LIBRARY OF THEUNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS

AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN

977.327F81scop.2

I.H.S.

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2012 with funding from

University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

http://archive.org/details/storiesofpioneerOOfost

STORIES OF

PIONEERDAYS

IN LA SALLE COUNTY, ILLINOIS

AND

POSTER DESIGNSCommemorating The

Washington Bi-Centennial

1932

BY GRAMMAR GRADE PUPILS

OF VILLAGE AND RURAL SCHOOLSLA SALLE COUNTY, ILLINOIS

COMPILED FOR THE SCHOOL LIBRARIES

By W. R. FOSTERCounty Superintendent

F Q R D COUNTY—)]

LA SALLE COUNTY

ILLINOIS

ORGANIZED JAN.I5 1831 • AREA SI84SB-.MI.

POPULATION 500

A-'

FOREWORDTO motivate the language work and the drawing in the smaller schools and

to make an appropriate contribution to the celebration of the county cen-

tennial in 1931, the grammar grade pupils in these schools were asked to col-

lect the data and write a story of pioneer days in La Salle County and to de-

sign a series of history posters that would depict the progress achieved in

some line of human endeavor during the first hundred years of our county's

existence as an administrative unit. The response to this request was gratify-

ing beyond expectations. The stories in general were from original sources

and were most interestingly told. Likewise, the "history runners" were sur-

prisingly well designed and artistically executed.

As a memento of the county-wide celebration of its centennial and as

examples of good choosing of material and good telling, some sixty of these

stories by the eighth graders and several posters were published in a pamph-let to file in the school libraries for future comparison and reference. It wasregretted at the time that funds were not available to include a larger numberof the many excellent stories and designs submitted, particularly some of

those prepared by the seventh grade.

As a part of their participation in the celebration of the Washington Bi-

centennial this year the pupils in the rural and village schools were invited to

design posters commemorative of the Father of His Country, and the eighth

graders were privileged to try their hand again at telling a story of pioneer

days. At the time the invitation was extended, it was expected that at least

two hundred of the 1932 posters and stories could be reproduced in pamphletform. But the financial stringency still continues and it is impossible to realize

our expectations. Hence, many an interesting story and many an excellent

poster had to be omitted in this pamphlet, much to the chagrin of the county

superintendent and, no doubt, to the disappointment of many a worthy pupil.

In the estimation of the county superintendent nothing that these smaller

schools have done in recent years so definitely marks their praiseworthy ad-

vancement as the writing of these stories and the designing of these posters,

for both are of the creative type that evidence intellectual growth. Likewise,

both are on a markedly higher plane than was thought possible for grammargrade pupils only a few years ago. It is ardently hoped, however, that they

represent a new era in school achievement, and that they but pave the way to

even greater skill in the fine art of story telling.

The county superintendent desires to acknowledge the very great kind-

ness of the descendants of pioneers who gave so freely of their time and in-

formation to their pupil interviewers; likewise, to express his appreciation of

those teachers who gave such wholesome encouragement to their pupils andexercised such fine leadership in their schools as to render this achievementpossible. But even in a greater measure does his gratitude go out to the class

of 1932 who assisted so effectively in establishing new standards of excellence

in our village and rural schools.

W. R. FOSTER,Ottawa, Illinois, August 10, 1932. County Superintendent

of Schools.

INDEXTitle Pupil Page

An Old Pioneer Philip Swift __7Tony's Story Richard Weber 8Vermillionville Marjorie Calkins 9History of Dana William Roth 10A Visit to the Riggs Farm Eloise Holland 11An Early Home in Dimmick Catherine Spicer 12Caroline Wood's Family Loise Yates 14An Old Grist Mill Vivian Suppes 15Early Times Glenn Hagenbuch 16Buffalo Rock Rosemary Duffy 17Industries of a Pioneer Village Richard Larkin 18Life in a Pioneer Home Paul C. Gunn 19Story of Allen Lois Cleal 20Early Experiences in* Spinning Mabel Fatland 22The Mendota-Ottawa Mail Route Lillian Morey 22First Settlers in Eden Nikodum Degutis 23My Great-grandmother Edward Madden 25Pioneers of Dayton Elsie Buser 26Mills in Our Neighborhood Wayne Scott 27The Farm Ridge Church Virginia Boles 28Life Story of Mrs. Edwards Roberta Crane 29Mrs. Gebhard's Pioneer Home Charles H. Miller 30An Early Settler in Bruce Township Lois Richard 31A Trip to Ottawa Long Ago Dale Jones 32

Early Settlers in Osage John Cramer 33

The Old Homer Trails Marjorie Hickok 35

A Home Hunter Wilden Harris 36

Hardships t)f Early Days Lorraine DeBolt 37

A Stagecoach Tavern Helen Chapman '. 38A Confederate Uniform Margaret Fullerton 39

Echoes of Pioneer Days Doris Petersen 39

Immigrating to the United States Esther Johnson 41

Happy Days Gone By Adalene M. Spach 42

Benjamin Lundy Dolores Schroeder 43

Grandfather's Early Home Ethel Chapman 44

Grandfather's Life John Pillion 45

Our First Post Office Robert Phillips 46

Hedges Evelyn Pool 47

The First Meetinghouse in Mission Twp.. . . Geraldine Risk 48

Immigrants from Czechoslovakia Mike Berta 49

In Oxen Days Marion Mitchell 50

The Hawleys of Vermillion Irma Hawley 51

An Old Revolver Speaks Eldon Worsley 52

A Blind Mole Drain Margaret Jean Boyd 53

Improvements in Harvesting Spencer Zimmerman 54

An Early Church Elizabeth Kavinsky 55

George Bazore, a Pioneer Albert Kollar ._^._. . 56

Tales of Pioneer Days Irene Atwood 57

A Four-row Hand Planter Lucille Sheedy 57

The White Man's Friend Eliza Kerns 58

Brevoort's Early Home Lyle Hess 59

Apple Butter Time Virginia Anne Esmond 60

[4]

Title Pupil Page

Mrs. Catherine Gephard-Fahler Melva Frank 61

The Naming of Waltham Ralph Bradford 62

The Underground Railway Marshall Krug 63

A Century Ago Francis McGrath 64

Village of Leland Loretta Wright 65

Chief Shabbona Marjorie Simpson 66

Pioneer Life in Illinois Margaret E. Nelson 67

A Pioneer Cemetery Kenneth Baker 68

A German M. E. Church Arthur Rath 69

Duncan Dunn Dorothy Redlich 70

Grandma's Reminiscences Dolores Anderson 70

The Indian Creek Massacre Gladys Thorson 71

Spelling Matches Mary Arntzen 72

Aiding Runaway Slaves James Galletti 73

Dayton's Beginning Arthur Henicksman 74

The Underground Railway Ethel M. Whitmore 75

An Old Pumping Station George Causland 76

Making Soap Stephen Wujek 77

Streator as Hardscrabble Arthur Turner 78

A Boy in Blue Goldie Hubbard 79

Relics of Interest Kathryn Chapman 79

Conquering the Prairie Delbert Chapman 80Pioneer Days with Grandfather Marjorie Bane 81

Bits of Local History Janet Fields 82The Story of Mr. J. C. Beach Lyle Chambers 83The Burlingames of Earl Mary Louise Sturgeon 84The Prichetts of Dana Gladys Y. Klesath 85Experiences with Wolves Charline Curtis 86Lostland's Church and Cemetery Mary Solon 87Mr. Myers' Boyhood Experiences William Woodward 88Early Experiences in La Salle County. . . . Giles W. Sullivan 89The Old Stone Mill Lola Mae Kirsteatter 90The Gold Rush of 1849 Helen George 90My Grandfather's Early Farming Gerald Maubach 91An Early Presbyterian Church Zelma Hansen 92The Ebersol Farm Lillian Landers 93Pioneers of Dana Ruth Dunham 94Adventures of the Hall Girls Junior Keith 95The Oldest Church in Leland Delia Wold 96Going to Chicago Long Ago Willy Ott 97An Early Coal Mine Evelyn Brennan 98The Codys of Freedom Evelyn Peterson 99A West Point Commandant Clark Tryon 100Spinning and Knitting Esther Schlesinger 101Making Maple Sugar Leila Shreffler 101Experiences of the Hall Girls Thelma Henrickson 102Scenes of Yesterday Gene Buchanan 103Mr. Robert Rowe, 1802-1879 Walter E. Larson 104A Story About My Grandfather Roy Sulzberger 105Jefferson Nisbet of Earl Mabel Mende 106Almost a City Romaine Tyrrell 107The Vanished Town Melvin Vollmer 108Crossing the Plains in '51 Orla Foster 109A Pioneer Eileen Sunken 110A Pioneer of District 286 Charles Schmitz IllLife of John Cooper Harriettee F. Wakeman 112

[5]

WASHINGTONA

5AFEGUIDE

//yg*. /fT/yzg-/?, -r^Ht. 2>,^ /77T95g

/V^rz-^ofe/^A^-^c

Wtr<-L /yOiysnOrc*^ Ajf!««/ A<*NT7.£«

AN OLD PIONEERBy Philip Swift, Dist. 88

My story begins many years ago in

a little farmhouse perched on the side

of a steep Vermont hill. Here lived

some of the descendants of the earlyNew England settlers who cleared thethick woods, tried to farm the rockysoil and earn a living for theirfamilies.

These early settlers had long hoursof hard work and had to struggleagainst cold and snow during the win-ter months.At the foot of this hill was a little

church with a burying ground near byand a few houses grouped into a little

village, called Barnard.Sheep were plentiful, as they could

graze upon the grass-covered hills andin the timber. The wool was carded,spun and twisted into yarn, which waslater made into stockings, mittens andclothing. The tallow was made intocandles, as that was the only meansof light they had for their homes.Wood was their only fuel, but it was

plentiful because of the timber sur-rounding their homes.A few venturesome realtives had

gone to the "Far West," to the won-derful Illinois paririe, and settled nearMagnolia. Word was sent back ofthe flat, black soil there.The family of this little home had

grown up, the wife had died and anephew and his bride helped the uncle

with the farm work during the sum-mer. When winter came this nephewwent to Cape Cod to teach school.

Each year when the fishermen alongthe cape had finished their fishing andhad their fishing nets and fleets re-

paired for the next season, they at-

tended school during the wintermonths. Many of these men were old-

er than "Cap'n," as they called their

schoolmaster.This uncle became very interested

in the stories sent back of the rich

Illinois land, so when his nephew re-

turned in the spring from Cape Codhe left him in charge of the home-stead and he started out to walk to

Illinois. After many days of hardwalking he bought a pure-bred Mor-gan mare named Fanny and finished

his journey on horseback.A journey by land for hundreds of

miles at that day, through a country,most of it usettled, without bridges orroads, can hardly be imagined nowwith our excellent roads and meansof transportation. He was compelledto camp in the open; stopping at nighton the bank of some stream wherewood and water were plentiful andsleeping on the ground all night. Thiskind of life exposed him to great dan-gers of both animals and diseases, butalso gave him a good chance to seethe different kinds of soil in the West.

[7]

One night he stopped at a farm-house. The next morning when hewas ready to leave he could not find

his purse. After hunting a long timehe told the settler about his loss. Thesettler, not wanting him to think hehad been robbed, urged him to lookagain, and after a long search theyfound the purse in the pockets of his

third pair of breeches. He was wear-ing his extra supply of clothes as theeasiest way. of carrying them. Whileputting them on he got them ex-changed so that the pair he had beenwearing on top was on the bottom.After a hearty laugh he started on hisjourney again. It took many days ofhard riding before he reached his rela-

tives, who were living in the vicinityof Magnolia.The flatness of the soil appealed to

him, and the level land seemed a mir-acle compared with the hills of Ver-mont. He liked the country so wellhe decided to stay there.

In Vermont the wood they used forfuel took much time and labor to pre-pare, so hearing that coal was dug

and sold at a reasonable price nearHardscrabble, now called Streator, hedecided to locate near there. He found240 acres with a house already com-pleted. The lumber for the house wasshipped to Ottawa by canal boat andhauled overland by wagon. At thistime it was one of the finest housesin the country. When this shabby oldVermonter asked the owner how muchhe would take for the farm he said,"Sixty dollars an acre," and laughedbehind his back because he thoughtthe old Vermonter had no money. Hewas surprised when he took from hispocket enough money to pay the feeto bind the bargain and then sent amessenger back to Vermont for therest of the money. He paid the ownerthe remainder of the debt and becameowner of the farm.He lived here until he died, then his

nephew and wife lived here; thenephew teaching school in the vicinityfor twenty-five years. The land is

still owned by his children, and oldFanny's descendants are still helpingfarm the rich Illinois prairie soil.

TONY'S STORYBy Richard Weber, Dist. 65

Tony was born in Germany. Hehad respectable parents and was theyoungest in a family of five.

At the age of nine both of his par-ents died. His brothers and sisters

being old enough to make a living left

Tony with his relatives. It was acustom in that country that all or-phan boys over a certain age shouldbe sent to a school to learn militarism.Tony was sent to this school, althoughhe didn't want to go. The rules ofthis school were very strict, and if youdisobeyed one, you would be punished.Tony, like all boys, was punished verymuch, for he disobeyed many rules.

Out of two hundred sixty-eight boys,twenty committed suicide.

One day in May, Tony got permis-sion to go for a walk outside the in-

stitution. As he was walking downthe road he found a pamphlet withCalifornia pictured on it. Tony knewthis was America. He took thepamphlet home and hid it, then when-ever he had a chance he would look atit. Tony's main ambition was to goto America. He thought all of Amer-ica was just like California. Tonythen made up his mind he was goingto America.One day in the latter part of May

Tony sneaked away and went to the

depot. There he crawled in a box carand waited for the train to start. Thenext morning Tony woke up inBremen. Tony then went to the portwhere he found a ship was to leave atnoon. Tony saw a big stairway lead-ing up to the ship and he saw otherpeople going up, so he went up, too.

After Tony got on the ship he lookedit over very carefully. Finally an an-nouncement came for everyone to getoff, because the ship was pulling outin ten minutes. At twelve o'clock

sharp the ship pulled out and Tonywas on it. The captain announced foreveryone to come up and eat. Tonydidn't have a thing to get his dinnerin. He snooped around and found apail, knife, fork, and spoon, then Tonywent up and got his dinner.

Everything went all right until thefifth day, when they took a census ofthe passengers. There was one toomany, and it was Tony. He was takenby the mate to the captain. The cap-tain, who was sitting on the bridgeenjoying a long smoke, spoke to Tony.The mate saluted briskly and told thecaptain about Tony. The captainstopped smoking, coughed once or

twice and asked if it was the truth.

Tony made a clean breast of it, telling

that his parents died. The captain

[8]

said, "Boy, you surely have nerve, butyou will have to go back on the returntrip. During that time you will workin the kitchen." When the mate tookTony to the kitchen he said, "You getoff with the rest and you will neverbe missed."Tony then peeled potatoes and made

himself useful around the kitchen. Hewas also a mascot of the sailor boys.At last the ship landed, and Tony

was happy. He invested his money,which amounted to ten cents, in twopieces of apple pie. Tony was amazedat the high buildings, and in order to

view them to his satisfaction, hewalked down the middle of the street

till a policeman nabbed him. Hecouldn't speak Tony's language, so

he got an interpreter. Tony wastaken to the refuge home, where hegot a hair cut and bath. He also got

his clothes fumigated. Tony thenworked in a vegetable house for abouta month without knowing what his

pay was but he didn't mind as long as

he was away from that institution.

He was then transferred to a townin NewYork called Illion. There heworked for a gardener who was verygood to him, although they couldn't

understand each other. After work-ing for him for the season he wasgiven a new suit, a ticket to his uncle

who lived in a different town, and a

twenty dollar bill. Tony landed in

this town around the latter part of

November. He husked corn for six

dollars a month. From then on Tonyworked for the farmers, and his big-

gest desire was to learn the English

language. Tony now speaks English

and has become a good farmer.

VERMILLIONVILLEBy Marjorie Calkins, Dist. 81

Vermillionville is located on what is

now the Tonica road, about elevenmiles southwest of Ottawa. It is in

Deer Park township.It was laid out and owned by Isaac

Dimmick in 1836. He came to Illinois

from Wayne County, Pennsylvania, in

1833, and settled in Vermillionville in

1836. He was county commissionerfor several terms.

If one had traveled on this roadabout 1840 he would have found this

village a thriving and busy place. Thesettlers from the surrounding countrycame here, not only to get their mail,

but to do their trading.The post office was located in the

house that is now owned by HerbertPatterson. This house is nearly ahundred years old and is still in goodcondition. One of the things of im-portance is an old Dutch oven thatstill can be used. John Woods wasthe first postmaster; he was also jus-tice of the peace for several years.He lived in the house where ThomasPearse now lives. The mail was car-ried to this post office three times aweek by stage coaches, which ranfrom Chicago to St. Louis. Later it

was carried on the "Star Route" fromOttawa to Tonica.A tavern was kept by John Clark

in 1839. This was where the Ells-worth home now is. John Clark wastheir great-grandfather. The housewas part log and part frame. Mealswere served to the passengers thatwere traveling on the stage coaches.

Horses that were used on thesecoaches were kept in the barn thatstill stands on this farm.A store was located between the

road that goes past the present school-

house and the Herbert Pattersonhouse. The first owner of this store

was a Mr. Davis.There was a wagon shop across

from the cemetery. Above this a Ma-sonic Lodge was organized and meet-ings were held there. The old charteris kept by the Masonic Lodge in Peru,Illinois.

On January 15, 1838, a meeting wascalled for the purpose of building achurch. James Leonard, Ira Peck andIsaac Dimmick were chosen to see

about raising money and building it.

The land for the church and cemeterywas deeded by Isaac Dimmick andBettsy Hatch. The building was start-

ed in 1838. James Green and JobLincoln were the carpenters. Theyran out of money to go on with thebuilding, so it was 1842 before thechurch was completed. They usedplanks for seats, and the inside wasnot finished off very good. Somecalled it "God's barn." Services hadbeen held in the schoolhouse beforethe church was finished.

It was a Baptist church until 1857,and a Congregational church later.

Rev. Thomas Powell, who was thefirst pastor of this church, preachedthere for nine years. He did muchfor the Baptist faith in La Salle Coun-ty. The parsonage was located at the

[9]

place where George Millikin now lives.

There was no services in this churchfor many years, the last record of anywas in 1885. It was torn down about1922. It was one of the oldestchurches in the county.The cemetery was located just north

of the church. Some of the oldestgraves are David Hatch, who died in1835, John Hullinger, and SophiaCummings in 1836. Several soldiersare buried there. In one family threesons were killed in the Civil War. Inthe southwest corner is a grave thatis of special interest. It is that ofan old Negro slave named Henry Cap-ler, who lived in a shack with his dog,southwest of where Reuben Stude-baker now lives. He earned his liv-

ing by working around for the differ-ent neighbors. People thought agreat deal of him, and when he diedall but one man was in favor of bury-ing him in the cemetery. There hismonument stands today with the fol-lowing words written on it: HenryCapler, born a slave in N. Carolina,in 1821; escaped from slavery in 1845;died a free man May 11, 1879.The first schoolhouse was located

near where Charles Ott now lives. It

was made of logs. The present school-house was built about 1850. This wasabout one mile north of the old site.

Dr. James Bullock was one of theearliest settlers, and also the first doc-tor. He lived in the Patterson house,and practiced in this community forforty years. He was well liked byeveryone, and was always ready tohelp with anything that would betterthe country. When he died, his sonFrank went on with his practice.When the Illinois Central Railroad

was being built, around 1847, WilliamReddick, who was the State Repre-sentative at that time, wrote to JudgeIsaac Dimmick and told him hethought it could be arranged so therailroad would go through Vermillion-ville. Judge Dimmick wrote back tohim that they did not care to haveone run through, as it would disturbthe peace and quietness of their little

village. So the railroad was builtthrough Tonica, Illinois. If the rail-

road had gone through Vermillionvillethere might have been some trace ofthis village left. As it is, nothing re-mains except dwelling houses, thepresent "Ville" schoolhouse and thewell-kept cemetery.

HISTORY OF DANABy William Roth, Dist. 5

In the spring of 1873 the village ofDana was laid out by George Brum-bach.

The men who gave the one hundredforty acres of land were John A.Bane, John M. Martin, Robert M.Clegg and Hugh Howell. They first

named the town "Martin," after oneof the early settlers. It was later

called "Conklin," and then "Dana," its

present name, after the superintend-ent of the Chicago, Pekin and South-western Railroad. This railroad,which ran through here before thetown was built, was later purchasedby the Atchison, Topeka and Santa FeRailroad Company. On June 11, 1873,Dana was incorporated, and Mr. Mar-tin sold lots to the new settlers.

The first public building, the Chris-tian church, was built in 1865. Thegraves of the deceased were near thechurch. These were later removed tothe new cemetery at the southern edgeof the village. In 1909 the old churchwas torn down and a large concreteblock church was built. A MethodistEpiscopal church was built in 1890and rebuilt in 1915.

In 1871 Wright and Mumpoweropened the first general store. Thefirst residences to be built were by Dr.Reeder, Elias Frink and WilliamLane. The first grain elevator wasbuilt in 1872, by J. A. Martin andHenry Bedford. In 1873 George A.Sauer built a large elevator, which is

now owned by C. B. Sauer. The first

lumber yard was started by JothamMartin and Henry Bedford. At pres-ent it is the property of L. M. Bayne,of Ottawa, Illinois. The first postmas-ter was P. A. Martin. A planing millwas built by W. W. Pritchett and G.W. Marshall, and was later sold toJohn B. Miller, who remodeled it intoa small grist-mill.

The first drug stores were owned byDr. W. R. Harvey and R. M. Pritchett.The former is now a restaurant in

charge of R. E. Dickfoss. At thattime the village also contained onelumber yard, two general stores, twograin dealing firms, barber shop, onehardware store, two restaurants, sa-

loon, post office, one schoolhouse anda church.On three or four corners there were

kerosene lamps, and the officer of the

[10]

town went around each night to light

them; later they changed to gasoline

lights; then in the year of 1923 thePublic Service Company of NorthernIllinois extended its power line to

Dana. Concrete walks have taken theplace of board walks; and gravel andoil have improved the streets.

In 1875 there was no schoolhouse,so the children went to a school onemile south of the village. Six yearslater a new schoolhouse was built, butwas destroyed by fire and school washeld in a store building until a newone was built, just east of it, which is

the one being used at the present time.

A two-year high school was held in

the same building as the grade schooluntil 1921, when a new high schoolwas erected. The first commencementexercises for a high school were heldin the old Crystal opera house in 1898.

On July 6, 1914, one grain elevatorand ten store buildings were destroyedby fire, leaving just four frame build-

ings. The fire was caused by the ex-plosion of an oil stove in a butchershop.The old stockyards in the north

part of town, where many loads ofstock were formerly shipped by rail,

are used very little at this time asmost stock is trucked into Chicago and

Peoria by large trucks owned by Seg-german Transfer Company, of Dana.

In 1926 the Illinois state highway,route 45, was extended into Danafrom route 17, connecting it with all

important cities.

James McHenry, who was pastninety years old, and served two termsas mayor of Dana, was declared theoldest mayor in the United Statesthrough all the leading newspapers ofthe largest cities. His picture wastaken with voice, and appeared in thelatest news reels.

The present town board are: Mayor,William Roth; six aldermen, D. Ogil-bee, R. E. Dickfoss, Fred Mattlin, J. J.

Klesath, M. G. Burris and C. B. Sauer;clerk. K. W. Hakes, and treasurer,William Marston.The population has increased sixty

percent since 1880. A large brickhigh school and a grade school providemeans of education for the children ofthe village and the country childrennearby. Thirteen large brick and con-crete buildings have been erected in

the place of the old frame buildingsdestroyed by the fire. Modern homeshave been built, and every home is

provided with electricity, thus makingquite an improvement over the earlyhistory of the village.

A VISIT TO THE RIGGS FARMBy Eloise Holland, Dist. 139

Perhaps one of the oldest homes in

La Salle County is that of Mr. andMrs. James Riggs.

Mrs. Riggs, whose name was Mis-souri Snell before her marriage, cameto Deer Park township in 1851. Shecame with her father, mother, and hersisters and brothers, of which therewere eleven.They came in a covered wagon,

drawn by horses with chain harnesses.They had two dogs with them. Ontheir way they stopped at a tavern atnight. The mother and daughtersslept in the tavern and the father andsons in the wagon.Of course, the first thing to do was

to build a home. The men and boysset to work cutting down the trees inthe forest and notching them to fit to-gether. When completed, the househad one room downstairs and a loft

in which to sleep upstairs. This oldcabin still stands. Some improve-ments, however, have been made. It

has a new roof of boards. Before Mr.Riggs died it was used as a stable.Byron Snell, Mrs. Riggs' brother,

was heard to say that the game wasso plentiful that you could step outsideand kill a deer as it passed by.

Later a barn was erected. Nailswere seldom used, or even heard of,

in those days. For use instead ofthem they mortised the beams to-

gether and pinned them with woodenpegs. The feed boxes in the barn arelarge and are hollowed out of largelogs.

A very interesting building to visit

is the shop. It contains many oldrelics used by the pioneers.Some of these are a plow that was

one of the first made by the PeruPlowworks. Another is a narrow witha wooden framework. Its teeth are

made of iron, but do not slant as the

ones used by farmers now. There is

also a mower which is very small andpeculiar looking.

There are a high two-seated buggyand a one-seated buggy. The two-seated one is high and has one seat in

the front, while there is another thatcan be put on the back or left off. The

[11]

CONFIDENTWITHOUT

PRESUMPTION

one-seated one is on the same order

but has but one seat.

A wooden hayrake is here, and also

a wooden pitchfork. The hayrake is

made of a board going through the

center and with long wooden teeth oneither side. The pitchfork handle andtines are carved from one piece of

wood. Wedges are put in between thetines. A wooden cradle, used to catch

grain when it fell, which was fastenedonto a scythe, because in those daysthey had no reapers. An old woodenbedstead that has to be used with ropesprings is very odd. There is a sau-sage grinder in which to grind meat.The meat stays inside the grinder and

when it gets full you open it and takethe meat out.

Hanging on the wall is a patternfor an axe handle. It is carved out ofwood and is of good size. More pat-terns are for shoes for both ladiesand gentlemen that are the shape ofthe foot. They fit the leather over it

to measure it and then sew it.

A very interesting story is how abobsled tongue is made. A log of theright size was cut and placed in ahorse's manger. The saliva from thehorse's mouth, which made it moist,together with weights that were fas-tened on each end, made the tonguecurved so it would not hit the horseswhen fastened onto the sleigh.

An old-fashioned torch, which wasused instead of lamps, and filled withlard oil served as a light at night.These old relics are fast falling to

pieces because they are scores ofyears old. Some of them, such as anox saddle, an old-fashioned coffee

grinder, and an oaken bucket, wereused for display in the La Salle Coun-ty centennial at Ottawa, 111.

The house, which was built afterthe log cabin and barn, is quite large.

It has old-fashioned rope bedsteads,pottery, and walnut chairs and tables.

As the house was about a quarterof a mile away from its nearest neigh-bor, a bell was erected so these oldpeople could ring it when anythinghappened. It was on top of a buildingnear the house and a wire extendedfrom it down to the porch post.

Mr. and Mrs. Riggs are now bothdead. Mr. Riggs died five or six yearsago, but Mrs. Riggs died recently. Agreat deal of the information aboutthe Riggs farm and about how Mrs.Riggs came here was given to me byMrs. Riggs herself.

AN EARLY HOME IN DIMMICKBy Catherine Spicer, Dist. 174

At the close of the Black Hawk warimmigrants from the East began tosettle in northern Illinois. These earlysettlers came by three different routes—the Great Lakes route, the Ohioriver route, or overland in coveredwagons. When several covered wag-ons traveled together they were called

a "train." In 1845 a "train" of eightwagons set out from Pennsylvania forIllinois. In one of the wagons rodeMr. Harmon Nisley (the grandfatherof Mr. Brown Munro), his wife andseven children. Several beautiful,

well-bred horses were led behind the

schooners. Bridges were not as wellconstructed then as they are now andmany times the heavily loaded wagonswould break the bridge. Mr. Nisleyhad the heaviest wagon, so when hecame to a bridge he would have to

wait and cross the bridge last. If hecrossed first the heavy wagon mighthave broken the bridge and the otherswould have to wait until they repairedthe bridge.He settled at Knoxville first, and

kept a grocery store. As there wasno prohibition law at that time manyof the grocery stores sold liquors, as

[12 1

well as groceries. In an old

day-book, which is in posses-

sion of one of his descend-

ants, there is a record of a

sale of whisky at forty cents

a gallon. Another page showsthat wheat was sold at four

cents a pound, and apples at

twenty-five cents a bushel. Aload of pumpkins were sold at

four dollars.

After Harmon had ex-

plored the country fromKnoxville to Peru, he decidedto settle near Peru. As canalboats passed up and downdaily, it was a convenientplace from which to ship his *

grain. The family lived in

Peru a year or so. Then Mr. Nisleybought a farm (now occupied byMr. George Hahn), which is three

and a half miles north of Peru, in

Dimmick township, in 1848, and aboutthe same time he bought about eightyacres of land in Putnam county wherehe installed a saw mill. He milledenough lumber to fence his farm andto build three houses and barns for his

farms. He also cut wood for otherpeople. The maple grove, which canbe seen on that farm, was planted byHarmon.Improved land in Dimmick could be

purchased at fifteen dollars an acre,

and land that was not improved for aslow as a dollar and twenty-five centsan acre.

For a number of years the Nisley'skept a light burning in an upstairswindow so that any emigrants travel-ing across the prairie might find shel-

ter. As the roads were poor, schoon-ers would often become stuck in themud. The people would see the light

burning in the window and would comethere for help. No one was everturned away.One evening a wagon drawn by two

beautiful gray horses was seen com-ing across the prairie. The driverwas a negro. He asked Mr. Nisley if

he could stay all night. Mr. Nisleysaid he could. Late that night a groupof white men came to the house. Theysaid the negro was a runaway slaveand that he had stolen the wagon andhorses. The white men took the negroand the wagon and drove away. TheNisleys never knew whether the negrowas a runaway slave or whether thewhite men were rascals who wantedto sell the negro, the horses, and thewagon.

A5HINGTDNA

LE LEADEDw'-*»° '*««e *" r

After the Nisley's had moved to

their farm in Dimmick, the "plankroad" was built. This road extendedfrom Peru to Dixon and was madeentirely of planks. Stage coachesdrawn by one or more teams of horsespassed over this road, carrying peopleand mail. Along the road were cer-

tain houses where the driver changedteams. One of those stopping placeswas about two miles north of Peru, atPeak's tavern. There the horses werechanged and the travelers found foodand lodging. "

When the first telegraph line wasstrung past their house (from Arling-ton to Peru), there was only one wireused. At that time there were manyprairie chickens here. They were notaccustomed to the telegraph wire andthey would fly up against it and be-come stunned. The family wouldhurry out to see how many prairie

chickens they could get for supper.

In those days schools were not so

close as they are now. However,there was a school just back of theNisley grove. This school was taughtby one of Harmon's sons. Oftentimesreligious services were held in theschool. One time it was very difficult

to obtain a minister. However, therewas a very well educated man in thecommunity who would have been cap-able to take charge of the services,

but he had fallen away from his earlyinstructions and was a little rough,but good at heart. Since he was sucha well learned man he was selected to

act as minister. He knew that he waswell known by all the people, so beforehe began his services he said, "Do notdo as I do, but do as I say."

There was not so much fruit cannedthen as there is now. There were not

[13]

many fruit trees, but when the set-

tlers obtained some fruit, such asapples, pears and peaches; they driedthem for winter use. Meats, too, wereoften cured by drying.The Nisleys were expert tanners,

as they tanned and made their ownleather. Their wagon repair workwas done by a man who kept a re-pair shop in La Salle, named PatrickManning.

Mr. Nisley was known for his hos-pitality. Every Sunday people gath-ered at his home to visit and enjoythemselves after their week's labor.

The younger folks and children playedgames, while the older folks talkedabout the topics of the day; told aboutwhat was written in the last letter

from the East (it took about sixteendays to send a letter from the eastern

states to Illinois ) , or planned "bees" forthe coming week. Everyone enjoyeda delicious dinner before he left.

It is said that Mr. Nisley's wordwas above reproach. The other set-tlers had so much faith in his honestyand wisdom that when they got intoan argument or had a dispute, theywould come to him to have him settletheir arguments.

Mr. Munro (Mr. Nisley's grandson)has a board that was a part of Mr.Nisley's covered wagon, and a candlemold that was used by Mrs. Nisley inmaking the tallow candles.Thus the story comes to an end.

As we hear about the hardships andjoys of pioneers, like the Nisleys, werealize how much the early settlershave done to make our life in La Sallecounty more enjoyable.

CAROLINE WOOD'S FAMILYBy Lois Yates, Dist. 183

In the middlewestern part of these

great United States there used to be

a great prairie covered with tall

grass. It was here that the Indians

and wild animals liked to roam. Thenthe white man came. Among some of

the first settlers in the Middlewestwas my grandmother's family, whocame from Vermont in the 1850's.

They had some relatives in Illinois

who wrote to them, telling of the won-derful prairie land which they couldbuy for a dollar an acre. The partingwith their relatives and friends in theEast was sad, because they knew thatthey might never see them again.But finally this family decided to

emigrate to the new land, whichseemed to offer such great opportuni-ties.

My great-grandparents had a largefamily and it was quite a task to getthem all ready to take West. But, ofcourse, they would not think of leav-

ing one behind. There was Caroline(my grandmother), her father, hermother, and her four younger sis-

ters—Catherine, Emmeline, and thetwins, Maria and Sophia, who werenicknamed Rye and Tye. There werethree relatives who decided to comeWest too—my grandmother's AuntKate and two great-aunts, who werevery cross and made much of the trip

very unpleasant for the children.

They came by steamboat throughthe Great Lakes to Chicago, and thetrip wjis filled with wonders for thewhole family.

At last they reached Chicago safelyand got on a canal boat, whichbrought them down the Illinois-Michi-gan canal to Ottawa. Everyone wasrelieved when Aunt Clarissa and AuntMelissa stopped at Woodstock, wherethey had relatives with whom theywere going to live. When the familyreached Ottawa they had no place to

put their household goods, which theyh^d brought along with them. Theyhad to leave them there beside thecanal until they could take them to asafer place. Aunt Kate walked threemiles to a cousin's farm to tell himthat his relatives had arrived, andasking him to come to Ottawa afterthe rest of the family. He took themto his home for the night, whilegrandmother's father walked to thehome of another relative about fifteen

miles northwest of Ottawa. Thisplace was near where the Woods wereto build their new home. Great-grand-father stayed with this relative all

night, and the next day they broughtthe household goods out from Ottawa.The whole family came to live hereuntil their own home could be built.

Their new home was a one-roomedlog cabin, with a fireplace at one end,and packing boxes for chairs andtable.

They raised all their own food andhad to take their wheat to the mill at

Dayton to get it ground into flour.

They had to leave it there overnightand come back after the flour the nextday. They had eggs, hominy, cornbread, milk, prairie chickens, wild

[14]

geese, and, on special occasions, fried

chicken to eat.

As there were no wire fences in

those days, some other way had to bedevised for inclosing the fields andkeeping the stock in. People living

near a grove cut poles and made rail

fences, but if there were no woodsnearby, deep ditches were dug aroundthe fields. Since the stock could notjump over them they served well asfences. One day a herd of antelopepassed through the neighborhood.They jumped the ditches easily.

The children liked to go out in the

fields to gather flowers, but they hadto watch out for rattlesnakes, whichwere very numerous in those days.One day they looked out in the yardand saw the chickens flying in all di-

rections. They went out to see whatwas the matter and saw a rattlesnakecurled up ready to strike. As mygrandmother's father was away at the

time, her mother had to take a hoeand kill it herself. One day a neigh-

bor came into her house and heardthe dishes in the cupboard rattling.

She looked in and saw a rattlesnake

crawling around among the dishes. Asshe could not get it out she finally

killed it in the cupboard.

The school was about one and one-half miles from their home. It was aone-roomed log cabin with logs split

in half and set up on legs for seats.

They were very rough and uncomfort-able. The desks were made in thesame way only they were set up high-er. Children of all ages and sizes

went to this school. On Sundays theschoolhouse was used as a church.Nearly every person who came to

this new country got the ague. Whena person had this disease he wouldtremble from head to foot. There wasalso a kind of fever which some of thesettlers got. Rye and Tye werestricken with this fever and nearlydied. The doctor said the only thingthat would cure them was to get someblue clay to pack on their heads.Their father started out to find some,and at last he returned with some.The twins were cured.

In spite of these and many otherhardships, the early settlers managedto carry on. As time went on theybuilt better houses and fenced theirfarms, until today log cabins andditch fences have become things ofthe past. We should be thankful to

those hardy pioneers who laid thefoundations for the community in

which we live.

AN OLD GRIST MILLBy Vivian Suppes, Dist. 325

One of the oldest grist mills ofNorthville township, La Salle county,Illinois, was built by John Sweet.

It was located on the west bank ofSomonauk creek, one hundred twenty-five feet north of the bridge, on thesame crossroad commonly known asthe Scheidecker road, which is aboutthree miles south and one and one-quarter miles east of Somonauk.

Mr. and Mrs. John Sweet and theirfamily of two daughters moved fromOhio to Illinois and lived in a logcabin which was on the land he pur-chased to build the mill upon.

Before Mr. Sweet built this largermill, he operated a smaller mill thathe built in the year of 1840. Thismill stood west of the larger mill.

After two years' work on the largermill and race it was completed in

1860. This wooden structure wasthirty feet square and two storieshigh, with a run of two stone burrs,which were four feet in diameter andtwelve inches thick.

This mill was propelled by waterpower, but did not have the old style

over-shot wheel. This wheel wasplaced in a flat position. The waterpoured in at the side of the wheel,which caused the wheel to turn in awhirling motion.The foundation of this mill, which

was three feet above the ground, wasbuilt of stone hauled from AndrewBrodie's quarry, which was locatednear Millington.The course of the mill race was

surveyed by Orange Potter, a county-surveyor and school teacher, whocame from New York in 1835. Themillrace was about one-half mile loner

and had a twenty-one foot water fall.

The mill race was dredged withteams and dump scrapers, with theexception of one place where it wastunneled through a large hill. Thistunnel was dug by John Erb, aFrenchman who came to the UnitedStates in 1844. He was commonlyknown to the old settlers as "OldHontz." The tunnel was cribbed withplanks from the Scheidecker saw mill,

which was in operation at that time,located about one and one-quarter

[15]

miles northeast from the grist mill onthe same stream.

In full flow the race was from sevento eight feet deep, and from fifteen to

sixteen feet wide at the top.

The dam that was built across thecreek to force the water through therace was built of logs, stones, graveland earth.

After the millrace was dredged ar.d

completed, an argument came upamong some men of the community.Some said that when the creek wouldbe dammed the water would overflowthe banks of the millrace, and verymuch doubted the surveyor's figures.

But, alas! when the day came to flowthe water through the race it wasproven that the water line was just asthe surveyor claimed it would be.

After Mr. Sweet had progressedthus far he was short of funds andhad to borrow money to install his

machinery and equipment in the mill.

He also had no funds with which tobuy wheat to grind on a large scale

and sell flour to merchants. He de-pended upon custom grinding, as this

was a toll mill. An eighth of eveiygrist was reserved for grinding andlabor.

Another thing that interfered withMr. Sweet's patronage was the falling

of the bridge over the creek on that

crossroad. The piling rotted outunder one end and the bridge fell

down. Therefore there was no way

to get to the mill from the east sidefor some time.During the time the mill was in

operation by grandfather, CharlesRohrer, who was a young lad at thattime, often went fishing in the mill-race, as fishing was good there then.

After the mill had been built abouteighteen or nineteen years, it burneddown. My grandfather Henry Suppeswas the looser of three sacks of wheat.

Other patrons lost grain, also. Theburning of the mill was not a totalloss to Mr. Sweet for his property washeavily insured.Not many years ago the foundation

of the mill was still in the groundwhere it was laid. But on May 1st,

when I visited the site, I discoveredthat the stones had been taken up,probably to be used for some otherpurpose, and the trenches were nearlyfilled and grown over with sod.The millrace is now quite filled in,

and at the present time the east bankand caved-in tunnel are used for a

roadway for land owners to drive totheir timber lots, as several farmerseach own a few acres of timber be-yond the millrace.

After Mr. Sweet had completed themill and race, he built a one-storyframe house where the log cabin hadbeen standing. This house is still

standing today, and is the residenceand property of Mr. and Mrs. GeorgeBolden, and the mill site and race areowned by the William George estate.

EARLY TIMESBy Glenn Hagenbueh, Dist. 181

Life in Scotland was very hard in

the days before the Revolution. It

was no better in America, if notworse, because of the oppression ofthe English.When David Wood arrived here his

first occupation was fighting Britishsoldiers.

After the war he worked in Bostonand saved his money. He marriedand settled in Plymouth. In 1792 heremoved to Pawlet, Vermont, wheremy great-great-grandfather TimothyWood was born. Here also my great-grandfather Benjamin D. Wood wasborn. He married Harriet Brewster,a descendant of Elder Brewster, oneof the Mayflower's passengers in 1620.A few years later they became rest-

less and started West to where someof Mrs. Wood's relatives had goneabout five years before.They started out on a marble barge

going from Rutland, Vt. They wentdown the Champlain barge canal tothe Erie canal. They went throughthe Erie canal to Buffalo, where theychanged onto a lake steamer. Theywent up Lake Huron to Lake Michi-gan. They stopped at Chicago, wherethey changed onto another barge go-ing down the Illinois and Michigancanal.They landed at a small hotel at the

junction of the Illinois and Fox rivers,

where Ottawa now stands. Here theyunloaded their few pieces of furniture.Mr. Wood started to walk across thecountry to get a wagon from Mrs.Wood's brother, James Brewster, wholived twelve miles away. After he gotthe wagon he went back to get his

family and their furniture.They lived in James Brewster's log

cabin until Mr. Wood found a desertedcabin a few miles further south. They

[16]

lived in this a few years, until an old

farmer had them come to live withhim and help him, as he was gettingold. This farm is now owned by JohnWilson.They stayed here a few years, but

were dissatisfied because they were so

far away from the church and their

friends and relatives.

The first church was an old de-

serted log cabin, located near wherethe Waltham Masonic hall now stands.This cabin was also used as a school.

As more people came, they used anold granary as a church. When theWood children went to school theywould take turns carrying and caringfor the baby of the family.The fences in those days were made

of rails. In the places where there

were no trees to split for rails, or

where they were too far away to behauled to where they were to be used,

the men would take shovels and cut

away the sod in a line to mark off thefarms.

In the springtime the men wouldburn off all of the prairie grassaround the cabins and stables to pre-vent prairie fires or to keep the fires

from burning down their buildings.

In the sloughs there grew a long,

tough grass. Along with this therewas mud and water all the year.

These sloughs were of acres in extentand hindered traveling very much.Now, the descendants of these early

pioneers, and the descendants of manyothers, likewise, are scatteredthroughout the West.

BUFFALO ROCKBy Rosemary Duffy, Dist. 143.

One day I went with some friendsto pick flowers and search for arrow-heads on Buffalo Rock. It was a warmday, and as I had been suffering frommalarial fever, I stopped at Eagle'sCliff to rest while the others went on.

The scene was very peaceful.Eighty feet below my resting placethe Illinois river lapped against thesandstone rock, while to the east,

south and west I could see the rollingfarms of the valley. Now and then abird was startled from its restingplace and I watched the slow, gracefulsweep of its wings as it flew acrossthe water.As I looked down on the quiet scene

I began drowsily to think of the earlydays in the valley and the manychanges that have since taken place.

Suddenly my thoughts were inter-rupted by a soft pat, pat of a mocca-sined foot. Turning about I discov-ered an Indian chief standing behindme.

I was not at all afraid, and imme-diately started a conversation: "Areyou an Illinois Indian? Did you live

on the Rock and won't you sit downand tell me about it?" I asked.The Indian slowly smiled: "The

white children are just as impetuousas in the days of long ago," he an-swered. "Yes, I will tell you the leg-end my father told me.""Hundreds of years ago Buffalo

Rock was an island in the Illinois

river, but the channel changed, thenthe Illinois flowed at the rock's south-ern base. Up and down this riverpaddled the canoe of the Illinois, for

this strong confederacy occupied thevalley at that time. This land wasvery rich, so other tribes waged warwith mine for its possession."About this time from the south

there came a party of Frenchmenwhose leaders were a fur trader,Joliet, and a young priest, FatherMarquette. On down, down the riverthey went teaching and trading withmy tribe. So life went on with theyearly hunt, times of peace when all

were prosperous, and times of war,when all were desperate."A few years later another French-

man named La Salle, visited my tribe.

He left his lieutenant Tonti to holdhis fort at Starved Rock.

"Finally, a new governor was sentto Canada. This man, was an enemyof Tonti's and sent a captain namedPilette to replace Tonti. When Rich-ard Pilette came, Tonti refused to re-turn to Canada, so Pilette gatheredtogether a group of Indians who sym-pathized with him, and fortified this

rock."He called Buffalo Rock 'Fort Mi-

ami,' because most of his sympathiz-ers were of the Miami tribe.

"Tonti was tired of the struggle,La Salle was dead, the Iroquois werefiercer than ever, and the Illinois wereexhausted from years of warfare.Tonti now abandoned his fort and left

the Illinois to their fate.

"Some of the Illinois Indians soughtsafety in the lower Mississippi valleywith the French, but others, lovingtheir homes more than safety, con-tinued the struggle here.

[17]

"A short time after this Pontircwas assassinated and enemies of mytribe laid the blame on the Illinois

and attacked them from the north."The Illinois were starving and un-

able to get food or water. As a greatherd of buffalo were grazing at thewest end of the Rock, the Illinois, in

desperation, made this plan. A num-ber of braves were sent to the westend of the Rock; they were to get be-hind the herd and drive them east-ward at such a speed that when theyneared the eastern edge of the cliff

the buffalo would plunge over to theirdeath. Below the Rock at the easternedge were the squaws of the tribeready to complete the slaughter bycutting the throats and bleeding theanimals.

"That, according to the legend ofthe Illinois, is how Buffalo Rock gotits name and how the Illinois Indianssecured food in their last struggle tohold the valley."When my visitor had completed his

story he stood looking across theriver. Just when I was beginning tothink he had forgotten my presence,he turned to me and said:"Can you tell me, little girl, what

white man has done with the Rock?""I will be glad," I said, "to tell you

what I know of Buffalo Rock.""My grandfather tells me that when

he was a boy the place was owned byan old man named Lon Edwards. Ed-wards did not use the Rock so he soldit to a man named Duke McFarson.McFarson was the head of a religioussect called 'The Holy Rollers,' whoheld their meetings in the large taber-nacle on the Rock. McFarson sold

the Rock to the Patholetic Tent Col-ony, who for several years used Buf-falo Rock as a tuberculosis sanita-rium. Not having sufficient moneythey sold the Rock to Richard T.Crane, the millionaire plumbing goodsmanufacturer of Chicago. The CraneCompany turned Buffalo Rock into arest resort for their veteran em-ployees. In 1929 the Crane Companymoved their sanatarium to Geneva,Wis., and made a gift of Buffalo Rockto the State of Illinois."

Just then we heard a blast, whichechoed along the base of the Rock.The Indian turned an inquiring faceupon me and I was just beginning toexplain that the western end of theRock was being blasted out for sandwhen I heard the whistle of a dredgeboat going down the river. I then be-gan to explain to the Indian the Illi-

nois river was cleared and beingdredged out so that it may be usedfor commerce, when I heard someonesay:

"Listen to Rosemary talking toherself."

I turned to see if the Indian wasthus rudely interrupting, but in hisplace stood my friends, with theirarms filled with flowers. I sat up andrubbed my eyes. The sun was stream-ing down upon Eagle's Cliff and myfriends were anxious to go home."Where did the Indian go?" I asked,

as I scrambled to my feet.

"Back to the page of your historybook," answered one of my compan-ions.

As we hurried home I told them thelong dream which I have just told to

you.

INDUSTRIES OF A PIONEER VILLAGEBy Richard Larkin, Dist. 227.

Michael Meinhardt came to TroyGrove in 1858. He came here fromGermany. He built a home east ofTroy Grove. Three years after hecame here he started to build a gristmill near the Little Vermillion river,

north of the old La Salle road.He built a dam about sixty rods

north of the mill. He then dug a raceso as to get the water in a mill pond,which was also north of the mill.

Then the water came from the pondto the mill and ran over the over-shotwheel, which was about twenty feethigh and fifteen feet wide. By havingsmaller wheels on the machinery in-

side he increased the speed.The building was three stories high.

The first floor was where the grainwas ground, and the second had mostof the machinery in it. The third waswhere they stored the grain.As machinery improved, Mr. Mein-

hardt's sons put in a turbin wheel in

place of the over-shot wheel. Whenthe Meinhardt sons left they sold the

mill to Ben Panton. He ran it until

it did not pay. But while he had it heran it by steam. He then moved the

machinery South. Elwood Burris nowowns the farm with the mill on it.

The ruins of it are still standing.

Mr. D. A. Hapeman started the

white sand works in 1890. It cost himabout $35,000 to build a switch from

[18]

the Northwestern to the sand plant

and build a bridge across the creek.

He sold washed sand or the sand as

it was dug from the pit. The switchwhich he built down to it started aboutfifteen rods from the crossing south-east of town. It ran back about twen-ty or twenty-five rods. There still aresome of the ties where the track ran.

He ran this for about ten years buthad to stop on account of finances--because the freight was too high. It

cost $5 every time an engine wentback after a car, besides the freightin shipping it when he got it to thetrack.

Mr. Doffner, an early settler ofTroy Grove, started a brewery in

about 1860, southeast of Troy Grove,

on the Little Vermillion. It was a

three-story building. In the first storythey stored the hops and barley. Inthe second story they had the vats andplace where they cooked the beer.

Mr. Doffner hired a man to dig a

cave in the sandrock about two rodssouth of the brewery. This cave hadthree rooms, two running south, then

a room branches off to the east. This

cave was used to cool the beer. Thedoorway was large enough to drive a

team of horses hitched to a wagonthrough it.

Mr. Doffner used the beer at his

saloon, which was located at the WildBill Hickok State park. He ran this

saloon for many years.

LIFE IN A PIONEER HOMEBy Paul C. Gunn, Dist. 72

The first thing is the center of thepioneer life, the log cabin home. Thesecabins were in all cases made of logs,

and usually untouched except for thenotches where they fitted into one an-other. In the few exceptions the logowere roughly squared by the broad-axe. The logs were then laid in theform of a hollow square or oblong,openings being left for doors andwindows. When the walls had reachedthe desired height the roof was puton, consisting of split clapboards laid

loosely on the crudel rafters and con-sisting then of logs laid across themto hold the clapboards in place. Insome cases wooden pegs were used.The cracks between the timbers werefilled with a mixture of moss and clay.

The windows were not fitted withglass panes because glass was toocostly, so a substitute of thin oiled

paper or skin was used to admit light.

In many cases even these were lackingand the window casings were fitted

with shutters, which when closed tokeep out the weather, shut out thelight also. The furniture of thesecabins was crude, also, the main ar-ticles being a crude table, made byvarious methods, chairs or benchesmade by use of half of a log withsticks put into holes made in therounded side. A bed was made by ex-tending poles from the walls of thecabin to forked poles driven into thedirt floor. Clapboards laid acrossthese and covered with skins com-pleted the bed. In some cases a fam-ily brought furniture from the oldhome, but often the unnecessary ar-

ticles were soon discarded.

[

In most cases the cabin was sur-rounded by dense forests, open prairies

or some other phase of nature, notby numerous signs of the habitationof man until the true pioneering pe-riod had passed. The surroundingcountry was often desolate of anyother sign of human beings. A clear-

ing surrounding the cabin, afforded aspace for raising the crops and ameans of protection. The food of thepioneers came from three sources

—

the crops, that which they hunted foras fish, game, fruit and nuts, andsometimes a little food was bought at

a trading post.

Corn, beans and pumpkins werecommon crops, and in most cases theonly ones as these were the necessarycrops or foods of the times. The cornwas the main crop of all and formedthe basis of the pioneer diet in cornbreads of various makings and bak-ings. A fancy dish consisted of corn-meal fried in bear's fat. Tomatoeswere then unknown as a food, beingconsidered poisonous by all the peo-ple. A few vegetables other thanthose mentioned were raised in a fewcases.The woods, in the true pioneering

season, were teeming with game, deer,

racoons, bear, possum and other ani-

mals. Besides these there were manykinds of berries, fruit and nuts. Manyof the former two were eaten freshwhile others were dried to put awayfor the winter. These other thingshelped vary the diet. The food wasunfavored by any condiment. Salt

was used to some extent, though notregularly. Some even grew to prefer

19]

FIRST FIR5TIN IN

WAR PEACEfood without salt, because of the un-use of it. During the winter the foodwas the plainest because there was the

least variety of food during these

months to choose from.

Passenger pigeons, now extinct,

were also a staple in the pioneer diet

because they were so easily caught to

be used as food. It was this charac-teristic which caused their extinction.

They were caught at night by con-fusing them with the light, of torchesand knocking them to the ground.They were then dressed and packedaway in various ways to keep for thewinter. Also, other migratory birds

as ducks, geese, marsh hens, quail andothers supplied a little something dif-

ferent in meat for the pioneer table.

Much of the meat was dried andput away for the winter. In somecases it was packed in Indian methodof pemmicain. This was done bypouring melted tallow over the driedmeat packed in a skin bag. Enoughwas used to saturate the meat thor-oughly. Then the mass was allowedto cool and harden, after which thecontainer was sealed. Meat packedthis way kept for months.

STORY OF ALLENBy Lois Cleal, Dist. 62.

Allen township is located in the ex-treme southeastern part of La Sallecounty. It was organized about 1858or 1859, being among the last of thetownships to be organized.When the settlers came here the

land, which is a prairie, was coveredwith the blue joint grass. In someplaces the grass was so high that aman riding on horseback could hardlybe seen. A familiar saying amongthe settlers was, "The only thing thatis plentiful is grass." The land wasfilled with ponds, which have now dis-

appeared as the land has all been welldrained. The water in these pondswas stagnant, serving as a goodbreeding place for the mosquitoes,which were the cause of a prevalentdisease known as the ague.There were at one time a few In-

dians in this part of the state. Shab-bona, their chief, was a frequent visi-

tor at the homes of the pioneers.The first permanent residence in

Allen township was the home of Rob-ert Miller, a Quaker from England.John and Inglehart Wormley camehere from Pennsylvania. Inglehartwas the first supervisor of the town-ship. Philip Geheber, who came here

in 1854, married Kathrina Michelback.They were the first couple to be mar-ried here. Their son, whose name is

Jacob Geheber, and who is now livingin Ransom, was the first white childborn in the township.

The first schoolhouse was built in1856 on M. C. Lane's farm. The first

Fourth of July celebration in thetownship was held at the schoolhouse.Mr. Davis played the flute, and thepeople paraded in the tall prairiegrass. Everyone brought his dinner.The first religious services in thetownship were held here, also. Allentownship is the only township in thecounty that still has the originalschool land given it.

The M. E. church of Ransom hadits beginning in Allen chapel, thecountry church which stood on the hill

directly across the road from thehome now owned by Wm. Mogee, butwhich was at that time owned by his

uncle of the same name.This part of the Lane farm had

formerly been used for a cemetery,the first in the township. Just beforethe house was moved, all the graveswere opened, with the exception of

one, and the remains were buried in

[20]

Allen cemetery. While the

caskets were carried to the

new cemetery, the casket of

an infant seemed to be ex-

ceptionally heavy. The coffin

had been rudely constructed

of wood. Permission wasgiven to open the casket. It

was found that the body waspetrified, all but one hand.

Due to the exposure of air

the hand crumpled up.

One grave remained on this

farm. Relatives refused to

move it. For a number of

years it was fenced off, butnow nothing but a mound is

left.

In 1875, on the 8th and 9th

of December, Ransom was laid out.

The first railroad was the Chicago,

Peking and Southwestern Railroad.

It was built through Ransom in 1875.

The depot was the first improvement

in Ransom.

A man named Mr. Caldwell, in 1878

started a factory in Ransom. It wasa two-story wooden building, located

one block east of the main street,

where Gerald Blair's barn is now.

Where Gerald Blair now lives, Mr.

Caldwell lived at that time. Mr. Cald-

well abandoned the factory in 1881 be-

cause it was not successful. The build-

ing was made into an apartment home.

The Ransom Cornet Band was or-

ganized in 1883 under the leadership

of A. B. Wilkinson. Ransom was in-

corporated as a village in 1885. Twobrothers, Joseph and Jacob Hagi, in

1885, started to manage a tile factory

there. Fourteen men were employedat fifty cents a day. The factory waslocated across the Sante Fe railroad.

It had two kilns in which they manu-factured drain tile and bricks. Thefirst brick home erected in Ransomwhich is now owned by John Pellino,

was made of bricks from this factory.

The clay pits were near the factory.

One of the pits is now used as an ice

pond. The other one is used for aboys' swimming pool. The factorywas destroyed by a fire in 1890, butwas rebuilt with new kiln machinery,and a whistle blew when it was timefor the men to come to work. It wasnot very successful this time, so the

owner sold it to a Mr. Thatcher, whomade it into a soap factory. As manypeople made their own soap at that

time there was little demand for the

soap, it was also a failure. The build-

ing is used for an ice house. Thebricks and lumber that were left wereused in building Mr. Gochanhour'shome in 1904.

Later, W. F. Allen opened a drugstore, Joe Hagy a blacksmith shop,

Isade Burns a hardware store, R. 0.

Baird, Hagi and Lane an elevator,

Wm. Mulvihill and Peter Deegan abutcher shop, James Colwell a cheese

factory, Jerry Favorite a boardinghouse, and Carrie Wagoner the postoffice.

The first printing press in Ransomwas in 1892 to 1915. A Mr. Tiffany,

of Cornell, took over this paper. Thename before was "Ransom News," butit was changed to "Ransom Journal,"

which is still the name Mr. Tiffany

uses. The paper was printed in whatis now a lunch room in Ransom, oper-

ated by Paul McGuire.

The first mail was carried from Ot-tawa by Mr. Wagoner. It was thencarried from Seneca. The first mailroute through Allen was between Ma-zon and Streator. Mr. Wagoner andhis daughter Carrie were the first

ones to start a post office in Ransom.

Ransom now boasts of a very pro-gressive oil station, besides other im-provements. Allen township is situ-

ated in a good farming section and is

settled by an industrious and prosper-ous class of people.

[21]

EARLY EXPERIENCES IN SPINNINGBy Mabel Fatland, Dist. 273.

My grandparents on my father'sside had a very large family. All theolder children were boys, so they hadto learn how to work around thehouse helping their mother.My father tells me that when he

was a little boy, perhaps twelve yearsold, he and his older brothers had to

learn to spin on an old spinning-wheelthey had. It was very difficult forhim to learn how at first, but he saidafter he got used to it it was nothingat all. He spun mostly wool, whichtheir mother used in knitting theirstockings for them. Sometimes they,themselves, would have to knit them.He tells of how they used to color

or dye the wool many times whenthey wanted it for stockings becausewhite got dirty so soon. They woulddip the wool first into blue dye, theninto gray dye or maybe brown dye,thus making the stockings gray andblue or brown and blue. Many peoplepreferred making the stockings plainblue, gray or brown. In many casesthey would use just the virgin wool,that is, wool just as it is when it is

taken off the sheep, without evencleaning it. They would spin this in-

to yarn and use it in knitting stock-ings. The stockings would last fouror five years with daily use.

The spinning-wheel, which was usedin the olden times for the spinning ofcotton, wool and flax fibers into yarns,or thread, is a very odd machine. Inspinning there are many sizes of

yarn, and different forms of twists,

which are made by the different

speeds on the different machines. Thefineness of the thread depends uponthe rapidity with which it is drawnout while spinning. For the different

kinds of material, such as woolen, cot-

ton, and flax, it was necessary to op-erate the machine differently.

The base of the spinning-wheel is

a board about three inches wide andperhaps a yard long, that is, on someof them. At one end of the base thereis a post on which the wheel is fast-

ened. This wheel is about one andone-half inches wide, and about aslarge as a bicycle wheel. At the other •

end there is another post to which thehead of the machine is attached. Thehead consists of the needle, which is

called the spindle, and is from eightto ten inches long; two horseshoe-shaped things on which little hooksare fastened all the way around; andthe peg where the ball is placed. Thewheel and the spindle are joined to-gether by a belt.

On the small sninning-wheel thereis a treadle, similar to that on thesewing machine, except that it is muchsmaller. It is just wide enough forone foot. In later years a spinning-wheel was invented that was almosttwice as large as the small ones. Thisresembled the smaller ones in all re-spects except instead of sitting downwhile spinning you had to stand up,and it had no treadle. In place of thetreadle there were three spokes on thewheel by means of which the spinnerwould turn it. He had a stick, per-haps eighteen inches long, that wasworn smooth by the hard wear, andwith this he would make the wheel goaround. Sometimes he would just usehis hand to make it go. The stick washeld in the right hand and the yarnin the left. The workers would walkback and forth while spinning. Whenusing the small spinning-wheel andspinning virgin wool they would us-ually have a large bunch of wool in

their laps and just pull it out as theyneeded it. When using the larger onesthey would hold the wool between thethumb and the first finger so that theamount used was always about thesame.

Since they had to have a way to

wind the yarn up in order that it

would not get tangled, they wouldstop every now and then when theyhad spun sufficient yarn and removethe spindle. In its place they wouldput another wheel on, which the yarnwould be wound.

THE MENDOTA-OTTAWA MAIL ROUTEBy Lillian Morey, Dist. 164.

Among the early mail routes in LaSalle county was one running fromMendota to Ottawa by the way of Tri-

umph, Prairie Center and FreedomCenter in the time of the Civil Warand twenty-five years later.

Prairie Center was the center ofthe route from which the mail wastaken to Mendota and exchanged for

new mail on Tuesdays and Fridays.This mail was taken to Ottawa andnew mail was brought back on Wed-

[22]

nesdays and Saturdays. Mondays andThursdays were free days for the mailcarriers.

The letters that were carried by the

carriers were put in bags of about the

size of a common flour sack, whichwas made of leather and locked by the

postmaster before leaving his office.

The carriers were not allowed to openthese. The weekly papers were car-

ried in a leather sack of about the size

of a grain sack.

The government was very strict

about carrying the mail, so the car-

riers had to go regardless of what the

weather was. In the winter time thesnow would be so deep and frozen so

hard sometimes that the horses wouldwalk right on top of it without break-ing through the crust. The carriers

had to leave early in the morning in

orcler to get the trip made during the

day.The mail wagon was a queer affair.

It had a bow top, and three seats,

which could be removed so the wagoncould be used as a spring wagon. Cur-tains could be put on and rolled upwhen the weather permitted.

Occasionally passengers were car-

ried from Prairie Center to Mendota.Each was charged either fifty or sev-

enty-five cents a round trip. The mailcarrier also did errands for people,

charging ten cents.

The Triumph post office in old Tri-

umph was across the road east fromwhere the Triumph school now stands.William Worsley, father of R. W.Worsley, present Triumph grocer, andof Mark Worsley, present cashier of

the Triumph bank, owned this postoffice, which consisted of about onehundred or less small boxes. Thebuilding was about the size of thePrairie Center post office.

The post office of Prairie Centerwas kept in a house where Philo Kel-logg then lived and which is nowowned and occupied by Mrs. Rosa Red-lick. This post office had about fifty

small mail boxes, which had glassfronts. The people who got their mailhere, each rented one of these smallboxes and paid Mr. Kellog fifty centsa year.

The post office of Freedom Center,which was three miles east and onemile north of Prairie Center, was first

owned by a family named Court-wright. Later a family across theroad kept it in their house. This postoffice had only about twenty boxes.The men who owned these post of-

fices got their salary by keeping thevalue of each stamp on every letter

and also by the renti paid by the peo-ple for the use of these small mailboxes.

Mr. Blackwell, a native of NewEngland, who lived one mile north andone mile east of Prairie Center, wasthe first carrier of this route, holdingthe position for almost fifteen years.At this time it was very hard for thepeople to travel from the country totown and back before nightfall, sosome of the people who lived east ofMendota and Triumph paid Mr. Black-well a certain amount a year to leavetheir mail off at their houses.When Mr. Blackwell discontinued

carrying the mail, Stanley Place, wholived one mile north and two mileseast of Prairie Center, took this posi-tion. He kept it until the spring of1881, when he started farming, onemile north and one and one-halfmiles east of Prairie Center.Then John Landers, whose son now

lives one and one-half miles fromPrairie Center, carried it until about1887, when railroads began runningthrough Triumph, carrying the mail.The mail was then brought from Tri-

umph. Soon after the mail had to becarried again. This time it came fromEarlville because the daily paperscould not get here early enough fordelivery.

This time James O'Brien carried it

for almost four years. Later theydiscontinued carrying it and the mailhad to be gotten at either Harding orPrairie Center.The Triumph post office was changed

over to where Triumph now is. It is

located in R. W. Worsley's generalmerchandise store.

The post office of Prairie Center re-

mained until the rural routes of de-livering the mail began in 1902.

FIRST SETTLERS IN EDENBy Nikodum Degutis, Dist. 71

The early settlers of district 71,

Eden township, came about the middleof the nineteenth century, from theEast. They had a hard time gettinghere because of the poor roads, wag-ons and the slow movements of the

horses and oxen. Most of them cameto buy cheap land and to make ahome.

Ira Mosher, an early settler of ourneighborhood, came here shortly afterthe Black Hawk War in 1832. He

[23]

made his home about one-third of amile east of the Hetrich school.

In 1853 the Illinois Central railroadwas built through a swampy andmarshy land. Many of the men work-ing on the railroad caught malaria ortyphoid fever from the mosquitoes ofthe swamps and marshes. A greatnumber of men died.

Ira Mosher was a carpenter. Hemade many beautiful coffins. He wasvery skillful in polishing and puttingthe boards together. Finally the mendied in such large numbers that Mr.Mosher used only the rough boardsand nailed them together to makecoffins. The men were buried in acemetery east of Hetrick school. Laterthe human bones were plowed up bythe farmers cultivating the land.

Mr. Mosher was a Methodistpreacher as well as a carpenter. Hepreached in a little rude structurenorth of Tonica once a week, whichwas used as a school and a church.Now it is used as a barn on Mrs.Minnie Cofoid's farm.Mr. Mosher traveled from farm to

farm preaching, and was a welcomeguest wherever he stopped. For hispay he received flour, some meat, ap-ples or some other food.

Mr. Mosher had twelve children, five

of which were boys. They fought in

the Civil war. They all returnedsafely to their home at the close ofthe war.When Mr. Mosher died, he was

buried in the Tonica cemetery.Mr. Calvin Palmer, another early

settler, built the house where Mr. H.0. Walgenbock is now living. Theoriginal owner was Alexander Mon-roe, who presented it to Mr. and Mrs.Palmer when they were bride andgroom. The farm contained sixtyacres then, but more has been addedsince.

Mr. Palmer had ten children. Theyall attended Hetrich school. One ofthe boys played truant one day andtook a ride to La Salle with a farmerwho was hauling grain. He was com-ing home earlier than the time schoolwas dismissed. He jumped off of thewagon before he got home so his folkswouldn't see him. The old negresswho did the washing for the Palmers,spied him and wondered why he wascoming home so early and in such ahurry. The boy ran into the houseexcited and told his mother that Chi-cago was nearly burned down. He hadheard about the Chicago fire while hewas in La Salle.

About the time the Palmer familycame here the settlers used very crudestoves. The chimneys were on theoutside of the cabin. When it lookedlike rain the children shouted as theyran by, "Pull in your chimney, its

going to rain."In 1855 Mr. and Mrs. Godfrey Good-

win and their family settled one-halfmile south of Hetrick school, on Route2. They lived in a rude shanty. Othershanties were built here, in which themen working on the Illinois Centralrailroad lived.

Where Hetrick school now standsstood the old schoolhouse. It was likea shed, having a few windows. Mrs.Goodwin cleaned the old and later thenew schoolhouse.

She had a log hut east of the school,across the Illinois Central railroad, inwhich she sheared sheep, cleaned wooland wove it into cloth. She madeshirts, socks and overalls by hand, notonly for her family, but also forothers.

Mrs. Goodwin also performed thepart of a doctor because the nearestdoctor lived on the old Ottawa roadand a person might die before thedoctor arrived. She was a doctoramong her neighbors until she becameso old that she couldn't get around.

Mrs. Goodwin had three sons andone daughter, two of which are still

living. The youngest son, who cameto Eden township when six monthsold, is now an old man living inTonica.

Mrs. Goodwin had three brothers,who were killed in the Civil war fight-ing on the Union side. Mr. Goodwincouldn't go to war because he was acripple. He was mowing a field ofgrain with a team of colts when theybecame frightened. He was thrownunderneath the mower and his leg wascut off.

Mrs. Goodwin died at the age ofninety-two. She lived in Eden town-ship from the time she came herefrom New York.The farmers in this vicinity sold

their grain in Chicago. A few farm-ers would go together on such a trip,

which would take more than a week'stime. In order that they could guardthemselves against the large packs ofprairie wolves that roamed about at-

tacking the travelers, they slept undertheir wagons with their guns by their

sides. Another reason they traveledtogether was because of poor roads.Many times the wagons were stuck in

the muddy roads. There weren't any

[24]

bridges at that time and the settlers

had to cross the river on ferries. Ontheir homeward journey they broughthome a barrel of flour, some meat andother necessities.

When the Illinois-Michigan canalwas built the farmers brought their

produce to La Salle. From here tow-boats, pulled by mules on the bankof the canal, carried the grain to

Chicago. When one team becameexhausted or had pulled to its limit,

another team was used, and when

this team had pulled to a certain

place another team was used, and so

on till they hauled the goods to Chi-cago. The canal was supplied withwater from Lake Michigan by a largewater pump near it.

It was these early settlers whomade, this country a better place tolive in. When they came here theyfound a great deal of timber andprairie land, but they have changedit to a thriving agricultural region,growing cities and great farms.

MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHERBy Edward Madden. Dist. 244.

Long before the Civil War occurred,a little group of emigrants took pas-sage on a sailing vessel which left thedock at Liverpool for America, wherethey expected to find and make ahome.One of this little group was Mary

Nangle, my great-grandmother, theone about whom this story is written.

She left her home, her father, moth-er, brothers, sisters and all those sheloved, to follow her young husband,who a year before had gone to Ameri-ca to make a home for himself andyoung wife in the new land.

Realize how lonely she must havefelt, she a young woman of twenty-one years, and of all those on boardthe vessel knew but two young womenlike herself who were going to jointheir relatives across the Atlantic, andin all probability would never see theirold home again.

Their voyage across the ocean wasfar from pleasant, as on two differentoccasions the captain gave up hope ofever reaching their destination. Onenight, in particular, when a greatstorm was raging and the waves,mountain high, rolled over the little

vessel, the captain called the passen-gers together and told them that hehad lost all hope, because the ship hadsprung a leak and would soon sink toth^ bottom of the ocean.Imagine my great-grandmother's

feeling when she heard his words andthought of her folks at home whowould never hear from her again; andher young husband fondly waiting forher in America would wait in vain.She, with her two friends, sat downon the floor of their little cabin,clasped in each others arms, andwrapped in my great-grandmother'sshawl, waited for the end.But God was good to them, and the

little vessel weathered the storm. Ex-

actly thirty-five days from the datethe little vessel sailed from Liverpoolit cast anchor in New York.

Immediately on being dischargedfrom the ship, which took some timefor her baggage had to be inspectedand she had to get a doctor's certifi-

cate of good health, she boarded atrain for Ottawa, in La Salle county,and five days later she arrived at thattown, which at that time consisted ofonly a few hundred inhabitants.

Here she met her young husband,and they at once set out for theirhome in a raw, almost unbrokenprairie, in the northern part of thecounty.

My great-grandmother's husbandhad gone there a year before and built

a small one-room cabin of green tim-ber and covered it on the outside withgreen sods cut from the prairie. Cov-ered on the outside in this way madeit proof against the bitter cold of thelong winters.

The cabin contained a fire-place

made of brick and stone, a home-madetable, a few chairs and a bed.On one side of the cabin was a dug-

out, in which the stock of potatoes,cornmeal, and whole wheat flour andvegetables, raised on the little patchesof soil, were kept.My great-grandmother's life on the

prairie was a lonely one, the winterswere long and the snow fell and cov-ered every thing; drifts piled aboutthe little cabin and stable. The wolveswould come and gather about thecabin. Their howls would keep mygreat-grandmother awake at night,but she soon became accustomed to it.

When her husband loaded his wagonwith grain and drove his team of oxenmany miles to the grist-mill at Day-ton to have his grain ground into flour

and meal, my great-grandmother re-

[25]

mained at home alone. Her husbandwould be absent several days, andvery often when others would havearrived at the mill ahead of him hewould be kept away much longer.

During his absence she would haveto milk their cows, feed their calvesand pigs and do all the work whichwas done by him when he was home.

In the third year of my great-grandmother's stay in her prairiehome her husband was taken sudden-ly and violently ill. My great-grand-mother was alone with him, and asnight came on he lapsed into un-consciousness. She became greatlyalarmed and started out to go to thehome of their nearest neighbor sever-al miles away; when she returnedwith this kind neighbor her husbandhad passed away.A few kind settlers on the prairie

took charge of the funeral arrange-ments and two days later the body

was taken by these kind neighborsand buried in the cemetery at Ottawa.

Three years afterwards my great-grandmother again married andmoved to a larger house.Years passed and she became the

mother of five children, who grew tomanhood and womanhood around her.

Great-grandmother died over twen-ty years ago. The last years of herlife were peaceful and happy.My grandmother has in her posses-

sion a chair in which my great-grand-mother always sat to sing her childrento sleep, and also her little trunk,which she brought to America withher, and which contains many little

mementoes of her early days.My grandmother has often told me

that the dearest memories of herchildhood days are those when she satat great-grandmother's knee andheard over and over the stories of herpioneer days.

PIONEERS OF DAYTONBy Elsie Buser, Dist. 204

The first settler near Dayton wasWilliam Clark, a South Carolinian,who came from Peoria in the springof 1828. He laid a claim here, but inthe fall he sold it to John Greene.John Greene and his companions

came from Licking county, Ohio. Theywere a temperate, moral people, phys-ically strong and vigorous.On their way from Ohio, Greene and

his companions had many hardships.They had to cross pathless woods andflooded streams. Once they came to aflooded stream over which there wasno bridge. Then men cut down treesand made a bridge. There was a ladyin the party who was so nervous thatshe was afraid to cross. John Greenetook her across on his back. Just asthe last person got over, the bridgegave way and was washed downstream. The horses were made toswim across, and one barely escapeddrowning.At night they slept out in the

woods. Some of the men took turnsstaying up nights, keeping watch forhostile Indians.

Greene first settled on the east side

of the Fox river. There he built aflour mill. This was the first one in

this part of the state. This mill

ground flour for farmers within a ra-dius of fifty miles. There were somany farmers waiting to have their

grain ground that they often had tocamp for several days waiting for

their turn. The surplus wheat wastaken to Chicago with ox teams.Later this mill was torn down. Amemorial stone now marks the placewhere the mill stood.

Greene and his companions thenmoved to the other side of the river,

where they built the first wollen millrun by water in the state.

Nathan Proctor was the first manto own a store in Dayton. He was apopular man and everybody thoughtwell of him. Once on a trip to St.

Louis he was caught handing outcounterfeit money. He escaped arrestbut he never returned to Dayton. Inhis store were found prints and dies

for counterfeiting money. Aftersome investigation it was found outthat he was a member of a band of

horse thieves and robbers, probablythe Prairie bandits.Among the other buildings that

were erected in Dayton were a tan-nery, a paper mill, a wagon shop, asaw mill and several stores, all doinga good business.The Chicago, Burlington & Quincy

railroad was built in 1870. Thishelped to increase the population nearDayton and gave the farmers a ship-

ping point for their grain. All farmsnear Dayton were large and were of

rich soil, on which many good cropswere grown.A dam was built across the Fox

river and was maintained by the State

[26]

of Illinois. It was built to turn waterinto the feeder for the Illinois-Michi-

gan canal. This dam was made of

wood. It was later washed out. Re-cently another dam has been built. Apower house was also built there. It

is used in making electricity.

Although the people of Dayton did

not take an active part in the BlackHawk war, they were near enough to

the actual fighting to be alarmed.

John Greene built a fort around hishouse to protect the people of Dayton,but when they heard of the massacreat Indian creek many of them went to

Ottawa to Fort Johnston, where theystayed until the fear of Indians passedover.Some of them went in boats and

others walked along the banks of theFox river to the fort, just south ofOttawa.

MILLS IN OUR NEIGHBORHOODBy Wayne Scott, Dist. 88

Until the year 1830 there were nomills in this part of the country. Thenearest mill up until that time was at

Hennepin; therefore, in bad weatherthe long distance which had to betraveled made is impossible for the

farmers to get their corn ground into

meal, which was so necessary in pio-

neer life. The farmers were obliged

to make the meal by rubbing the earsof corn over a flat piece of tin punc-tured by nails. This meal was usedevery day by the pioneers for makingcorn cake and mush, and had to beground, as flour was not sold at thestores in those days.

In 1830 a mill was put up in Lowell,Illinois, which was operated by waterpower. After this farmers from asfar south as Bloomington, came to gettheir grain ground at the mill. Wag-ons drawn by oxen could be seen go-ing in steady lines to the mill, andfor this reason farmers had to wait forseveral days sometimes to get theirgrain ground.

In a few years railroads began to bebuilt and the farmers thought it wouldbe possible to have a mill run bysteam power as well as the trains;therefore a group of farmers nearTonica, who were all interested inlarge wheat crops, formed a kind ofunion for men and built a mill in Ton-ica. The outstanding man in buildingthe mill was W. I. Wilson. He alsowas the first manager of the mill.

The mill was completed in 1868. JohnKing was given the honor of being thefirst operator of the mill, being chosenby all the other farmers in the union.He was found to be an expert at thissort of business.The carpenters hired to construct

the mill were John Snedaker, RufusTucker, Parker and Bassett. Thesesame men also built the addition tothe mill after business increased. Themill was built in the south end oftown, on the west side of the railroad

tracks, near the Tonica ImplementCompany. The stones used for theburr stones were imported from Nor-way, as there were none to be foundlike them in America. These crusherswere constructed of small sections cutdiagonally, then joined together withsmall iron pins. There were both up-per and lower crushers, or burrs.These sections were cut out diagonallywith small grooves. The upper burrrevolved on the lower burr, then whenthe grain was put in the center it

worked from the center to the outside,delivering it to an elevator which car-ried the ground grain into a separa-tor. The separator was made from avery fine silk which was importedfrom a foreign country. In this sepa-rator the bran was separated fromthe shorts and flour. The farmerswere not satisfied, so the mill was soldJune, 1875. G. Newton, A. West andC. Kimball were the purchasers, pay-ing the sum of eight hundred sixty-

seven dollars. In 1875 an attemptwas made to burn the mill by peoplewho were jealous, but being unsuc-cessful in this they stole several partsof the engine, including the connect-ing rod. In July the mill was pur-chased by John King, who operated it

until the year 1897. Then the largeiron roller mills became so popularthat the old mill was sold to C. F.Austin, who used it as a storage housefor grain.Now there is nothing left of this

mill except the crushers, two of whichare still in Tonica and are used asstiles in front of residences. Onestands in front of the William Harts'residence and the other in front of theMrs. Edwards' residence. There arealso two at the Mason Bullock farm,east of Tonica, which are believed to

have belonged to this mill.

The old Lowell mill mentioned be-

fore was built by William Seeley andCharles Elliot on the banks of the Ver-

[27]

million river. The building was built

of huge rocks taken from the river

bed. These rocks were very irregularin both size and shape and were mor-tared together.

Benjamin Brown was chosen opera-tor of the mill, with John Nicholson ashis assistant, who had learned this

trade in England. Later the mill wasrented, due to the fact that trade be-came less and less because more peo-ple went to the Ottawa and Tonicamills, so it was used to grind feed forlivestock. There was good trade in

this business, and often the men hadto work day and night.

The Vermillion river on which the

mill was located, was also a goodplace for fishing, so people from miles

away often came here and campedwhile they were waiting to get their

feed ground.When the dam across the Vermillion

river began to show signs of age anddecay, no trouble was taken to repair

it as business was slack at that time;

therefore the old mill was idle for

many years before the death of its

last operator, John Nicholson, whodied July 8, 1906. The land aroundthe old mill was purchased by C. T.

Ward. The ruins of the old mill arestill standing at the foot of the Lowellhill as a landmark of pioneer days.

THE FARM RIDGE CHURCHBy Virginia Boles, Dist. 96

About four miles west and one milesouth of Grand Ridge in Farm Ridgetownship is a beautiful buildingknown as Saint Andrew's Episcopalchurch. It is surrounded by verybeautiful trees and an old cemetery.

In the spring of 1835 pioneer set-

tlers came from New Milford, Con-necticut. They settled here to makehomes in the wilderness, which wassurrounded by Indians. The settlers

soon made arrangements to hold serv-ices at certain times in a schoolhousewhich was a little west of what is nowknown as the Pratt place. Theseservices were held in this way until

1851, when Saint Andrew's Episcopalchurch was established. A framebuilding was erected where the pres-ent church now stands. The first

church cost about twelve hundred dol-

lars. Material was brought from Chi-cago by the men who had taken theirproduce to Chicago, which was thenthe nearest trading post. BeebeClarke gave seven acres of land forthe church and cemetery.The first minister of the church was

Rev. Warner, who remained here until

1857. Rev. Woodward then took his

place. After a year Rev. Henry Hies-ter took charge of the church. Hewas minister here for forty -fouryears.

Rev. Hiester was known and lovedby all. He was satisfied to stay hereinstead of going to a larger parish.Rev. Hiester received about four hun-dred dollars a year. He did not haveto depend entirely upon this for hisliving. The people of the communityused to have donation parties on theminister. He also used to husk cornon week days. He finally passed awayat the home of his niece in Oklahoma,in 1906. The remains were sent backto Farm Ridge cemetery and laid torest near his wife and daughter.The next spring a new church was

built. This was made of brick, costingabout five thousand dollars. Shedswere built for carriages and such atthe rear of the church. The churchis not large, but it is large enoughfor the needs of the congregation. It

will seat about one hundred persons.It has a furnace and is lighted byelectricity.

The large memorial window overthe chancel was a gift of Beebe and

[28]

Susan Clarke to the Wo-man's Guild.

It was decided that instead

of a pastor living there, a

pastor from Streator should

come out weekly in the after-

noons. This arrangement ex-

isted for a long time. Butnow the congregation is

large enough to support its

minister, and now he lives in

what was used for the first

parish house. A new parishhouse was recently built.

Every year it was the cus-

tom to have a Harvest HomeFestival. The church is al-

ways decorated in fall colors

and is enjoyed by all. These festivals

are generally given in September or

October.If the pioneer settlers could only

gaze back upon this beautitul newchurch they would wonder and admireit forever, because it is different fromthe church they built.

LIFE STORY OF MRS. EDWARDSBy Roberta Crane, Dist. 171

On February the 17th, 1839, Mrs.Jane Edwards was born to Samueland Susan Inglist, who were both bornin England and emigrated to Evans-ville, Indiana. When they were mar-ried they moved to Mt. Vernon, Illi-

nois, where she was born.In the pioneer days everyone had

to work hard, even the little children

who were old enough to go to school.

When Mrs. Edwards was only fouryears old she was not tall enough to

reach the top of the spindle on thespinning-wheel, so her mother put aboard on top of a box so that shecould stand on this to reach thespindle. She would catch ahold of

the thread and walk back and forthacross the room, and in this way shespun much yarn for her mother.When she was old enough to attend

school she went to a country schoolthat was built of logs. In the middleof the room was a big stove which waskept burning by using logs for fire-

wood. The benches were built on oneside of the room and the little tableswhich they wrote on were built on theopposite wall. The children usedslates to write on.

Every pupil that attended schoolpaid the teacher one dollar for histhree months' services in teachingthem. The school teacher lived at thedifferent homes during the schoolterm (which lasted for three months).He was never asked to pay board orroom rent.

They also had the church in thesame building as the schoolhouse be-

cause they could not afford to have aseparate building. The room for thechurch was partitioned off by a wallabout three feet high. The children

went to Sunday-school and church ev-

ery Sunday. They also went to

church in the morning and again at

night.Mrs. Edwards' parents raised cot-

ton. They had a hand gin whichwould separate the seeds from the cot-

ton. Mrs. Edwards helped gin manypiles of cotton. She did this work atnight and used the flames from thefire-place for a light to see by.

When fifteen or sixteen years old

Mrs. Edwards often went possumhunting. The best time to go wasaround dusk. She had a dog whichshe took with her. She would dressin old clothes and go tramping awayfor some fun. Her mother did notwant her to go, and even threatenedto whip her, but she went anyway.The possum usually was on a branchof a tall tree. She would climb thetree and shake the limb. The possumwould fall to the ground and the dogwould kill it.

When Mrs. Edwards was a child, if

she wanted any little knick-knacks ortrinkets for herself she had to weaveblankets or knit socks out of wool and^11 them. Her parents had manyblackberry bushes. The sheep wereallowed to run through these briars

[29]

and some of their wool would becaught on the thorns. Then shewould go out and pick off the wool,card and spin it, to make useful ar-ticles. Whenever she found a buyershe sold these things and with themoney bought whatever she wished.At the age of twenty-one Mrs. Ed-

wards was married to Samuel Ed-wards, her cousin. Her husband livedin Troy Grove, so that is why she hap-pened to become a resident of ourcommunity.When the Civil war broke out Mr.

Edwards went to help serve his coun-try. At this time she had a sonnamed George. She tried very hardto get enough money to support herfamily, but in vain, so she went toLouisville, Kentucky, where her hus-band was stationed as a soldier. Whenshe arrived at Louisville she had ahard time to find her husband, be-cause there were several thousandsoldiers stationed there then. Aftermaking many mistakes she finally

found Mr. Edwards. She then wentto the soldiers' headquarters and askedfor help. She took them to her roomsand showed them all the socks andother articles which she had knit.

They were pleased, and so every weekshe received a supply of groceries.While residing in Louisville they

lived in a log house two miles fromtown, along the river bank. In theback yard of this place was a logcabin smoke-house. In this house wasa barrel of salt. Mrs. Edwards

thought that this barrel of salt wouldmake a good bank for her money. Soshe actually salted her money down.Here is her recipe: She put hermoney in a fruit can. Then emptiedthe salt out of the barrel and put thefruit can in the bottom of the barrel,then put all the salt back into the bar-rel. She felt as if this was a safehiding place for her money.

After the Civil war Mrs. Edwardsc^me to Troy Grove, Illinois, whereMr. Edwards worked as a harnessmaker until his accidental death.When George was going to school

he had to take his brother Charleswith him in the baby carriage. Therewas a fence around the school yard.Sometimes he would put his brotherin the hall or in the yard. Every sooften the teacher went out to see if

he was all right.Mrs. Edwards never complained.

She helped the poor and gave themuseful clothes.Although she is 93 years old she

has a good memory and is still active.When I called upon her to get thisstory she was making plans for hergarden. She lives alone, does her owncooking and housework. She alsotakes care of all her business trans-actions and is perfectly capable of do-ing these things. She tells her sonthit she does not need a guardian.When I asked her how she keeps soactive she said, "It is because I

worked in the fields while young andlived a temperate life."

MRS. GEBHARD'S PIONEER HOMEBy Charles H. Miller, Dist. 226

Let me take you back to about 1852and watch some men build a house,the home I now live in.

It was built by Christopher Kline-felter for his daughter, Mrs. Kather-ine Gebhart, who lived there from1852 until her death, in 1895. It wasa two-roomed, one and a half storyhouse, one and a half miles north ofthe present town of Troy Grove.There were two rooms downstairs,

and the sleeping apartment was in

the upstairs, with the unplastered raf-ters for a ceiling. The chimneys werebuilt on the joists in the upstairs bvlaying a plank over them and build-

ing the bricks upward through theroof. There was a chimney at eachend which kept the upstairs warm.The stove pipes went through the ceil-

ing. At one time the ceiling and theupstairs floor caught fire near the

chimney, because the place is still

charred. The bricks that the chim-nevs were made of were made near alittle stream on the farm owned byLevi Kreisler. A sawmill was built

on the stream, a town was laid out in

l^ts, and a cemetery made; but thestream could not supply power enoughfor the sawmill, and therefore thetown was never built up, and thebodies in the cemetery were taken toth° Trov Grove cemetery.When this pioneer house was built

it had no insulating between theweather boarding and the plaster andwainscoting. This leaves much coldair into the rooms in the winter.

In the winter wolves came from thetimber and played on the snow bankspnv o"P thp twentv-four hours of theday. for they were very bold in theearly days.

[30]

Near the Little Vermillion river, a

half a mile north of this house, Mrs.Levi Fahler, who lived in the housebefore she was married, remembersthat there were some empty Indianhuts built into the hillsides. Althoughthe Indians had moved out many yearsbefore, the people scared the child-

ren by telling them that the Indianswould get them if they did not behave.John Gebhart rebuilt the house

while he lived with his mother, addingtwo rooms upstairs (there was a lad-

der before), a large kitchen, an openporch and a cellar. After the remod-elling was done, Mrs. Gebhart lived

in one room with her bed, stove andall her cooking utensils, while her sonJohn lived in the other four roomswith his wife and daughter. His wifedied of smallpox, so he married againand moved to a nearby farm that nowbelongs to his daughter, Miss AlmaGebhart.

Mr. and Mrs. Levi Fahler, the oldestmarried couple in La Salle county,and probably in the state, were mar-ried in Troy Grove after coming fromthis house, where Mrs. Fahler hadlived. They moved to the residencenow occupied by Wm. Fahler, a son ofthis couple, Martin being the otherson.

As John Howard Payne said duringthe Civil war, I say now, and it holdstrue to this home:"Mid pleasures and palaces though

we may roam,Be it ever so humble, there's no place

like home;A charm from the sky seems to hal-

low us there,

Which, seek through the world, is

ne'er met with elsewhere.

Home, Home, sweet, sweet Home!There's no place like Home! There's

no place like Home!

AN EARLY SETTLER IN BRUCE TOWNSHIPBy Lois Richard, Dist. 42.

Frederick Richards was born in

Prussia, Germany, in September, 1828.He attended school between the agesof six and fourteen years. He wasvery studious and learned his lessonswell.

After completing his schooling hestudied to be a cooper. He had toserve an apprenticeship. He servedfor four years and became an excel-lent workman, having thoroughlymastered the business in principle anddetail.

When eighteen years old he heardglowing stories of the new world.Comparing the conditions of the oldworld with that of the new he thoughthe might enjoy better advantages onthis side of the water. Competitionwas greater, but advancement wasmore quickly secured. He crossed theAtlantic in a sailing vessel. After avoyage of forty-seven days they an-chored in the harbor of New York.He continued his journey, traveling

bv the way of the Erie canal to Buf-falo and thence by the Great Lakes toChicago. He then proceeded to Ot-tawa over the Illinois-Michigan canal.

His limited resources, combined withnatural ability and energy, renderedimmediate employment a necessity.He entered the services of a Mr. Hoff-man, who was a cooper. Mr. Richardswas hired bv Mr. Hoffman to makepork and flour barrels and butterfirkins.

He lived for two years in Eagletownship, after which he ventured up-on an independent business career. Henow gave his attention to farm labor,

though in the evening he worked at

his trade. In this way he securedsome ready capital. He had enoughmoney at the age of twenty-threethat he was able to purchase a farmof one hundred acres in Bruce town-ship. He began to improve the land.

At the same time he continued to

work at the coopers' trade.

A life of hard work and steady em-ployment won him success, and soonenabled him to add to his farm until

it comprised one hundred and fortyacres. At the age of thirty-three hemadf an additional purchase of twohundred and forty acres. He boughtmore land until he owned more thanhalf a section.

He began feeding cattle and hogs.The same keen business ability andsound judgment which made him suc-cessful in farming the land also

brought him prosperity in the newventure. As the Civil war producedgood prices, he made considerablemoney, which he invested wisely.

At the age of thirty-five he pur-chased one hundred and sixty acres of

land in Bruce township, and fromtime to time has increased his hold-ings until his possessions were morethan twenty-two hundred acres. Hehad become one of the largest land-

[31]

owners in La Salle county. His home-place was a modern farm, suppliedwith all modern equipment and con-veniences that help make farm workeasier and to add to comforts and con-veniences of life in a rural community.

Excellent crops were annually raisedin return for the hard work laboredupon the fields. Good barns, shedsand other outbuildings furnished am-ple shelter for his crops and stock in

Bruce township, feeding as hign asfive hundred head of cattle in a yearand about one thousand head of hogs.A tract of eighty acres which he

purchased, has been divided into townlots and is known as the Town ofRichards.

In 1851 Mr. Richards married MissLeah Coty. They had one child, Wil-liam. He is now a prosperous farmerin Otter Creek township. The motherdied in 1856 and Mr. Richards mar-ried for his second wife Mary Graham.

In community affairs Mr. Richardswas interested to the extent of givinghearty aid to all general welfare. Formany years he served as highwaycommissioner. In 1897 he was ap-pointed postmaster of the town ofRichards.The name of Richards stood for

business reliability as well as busi-ness. He retired from active servicein later years. He moved to Streator,where he lived until his death.

A TRIP TO OTTAWA LONG AGOBy Dale Jones, Dist. 96

Traveling in the earlier days wassomewhat of a long and tiresome taskcompared to that of today.

This story I am about to relate is

about the conditions that existed be-tween the years 1870 and 1880, beforeany form of motor car, even the moreconvenient carriages were used. Theold lumber wagon and the open two-seated carriage, known as "Democratbuggy," were the popular conveyances.My grandmother was quite a small

girl when she remembers making herfirst trip to Ottawa with her parents,who lived near Grand Ridge, thenknown as "Livonia." This little vil-

lage was then in its infancy, only afew houses and a small store had beenerected.Many of the needs of the family

could not be had here, so a largertown had to be sought for some ar-ticles of food and clothing as were re-quired by the family.As Ottawa was a flourishing town

at that time, many of the settlers pre-ferred to make their purchases there.A trip to this city was not only con-sidered a profitable one, but waslooked forward to by the family as asort of holiday, for these occasionswere few and far between.The few miles lying between the

two towns today seems but a shortdistance. For then a full day was re-

quired to make the round trip, for, of

course, the wheat which would be left

nt the mill must be ground into flour

r>nd ready to take home that eveningThe mill in which this work was donestood where the car barns are today,near the Illinois river.

On the day of the trip the family

was up early, chores were attended tofor the day, and after donning theirbest clothes, were in readiness for thetrip.

Traveling west for three-fourths ofa mile they came to the Bloomins;tonroad, now known as Route 23. Verylittle improvement had been made onthis road then. Gravel was neededbadly, and as the townships could notfurnish it, a toll gate was placedsouth of where Peck's dairy farm is

today. A fee of fifteen cents wascharged those who passed through it,

and in this way they obtained themoney to gravel the road. In someinstances there would be people whodid not have the money on their wayto town and were forced to leave theircoat or some possession until their re-turn. This was quite a prominentstructure, being enclosed on both sides

and overhead. It was wide enoughfor a wagon to pass through, and longenough to allow it to be covered whilestopping. A little house stood at oneside for the convenience of the toll-

keeper in bad weather.At the top of Covel creek hill,

where we now find a farmhouse, wasan inn known as the Ostrander inn.

Here one might stay over night, andalso might find their favorite drink,

if they so desired, because a bar wasto be found there, as well as in thecities. Yes, grandma says there wereroadhouses in those days, too.

A little farther south at the nextcrossroad they would pass where onlya short distance west stood theStrawn schoolhouse, where on Sun-days the earlier settlers met to wor-ship and to found a religion which

[32]

would go far toward developing this

new country into a desirable place to

live.

Ihe day in the city would be spentvisiting the various stores, some of

which were Scott's drygoods, Lynch'sdrygoods, Megaffin's shoe store, andothers. Two places in which some-thing to eat might be obtained wereMitchell's restaurant and Roberts'bakery.Ready-made clothes were hard to

get and yard goods had to be pur-chased and the clothes made at home.One of the long-remembered days

to be spent each year was the old set-

tlers' picnic held in Allen park. Boatrides were taken in pleasure boats onthe river. One of the boats wasnamed "The Bell of Ottawa," another"The Sidney S." A big picnic dinner

featured, and visiting among the va-

rious families, with contests andsports.

Grandma says these were sure great

times, but I believe she is more thanglad today to step into a comfortableautomobile and travel on our fine con-

crete roads, and in less than a half

hour make the trip she did then in

almost a half day with old "Dobbin."

EARLY SETTLERS IN OSAGEBy John Cramer, Dist. 17

Let's feel the years slipping back-ward until about 1850. Across thevast fertile region of Illinois comes aprairie schooner containing a forlorn-looking immigrant with his wife andfamily, which consisted of baby sister,

brother and myself, then a lad offourteen, and the sole survivor left

to relate this event.We came from the state of Ohio

about 1850, making the trip with oneox team and one horse team. We weremet by a family who had moved toIllinois a few years previous, andhad taken up a grant of land nearwhere we planned to make camp forthe night. They were delighted tosee us and insisted that we sharetheir home with them until we built,

which was gladly accepted. As night-fall was rapidly overtaking us and wewere all tired, we started to arrangeour beds in our wagons, but nothingwould do but we must sleep in thehouse, which was only 16x18 in size.

So after supper, which consisted ofdried vegetables and a little game weWl killed along the way, we preparedto retire. It was agreed that the oldfolks should sleep on the upper stand-posts, as they were called, the girlsshould sleep on the trundle beds be-low, and my brother and I were tobring in our bed out of the wagon andspread it lengthwise on the floor. Ina very short time we were all asleepand remained in unbroken slumberthrough the night.

It has been our dream for a longtime to take up forty acres of the fer-

tile Illinois soil, and my father decidedto take up the forty acres east of ourneighbor, which proved to be in LaSalle county, Osage township, nearwhere Wenona now stands. He was

[33

attracted to this snot because of thelevel plains and fertile fields. Theplain was covered with green grass,which made it look like a green sea.

We made plans for building our house,which was about 16 by 24 feet, andabout seven feet high, with a floor,

one door and two windows. It wasboarded up and down and well bat-tened. It had a fireplace at one endwhich burned wood, hauled from thetimber near Streator. It was warmand comfortable, and we loved it verymuch for it was home.

If you could have looked into ourhome while the door was ajar onewould have seen a picture similar tothis: The furniture which we hadconsisted of three three-legged stools,

three four-legged ones four feet long,and one table—all made of split tim-bers. The musical instruments werea spinning-wheel, instead of a piano,and the loom, instead of the organ,and a fiddle.

Whenever we were short of suppliesmy father would hitch up his team toIrs wagon and start out for thevillage.

Soon we found it was necessary tomake a trip to the mill to get ourcornmeal ground. The first mill ofthis community was not in Osagetownship. It stood .on the banks ofthe Prairie creek in the village of An-cona, in Livingston county (Reddingtownship), about four miles east ofhere. There was a dam and a water-wheel. We had all our grinding donethere for many years. It ground withtwo large millstones, one turning onthe other, crushing the grain. Thoseold stones still lie on the banks of thecreek at the site of the old mill, themill having been moved to Streatormany years ago.

J

When we got the cornmeal and mymother baked it, with perhaps somepumpkin in it, it made a dish fit fora prince, especially as we had plentyof milk from our cows and had onlyto go into the woods to get our meat

—

venison, prairie chickens and wildducks. With us, even in the pioneerdays, the land flowed "with milk andhoney."The first year we broke twenty

acres of prairie sod and planted it tosod corn, which made a good yield.

This was done with a very rude-look-ing wooden plow which my father hadpurchased on one of his previous tripsto Chicago. The next year we plantedthat ground to wheat and it madeforty bushels per acre. This wheatwas hauled to Ottawa to market, it

taking about three days to make thetrip. With the money my father pur-chased groceries and clothing for thefamily. For firing we used wood,which we got from the timber alongthe Vermillion river. We were happyand contented in -our new home.We were getting new neighbors

every day. Some settlers stoppedthere because of the good soil, whileothers stopped because they weretired and could not go on withoutmore expense and trouble. My fathersold all his surplus stock, grain andhorses to the new settlers coming in.

They paid very well for them, as thatwas the only way they could getsupplies.

There were many wild deer andplenty of prairie wolves, which wekilled whenever they came near ourhome. We had cattle, hogs and sheep,which we had to pen up every night.We had two large dogs, which wecalled "Sanco" and "Lyon." They al-ways stood guard around our home,and they killed many wolves.We burned off the prairie grass

around our home every fall to protectit against prairie fires. Whenever wewanted meat I took my gun and wentout, got some prairie chickens, wildducks, and once in a while a deer.

These conditions soon changed, asour neighbors, who were also from theeastern states, soon had many herdsof cattle running at large on theprairie. Then the land which wefarmed had to be fenced to keep thecattle from destroying the crops. It

was many years before there was anylaw passed to protect the early settlersfrom cattle running at large.Neighbors and friends were coming

on so surprisingly thick that Wenona,the first and only town of the com-munity, was fast becoming a thrivingvillage and a good market for wood,as the I. C. railroad burned wood inits engines in those days. In the win-ter-time the farmers were employedin hauling coal from the Vermillionriver near Streator and loading it in

cars in Wenona, where it was snippednorthward. Wenona, our little vil-

lage, was thriving rapidly. Every-body was excited. It had a post office,

a general store and a blacksmith shop.The buildings were rudely put up bysome of the men around there. Every-body was so pleased now by havingthe mail come and go so fast—bystagecoach. It was drawn by severalhorses. Wenona was doing a thrivingbusiness.

But as the years progressed, timeswere changing and we were advanc-ing with them. We made many im-provements on our farm, were raisinglars:e crops and had a fine orchard.Now, let's skip ahead and compare.

Tf is 1932, about eighty years sincethis lone immigrant made his wayacross the Illinois land in his prairie

schooner to the very spot where I nowlive. If you were to visit this samespot now one would see a very differ-

ent picture. All that remained of ourfirst house has been removed, and in

its place stands a large, modern brickhome, equipped with electric lights

and all other conveniences. A beauti-

fully paved state road runs by the

[34]

door. With the telephone, the

radio, and the electric lines

of the Public Service Com-pany, our home is equal to

that of the city dweller. Anymember of the family can beat church or at high school in

ten or fifteen minutes.Osage is now one of the

greatest agricultural town-ships in the county of LaSalle. The greatest improve-ment made in the land wastile drainage. With its level

land and fertile soil, beauti-

ful homes and hard roads, it

ranks second to none in the

state.

HI5 EXAMPLE

DUE BE5T

r HERITAEE

c*«««/r<"« #si<

THE OLD HOMER TRAILSBy Marjorie Hickok, Dist. 227

Three boys sat under a tree talk-

ing of trails. One boy spoke up, "Iwish we knew more about the trails

of Troy Grove that the settlers used.If we knew, we might explore themsometime."

"Yes," said another one, "It wouldbe a lot of fun to do so."

"Here comes a man who might tell

us something about them. He is quitean old man and I know him well. Hewill be pleased to do it."

The man was liked by everyone andalways ready to tell of the oldentimes. He readily consented to tell

the story the boys wanted to hear.He began: "The first trail used,

which was probably an old Indiantrail, was over the ridges north of LaSalle. It came into Homer from thesouthwest, over what is now calledthe Dimmick road. It passed throughthe site of the village and eastwardon the west side of the Vermillioncreek, past the old Welch and Mein-hardt cemetery.

"It crossed the Mendota branch of

the Vermillion and on toward Triumph,passing the old Kurtz place, the oldCarey cabin, all of which are torndown, but the old trail can still belined through the timber.

"Reynolds, Thornton and the Careyscame over this trail when they settled

here. Shabbona came over this trail

to warn the settlers in Black Hawk'swar, and back over this trail theywent to Fort Wilbur."Another Indian trail crossed the

Vermillion at the highest riffle northof Burris' bridge. It passed eastwardtoward the old dam. About twenty

rods south of the dam the trail forks.The original trail went north and easttoward Chicago. It can still be plain-ly seen through the Burris and oldMitten timbers. Reverend Gould andWm. A. Hickok ran the undergroundrailroad on this trail to Wedron andGouldtown."The south fork of this trail was

used by the Scotch settlers who set-

tled in Waltham, to haul lumber froma saw-mill for their homes and gristfrom the old Meinhardt mill. Thefirst murder occurred on this trail.

"A farmer named Quigly killed aneighbor named Edgecomb. He killed

him with a wagon stake becauseEdgecomb pulled his whiskers."Another trail became the route of

the stagecoach line from Dixon to Pe-ru. It ran straight north fromHomer's main street, swung north-west past the Hepinstall stone houseand went on toward Mendota."The angling part of this trail prob-

ably followed an old Indian trail. It

is said that Hepinstall traded withthe Indians and early settlers, and hadhis home built on the lines of a fort.

It is now torn down, but it was locatedjust a few rods north of the housenow occupied by Charles Barr.

"There were few trails or old roadsgoing across the prairie then becausethe pioneers built roads on the highground or bluffs near the streams. It

was also very muddy on the prairie

in rainy weather."The boys, who had listened very

closely to every word he had said,

thanked him very much for telling

them the story.

[35]

A HOME HUNTERBy Wilden Harris, Dist. 205

Mathias Trumbo was a Scotchman.He came direct from Scotland. Hewas married at the age of twenty-three. The Indians were angry atthe white people at the time of mystory, so he went to the fort at Ot-tawa for protection.He soon grew tired of fort life, so

he took his long rifle and started outto find a home for his wife, childrenand himself.

Mathias forded the Fox river atDayton and went up the east side un-til he came to the second stream onthat side. He followed this stream toits head. The stream started at aspring. He drank from the springand found it to be clean and cool. Helooked around the spring and sawtracks of game. Then looking outfrom the spring he saw a large prairiecovered with all kinds of wild flowers.He decided this would be a good placefor his cabin. For here was plenty ofcold, pure water, plenty of game,enough ground for what little farm-ing he wanted to do. He intended tomake his living by hunting and trap-ping. He took another drink of thecool water and started back to thefort. On the way he shot a deer,which he hung up in a tree so that thewolves could not get it.

The next morning he took his broadax and went back to the place selectedfor his home. He made just a com-mon cabin with only one room, twobeds, one on legs and another on thefloor in a corner, a large fireplace,

two chairs and a table. In the springanother cabin took the place of thisone.

There were a lot of Indians aroundin the woods. At one time five Indianscame to the cabin, the woman wasmuch frightened for she was all alone.Her husband had been away all dayin the woods hunting. The redmenwalked silently to the door of thecabin. The chief knocked at the doorand waited till it was opened by thewoman. The chief made signs thatthey were hungry and wanted some-thing to eat. The woman had a cakeand some meat on the table. Shetook them out of the room and placedthem on a stump just outside of thecabin. The Indians squatted aroundthe stump and began to eat. Theyused their fingers to tear the meatapart.

When they had eaten all of themeat and cake, the chief gave a shrillwhistle with his fingers. Out of thewoods came two more Indians. Theylooked at the crumbs and bones onthe stump with greedy eyes. Thewoman saw how hungry they wereso she went back into the cabin andgot some more meat. She had nocake left. The two Indians madeshort work of it.

The chief took from the bags thatthe other Indians had brought, twobeaver skins. He laid them on thestump to pay for the food the womangave them. The two Indians pickedup the bags and all walked silentlyaway into the forest.When the Indians were gone she

picked up the two skins and saw thatthey were in the best of shape.One time five families were moving

to another part of the country whenthey lost one of the little girls. Theywere at the fort at Ottawa when theymissed her. Mathias and two moremen started out to hunt her. Whenthey came to the place where the peo-ple had moved from they found onlyashes and moccasin tracks of Indians.Then they knew that the Indians hadgot the little girl. They found theIndians on a small creek about one-half mile north of the place where theGrove schoolhouse now stands. Thethree men were captured before theycould get away. They tied all threeof them up till night. The first manto be cut loose started fighting assoon as the last rope fell from hisbody. All the Indians fell upon himwith whoops of joy, for they wantedaction. The man was killed, but heleft some battered Indians behind him.One Indian's nose was broken andblood was streaming from it. An-other had an eye that was turning to

a pretty black.

The second man was hanged. Whenit came Mathias' time one Indian saidit would be a good night for a fire.

At once all the Indians began togather wood for a fire. When theyhad the fire started they untied Ma-thias. As soon as he was free hejerked loose from his captors andjumped into the creek. He swam alongunder the water and came up underthe bank for air. After he had gonefar enough he got out of the creekand went back to the fort. The little

[36]

girl was returned to her parents bythe Indians.

Mathias' children grew up and mar-ried. Mathias lived to be ninety yearsof age.To day the third generation occupy

the land that their forefathers foughtfor and tamed. His grandson sold the

hilly part of the farm because it is

much easier to make a living on thefertile plains.

One of the men who occupy the

land is Franklin Trumbo. He hassome of the old things his great-

grandfather had, such as a candlem^ker, yoke for oxen, and an old flute.

There is a large rock about one-halfmile back from his house in his pas-

ture. On this rock is carved the date

and who settled the land.

The spring that Mathias found is

still running. It is over one hundredyears old. It has cut a deep ditch, withthree falls of about ten feet high. Oneof the largest falls fell a year ago.

The rock was about one foot thick andtwenty feet wide.

HARDSHIPS OF EARLY DAYSBy Lorraine DeBolt, Dist. 197

During the early part of the nine-teenth century my great-grandparentsdecided to come to La Salle county,Illinois, to try their luck as pioneers.They settled in what is now Daytonand Rutland townships.On the second of November, 1829,

five families left Licking county, Ohio,to come and settle in Illinois. Thepeople undertaking this very difficult

trip were the three Green brothers,Basford, Reason DeBolt. and theirfamilies. They were also accom-panied by a few young men.

Their outfit was composed of onef^ur-voke ox team, three two-horsewagons and one carriage. My great-grandfather. Reason DeBolt, had onlyone horse of his own. The roads werepretty good; that is, they were atleast passable, until they reached In-diana, where they were compelled tostop for three days on account of badweather, which caused the streamsand rivers to rise very high. Al-though they came upon other teams,who were weather-bound and toldthem discouraging tales, they pro-ceeded westward, cutting their waythrough heavy timber and averagingabout ten miles a day. During thejourney one of the party with a childin his arms was thrown from the car-riage, breaking three of his ribs, andthe wheel passing over the child. Asneither were dangerously hurt theyproceeded on their way with no com-plaining.Upon arriving at Parish's grove, in

Iroquois county, Illinois, they followedan Indian trail to Hubbard's tradingpost, on the Iroquois river, where theypurchased all the corn they could get,(about eight bushels).They also purchased a canoe, which

they loaded with goods. Three of themen took the canoe, paddled down the

Iroquois to the Kankakee, then to theIllinois, where they were to meet theteams. This lightened the load somefor the teams, which were worn outand poor from scarcity of food.The prairies which they had to

cross appeared to have no bottom andsome of the streams were so deep thattrees were felled to form temporarybridges to cross on, while otherswere crossed by making the horsesswim. One woman became so nerv-ous that she could not walk acrossthe bridge, so John Green took heron his back and went across on his

hands and knees.Once during a heavy rain they

camped in a small grove. As it wasvery cold they cut up boxes to makea fire, and most of them sat up all

night. One woman, however, laid

down in the wagon and tried to sleep,

but in the morning she was frozenfast and could not rise.

It took them over three days to reachthe mouth of the Kankakee, a distanceof 30 miles. There they met the menwith the canoe and ferried most oftheir goods over the Illinois, until afriendly Indian showed them a ford,where they could cross without diffi-

culty.

On December 5th, 1829, they camein sight of a grove (now Holderman'sgrove), where Mr. Green obtainedsome beef and corn from a Mr. Bares-ford. The company of people, whowere nearly starved, had a great feastwhen Mr. Green returned.On December 6th they finally

reached their destination. Havingnot even a match with them they wereforced to make sparks by scrapingtheir jack-knives against a stone.They had nothing but axes with whichto make their shelters, which werelog cabins. To grind their wheat and

[37]

corn they put the grains between twostones and rubbed them together.By July 4th they had 240 acres of

land fenced and broken, and had built

a sawmill, a dam and race, and had arun of boulder mill stones in one cor-

ner of the sawmill grinding wheat,which was the first that was groundon the Fox river. The boulders werefound by Christopher Payne, a brotherof the Dunkard preacher, who waskilled by the Indians three years later.

The Greens settled in what is nowDayton, the Basfords on what is nowthe Trumbo farm, and the DeBoltsnear what is now Sulphur LickSprings, or St. Joseph's HealthResort.

They secured a pretty fair living

and lived peacefully until 1832, whenthe Black Hawk war broke out.

One night Shabbona, a great Indianchief, came to warn these settlers thatthe Sauks were on the warpath. Thesettlers hurried to the fort, whichstood where the Lester Strawn resi-

dence now stands in Ottawa. Theyremained there for some time andonly ventured out once in a while.

Finally peace was declared and the

settlers went back to their homes.Reason DeBolt used to tell my grand-father how he had joined the Indiansin their wrestling matches, races,

hunts and other games.

A STAGECOACH TAVERNBy Helen Chapman, Dist. 203

If buildings could talk what inter-

esting stories the horse barn on Doc-tor Deems' farm, near Wedron, couldtell. It was formerly a stagecoachtavern, built on the western branchof the Chicago-Peoria road, in theearly 1830's, by Reuben Miller, whowent west with the Mormons to Utahin 1847. It was situated about eightyrods north of where it now stands.

In 1849 the place was sold to Rob-ert Turner, then in 1860 was sold to

D. G. Deenis, father of the presentowner, Doctor C. G. Deenis, who hasso kindly given me these facts. In1886 Dr. Deenis moved the building to

its present location and converted it

into a horse barn.The siding of the building was of

black walnut, which is still in use onthe north side. The interior finish, in-

cluding doors, floors, steps and ban-isters of the tavern, were also madeof black walnut. The lath were madeby nailing one edge of a thin whiteoak board to the studding, then split-

ting with a chisel and nailing belowthe split. Then they again split theboard and nailed below the split, etc.

The shingles were the old-fashionedhand-made shaved shingles. Theywere made by sawing a log in narrowboards and then the boards weresawed the size of a shingle. Bothsides had to be shaved, but one endwas narrower than the other. Theshingles were still used on the build-

ing for several years after it wasmoved.The tavern was the largest one

around here then, and no doubt it en-tertained its share of celebrities of

that time. It was two stories high

and had three bedrooms upstairs; twobedrooms, a dining room and kitchencombined, and a large living roomdownstairs. The kitchen had a brickfireplace, which took four-foot wood.It had a crane or hook over the fire-

place as they did all of their cookingthere. There was a smaller brick fire-

place in one of the bedrooms upstairs.The bedrooms had beds and trundle-beds, which slipped under themThere was a thirty-foot well on the

back porch of the tavern that had awindlass and bucket to draw thewater.On the back door there was a latch-

string to lift the bolt. Another waythey unlocked the door from the out-side was to put a curved wire througha hole about four inches above thebolt. The wire caught in some notchesput there for that purpose, and theycould pull the bolt back.The front door was made of black

walnut, with two panels of glass downeach side of it. The panes were five

by eight inches.The stables were across the road

and had accommodations for manyhorses.

This part of the country was cov-ered with timber, and Indians werecommon then.

We hear much about rail fences, buta sod fence was used to separate theMiller farm from an adjoining farm.The first plow in this part of the

country that had an iron moldboardwas made by a Mr. Boardman, of

Dayton for Joseph Grove. Mr.Deenis wanted to borrow that plowto see how it worked in the prairiesoil. Mr. Grove said, "You may take

[38]

the plow, but I want you to take it

into the house at night." Mr. Deenissaid, "I only want it for about anhour." It was satisfactory, so Mr.Deenis had Mr. Boardman make hima plow with a steel landside. LaterMr. Grove saw it and saw how pol-

ished it was, and he said, "I don't

know, but I think there's too muchfriction there."

Doctor Deenis tells this interesting

story of how Buck creek was named.

It flowed not very far from the tav-ern. In the winter of 1836 Jake Kiteand D. G. Deenis, father of DoctorDeenis, were staying at JosephGrove's. Jake Kite crossed the frozenriver and shot a large deer. He re-

tured to Grove's and asked Mr. Deenisto help him bring it over. Mr. Deenisasked, "Where is the deer?" and JakeKite replied, "Oh, over on Buck creek."It has been known as Buck creek eversince.

A CONFEDERATE UNIFORMBy Margaret Fullerton, Dist. 193

I am a Confederate uniform madein Sheffield, England, many years ago.

The Confederate people did nothave enough factories to supply their

army with clothes so I happen to beone of the uniforms which came fromabroad. I was made in Sheffield andsent to Liverpool by the ship canal.

Upon arriving there I was put on asteamer and sent to London by way of

the Irish Sea and St. George's Chan-nel. Here we were loaded on a shipand sent across the Atlantic ocean to

Cape Fear, at the southeastern coastof North Carolina.

Upon our arrival at this port wewere sent to Richmond, the southerncapital. I was then given to RobertFullerton to wear. I was badly tornin the battle of Gettysburg, as mymaster received some serious woundsin this battle.

I then went back home to Vicksburg,Miss., and remained there for sometime.

During my stay there I saw men re-

turned to find their homes destroyedand women and children dead fromstarvation and suffering.

If I could have talked I would havethanked the people who finally put anend to this trouble.

I remained here until 1866, whenmy master died from wounds. Hisson then packed his trunk and sailedup the Mississippi river to the Illi-

nois river. We sailed up the Illinois

river until we reached Ottawa.My new owner worq me in helping

to cultivate the soil and build a homein Wallace township. Although I wasgray, and some of the people work-ing near me wore blue, it didn't makeany difference. We were both madefor the same purpose, only to be wornon different sides, and now we wereworn side by side as the people wereto be like brothers now.

I have often heard my master relate

his story of the hardships endured bythe people of the South.

After my master had made enoughmoney to buy clothes, I was laid awayin an old mohair trunk, which is atleast a century old. Many years haveelapsed since I was laid away in thetrunk, but last year when La Salle

county was celebrating its centennialyear, the people who live in the housewhere the trunk is, took me from myhiding place in the old mohair trunkand, although the other old relics thatwere in the same trunk were exhibitedat the celebration, I was not, becauseof mv threadbare condition. I wasplaced back in the trunk after theother relics were put back, and I still

remain there.Many people have seen me since

my appearance in Wallace townshipand I am beginning to think if timesdon't change I may be taken out foruse again.

ECHOES OF PIONEER DAYSBy Doris Petersen, Dist. 21

Out of the past comes a echo. It

is a faint breath from the land ofEden, our home township.As the name suggests, it is a pleas-

ant spot in which to live, because it

is well watered by two creeks, Bailey'sand Cedar. Farming is the main in-

dustry. There are only two villages

in this land of Eden—Cedar Point andTonica, each of which has five hun-dred inhabitants according to the lat-

est census.What about the yesterdays? Shall

we listen to the echo?In 1853 the Illinois Central railroad

was built through Eden township from

[39]

WASH I NGTDNTHE FATHER

OF" OURCOUNTR

south to north. In the same year Ton-ka was laid out by Mr. A. J. West, in

the southeastern part of the town-ship on railroad land. Two housesstood there, one occupied by Mr. Westand the other by Mr. W. Burgess. Theold flour mill was later built oppositethis house.

After the village was laid out, JohnHarkins built the first residence. It

stood north of the Tonica Hotel. Be-sides these buildings there was also adepot and a small wool storehouse.The first store was opened by the"New England Protective Union Com-pany." In later years it was used fora harness shop.

Tonica also had a furniture store,

owned by Mr. O. Cushman. Most ofthese buildings were made of wood.There were only two buildings ofbrick construction. These were theonly buildings left standing after thefire of 1867, which swept through themain street. This was a great loss tothe village, but the results were good,for when new buildings were built toreplace those which had burned downthey were made of brick.

Before any post office was built, Mr.West, the man who laid out Tonica,k«nt a post office in his house. Later,when a depot was built, he becamestation agent, and the post office wasmoved from his house to the depot,where another man had charge of it.

The first real post office was namedBailey's Point, after Mr. Bailey, whowas the first postmaster of the new

[

office. It did not always bear thatname. Later it was called "Point Re-publican," when Champlain R. Potterbecame postmaster.As yet, Tonica had not become in-

corporated as a village. However, in

1859 an election notice stated that thepeople could vote on the question De-cember 26, following. No one votedagainst it.

Tonica grew slowly, but steadily. In1886 it had a population of six hun-dred and fifty. That is more than it

has today.As an aid to the farmers, Tonica

had two elevators to which the menwho raised grain could bring theirproducts. Burgess, Flint and Com-pany bought the first elevator fromthe New England Protective UnionCompany. This company also dealt in

lumber and tile. The tile came fromLowell. The other elevator was built

by Mr. Bryne, of La Salle. Largeamounts of grain were shipped fromthis elevator. Each year about fifteen

thousand bushels left it. The lumberyard was located west of the Illinois

Central railroad.The first mill was built in Tonica in

1867. It stood for sixty-four years,because it was not torn down until

1931. Mr. W. J. Wilson was in chargeof this mill until 1875. In that yearJohn King bought it.

Since carriages were used much in

the early days, Tonica had a carriagefactory. Mr. L. A. Kaiser was theowner. He had seven men workingfor him. They made about forty car-riages a year. Some of the men, whowere good painters, put on the fin-

ishing touches. Many good-lookingcarriages of their make were drivenalong the roads near Tonica.Such a prosperous little village

needed a bank. Therefore, in 1881,The Tonica Exchange Bank was estab-lished by Mr. Little. Later he sold

the business to Mr. Hamer. Edentownship was not the only townshipwhich had business with this bank;five or six others also did their bank-ing here. Later, the name waschanged to The Tonica Bank. It wasused for deposits in addition to ex-change.

Mr. Geo. A. McFerson. who is liv-

ing at the present day, did business in

boots and shoes in 1871. Later hewas in charge of the undertakingbusiness. His undertaking parlor wasin a wooden building north of theKavs garage.

Tonica had a newspaper in 1872.

40]

It was called "The TonicaNews." For a short time "TheTonica Local," was printed at

Wenona and issued by Mr.W. A. Flint.

The first schoolhouse wasbuilt in the corner of what is

now the cemetery. Later it

was moved down town, andused there until fire de-

stroyed it in 1858. The sameyear a new building wasbuilt where the old one wasfirst located. It was a four-room frame structure whichcost eight thousand dollars.

The first principal was O. M.Tucker. About two hundredpupils attended. The mem-bers of the board of directors in 1886were Mr. 0. H. Barrass, president, Dr.Black, and Dr. Jennings, secretary.

Three churches were organized at

Tonica—the Baptist, which was movedto Tonica from Lowell; the Methodist,and the Congregational, which hadthirteen members.

There are many tales from the land

OURNOBLELEADER

/H-*t /y Oj<y„„

of Eden, but the voice of the Echo be-

comes weaker and as it fades away it

seems to be sighing the song of theold settlers:

"As thus with failing steps we meetThe oft returning snow,

We'll not forget the old log cabin

Where we lived so long ago."

IMMIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATESBy Esther Johnson, Dist. 314

On a little farm in southwesternNorway there lived a farmer, his wifeand a happy family of eleven children.

My Greatuncle Torger Johnson wasthe eleventh child, and he was an ad-venturesome little lad, indeed.The farm was situated twelve miles

from Christianson, the nearest town,and as they had no more convenientmeans of travel, they walked. There-fore, you can well imagine it was agreat occasion when they made thejourney.Torger spent his childhood happily

on the farm, but when he was abouttwenty years of age he decided to goto that great land of promise, Ameri-ca. It was approximately the year of1850 that he bid a fond farewell tohis family and set out walking toChristianson and there boarding alarge immigrant ship bound for NewYork.

Luckily uncle did not suffer fromsea sickness, as many people do, butstood on the deck and watched theshores of his native land disappear in

the distance. I wonder if he sufferedany pangs of regret at leaving, or if

he was full of hope and expectationof the future?

After six long tiresome weeks atsea they finally arrived at New York.

Ah! America at last! Upon landing,Uncle Torger went to a boarding-house, where he boarded during his

stay at New York. It was not long,

however, before he left this city andstarted for the prairies of Illinois.

It is not known clearly how he madethe journey, but we believe he cameby way of the Erie canal and GreatLakes to Chicago. Thence he wentto Elgin, where he stayed with his

sister, Mrs. Nelson, who had come to

this country at an earlier date, beingone of the very early immigrants to

this state.

At this date the settlers did nothive the Indians to attack them, butthey had other obstacles to contestwith; for instance, they had no rail-

roads, or cars, and no good roads, andthe farmers were forced to go thelong distance from their farms to Chi-cago with their grain in their wagons.Uncle often made the journey. How-ever, it was not long after uncle camehere that the first railroad was startedfrom Chicago westward through thewilderness, and Torger worked onthis. While working here he becameinterested in the territory arouni Le-land, and when the railroad was com-pleted he came here and settled. Hewitnessed the construction of the first

[41]

depot in Leland, and saw the first

train pass over the tracks. It was agreat sight! The little steam enginepuffing along the shiny new rails, andmen and women standing along thesides cheering and waving their hats!

This seemed to tell of how the Westwas prospering and bind the state

closer together, bringing the peoplemore quickly from one place to an-other. Now the farmers had but tohaul their grains to the railroad sta-

tion and send it from there to Chicago.As land was cheap in those days

Torger Johnson purchased some landthree and one-half miles southeast of

Leland and transformed it into apleasant farm.When the Civil war broke out in

1861 Torger was living happily on his

farm, and although he was willing toenlist, he was not taken. Instead, hewent to stay with his sister, Mrs. Nel-son, and her children, while her hus-band served in the war. It was a try-

ing four years, although the effects

of the war was not felt so severely in

Illinois; but they passed quickly, andMr. Nelson returned unharmed to his

family. Uncle was anxious to startfarming again, so he left soon after

Mr. Nelson came home, and came backto the spot dearest to his heart.As he became more and more suc-

cessful in America he began thinkingof the dear ones he had left behind in

Norway, and longed to have themwith him. Therefore he sent ticketsto his old home and bid them come toAmerica. So in due time many of hisrelatives arrived, and many of themsettled near Leland. Uncle was abachelor, and before this time hadbeen living alone, but now his sister

Anna insisted on staying with himand keeping house.The last years of his life were spent

happily on his farm. He now had suc-ceeded in doing all he had planned.His sisters and brothers were all in

America with him and getting a goodstart at some occupation. He died atthe age of seventy-four years, fromthe results of an operation.

In the little Indian Creek cemeterythere is a little stone which marks thesnot where the most honored of all

our ancestors lies, Greatuncle TorgerJohnson, who came to America whenonly a lad and made a success, helpingthose less fortunate to find a home in

America.

HAPPY DAYS GONE BYBy Adalene M. Spach, Dist. 315

"Grandma, for our final examina-tion in grammar we are to write astory about old times. I wonder if

you and Grandpa wouldn't help me bytelling me some interesting thingsyou did when you were young?"

"I think we can help you. I'm sureit will be interesting for us to recall

the old days. What shall we talk

about first?" asked Grandma, her eyestwinkling with excitement. "PerhapsI'd better begin by telling you howold we are."

"I was born on a farm in November,1857, about four miles from whereyou now live.

"Your Grandpa was born on a little

farm at Northville, in July. 1853."

"Grandpa, do you remember howN^rihville was in those days?"

"Yes; Northville was a little inlandvillage consisting of a blacksmithshon, wagon shop, post office and gen-eral store. It was also a stoppingplace for the stagecoach going be-tween Ottawa and Sycamore.""Do you remember any interesting

people of Northville?""Let me see," said Grandpa, scratch-

ing his head. "John Tyrell was the

blacksmith who ironed the wagons af-

ter Frank Rogers, the wagon maker,had made the wooden parts. The wa-gons were then taken to Newark to

be painted.""Northville also had a schoolhouse

in which spelling bees, singing-schooland Sunday services were held."

"What did you do at spelling bees?""Spelling bees were held in first one

school and then another. The prin-

cipal schools were Northville, Calla-

gan and Dewey, the one which younow attend. The spelling bees wereheld by the young folks. Sides wouldbe chosen. They would then line upagainst the walls, facing one another.The visiting teacher would pronouncethe words for the first spelldown.

Then sides were chosen again and the

home teacher would pronounce the

words. No prizes were given. Afterthe spelldown they would visit awhile,

then go home.""What did they do at singing

schools—just sing?""No; people went to singing schools

for regular singing lessons, whichlasted about an hour. A singing school

term lasted about twelve weeks. It

[42]

cost about five dollars a term. We at-

tended once a week. At the end of

the term a concert was given and thesinging master received all the pro-ceeds. Jack Mills, of Earlville, wassinging master. He used a tuning-fork to sound the first note of a scale

or song. After the lessons were overthe rest of the evening was spent in

visiting."

It was just about this time thatGrandma chuckled and looked teasing-ly at Grandpa, "I must tell you a jokeon Grandpa," she said, laughing. "Talk-ing of singing school and visiting re-

minds me of it. One evening duringthe lesson Grandpa and Miss Hummbecame so interested in their conver-sation that they never noticed whenthe singing stopped. Mr. Mills said,

'When those two stop their visitingwe will go on with our lesson.' Theirconversation stopped immediately."

"In one of our pioneer stories weread about husking bees. Did youhave them when you were young?"

"Yes, we held our husking bees atthe Brunson farm," Grandpa said.

"About twenty young men and boyswent to husk the standing corn. Mrs.Brunson served dinner. At night theywould all hurry home for chores andsupper, dress in their Sunday clothes,get their girls and hurry back to theBrunson home to 'trip the light fan-tastic' until the small hours of morn-ing. At midnight they were treatedto an oyster supper by Mrs. Brunson."

"Mr. Brunson used to have an arti-ficial fish pond, too," Grandma said."He used to stock this pond with fish

from his own fish hatchery.""I remember George Townsend, a

neighbor of Brunson's, who used tomake good, thick sorgum molassesfor the small charge of one dollar afifty gallon barrel," Grandpa said.

"The farmers used to raise the cane.""Didn't you ever go to school?""School? You can just bet we did!"

exclaimed Grandma. "We had twoterms a year. The summer termstarted after corn planting was done.

The winter school term started aftercorn husking was done. A new teach-er was usually hired for each term."During the winter that Leroy Mc-

Kinley taught the Callagan schoolthere were about sixty in attendance.One day a boy between the age oftwenty-one and twenty-two did somemisdeed on the playground that theschoolmaster happened to see. Hesaid nothing, but when the bell ranghe stepped back inside the doorway asusual. When this young man camethrough the door Mr. McKinley grab-bed him by the collar, turned himover a desk and gave him a goodspanking with the fire shovel.

"The children were afraid of this

teacher because he was strict, andperhaps they dreaded the fire shovel,too!"

"I think I heard you say somethingabout a church. Do you rememberabout that?"

"Yes; it was a Methodist church,built north of the schoolhouse. It wasbuilt by a Mr. Farnell when I wasabout sixteen years of age. It wasa large two-story building. The serv-ices were held upstairs, while thebasement was used for social activ-

ities. It was the center for all social

affairs. Debates, concerts and playswere held every week, and each ac-

tivity was largely attended. Thepreacher received large donations. Hewas boarded first at one home, thenanother. This church was sold andtorn down about fifteen years ago."Abe White was an apprentice in

Frank Rogers' wagon shop. He wasan active member of the church.Later he became a noted man in theMethodist Rock River conference."

"Oh, dear," said Grandma, glancingat the old-fashioned clock, "see howlate it is!"

"I hone you can make a good storyfrom what we have told you," Grand-pa said.

"I'll do the best I can, and thankvou both for helping me—it's been so

interesting that the time has flown."

BENJAMIN LUNDYBy Dolores Schroeder, Dist. 33

Benjamin Lundy was born in 1789in Hardwich, Sussex county, New Jer-sey. He had but little schooling.He lived in Virginia, and while he

was there he learned to hate slavery.In his early manhood he moved toOhio. Here he organized the "UnionHumane Society" to fight slavery, and

[43

wrote anti-slavery articles for news-papers. When he entered this workhe said he would keep it up for thepoor negroes' freedom.While in Virginia he saw many a

slavemaster beat his slaves, and evenburn them at stakes, because theycouldn't pick enough cotton or do their

]

work satisfactorily. He thought thatslaves had as much right in theUnited States as any white man did.

He started an anti-slavery paper in

1821. He called it "Universal Eman-cipation," the first anti-slavery journalin America. The paper was movedto Baltimore in 1824, and later to

Washington, where after a few yearsit failed. In 1822 he removed to Ten-nessee Then he later traveled southand stopped at each town, borrowingprinting presses and publishing hispaper at different times. He visitedTexas and once Mexico.

In 1836 he started the "NationalInquirer" in Philadelphia, but later re-

tired from it, two years later.

In Philadelphia a large abolitionist

hall was built in 1838. A mob burnedit and burned all of Lundy's papersand books. This made him more bit-

ter against slavery.Later he moved to Illinois. He

couldn't publish a paper in Hennepin

and the citizens of Lowell invited himto come there with his paper. He set-

tled here in 1838. His paper waspublished irregular because of thelack of funds and help. His sonshelped, but they were kept quite busywith the farm work. His paper is

now the "Chicago Daily Tribune."Lowell was one of the stopping

places of the underground railway.Another underground railway was inTonica. The stopping place was bythe old grist-mill that was built byBaily Barrass in 1840. The negroeswere brought up from the South in

the night, rested and hid by day andsent onward to Canada by night.

Mr. Lundy had the intention of re-newing the "Genius of UniversalEmancipation," but in August, 1839,he was attacked by fever. He diedthe 22nd of August, 1839. He wasthen 50 years old. He was buriednear Clear Creek, Putnam county,Illinois.

GRANDFATHER'S EARLY HOMEBy Ethel Chapman, Dist. 163

My great grandfather came to Illi-

nois from Ohio in 1832, on horseback.His name was Samuel Parr. He wasa carpenter and cabinet maker. Hebuilt the Joseph Brumback house in

1833.Joseph Brumback's wife was my

great-grandfather's sister Mary. Sam-uel Parr made his home with theBrumbacks while building his ownhouse, which still stands on the home-place in Manlius township, north ofMarseilles.The beams in this house are black

walnut, hand hewed. There is a fire-

place which will take four-foot backlogs. The crane in the fireplace hadhooks on which to hang kettles. Theoriginal andirons were wrought iron.

He made the doors, cupboards andpanellings in the wainscoating byhand. The cellar floor is of Joliet

stone, brought by canal boat fromthe quarry at Joliet.

The piers of the barn are also ofJoliet stone. The beams are handhewed. The braces and beams areput together with wooden pegs.Saw logs were hauled several miles

to a sawmill to be sawed into boards.The deed to my great-grandfather's

farm was signed by President VanBuren. The land was land grantedto Illinois and Michigan Canal Com-pany and sold for $1.25 to $1.75 anacre, depending on whether it was

timber or prairie land, timber at that

time being more desirable. My grand-father split out thousands of rails to

make rail fences. They farmed thehighland because there were manyponds and swamps.

This wild prairie land was beauti-ful with flowers. The ponds andswamps were full of wild fowl andvarieties of snakes. There were bothprairie and timber wolves, and occa-sionally a panther. There was wildgame; deer and wild turkeys wereplentiful.

People who later built north on theprairie used the timber as a commonpasture.

There were no roads laid out, peo-ple traveled where it was easiest, us-ually on the highest land. The trail

then going north of the house. Afterthe road was surveyed on the properline it went south of the house insteadof north. If it had been placed on theproper line it would have gonethrough the big barn, which is at least

twenty-five rods south of the house.

At the time my great-grandfatherbuilt this house, the nearest housenortheast was at Big Grove, and the

fort at Ottawa was the nearest place

of refuge when Indians came.Before the canal went through,

wheat was hauled by wagon (four

horses on every wagon) to Chicago,

[44]

where it was loaded and shipped east

on boats. Usually several neighborswent together for protection. Thetrip took five days—two days goingin, one to unload and load a returnload of merchandise for themselvesand neighbors, and two days to comeback. Wheat was ground into flour

at Elerdings' mill, north of Sheridan.Wool was taken to Dayton, where it

was made into flannel, usually red.

My grandfather and the Millikens,

the Trumbo's and the Fogies keptpacks of foxhounds and went hunt-ing, as the English do. They all hadgood saddle horses; they could jumpfences and ford rivers. They went as

far west as La Salle and north alongthe river past Sheridan. They killed

wolves, but a fox, when run to earth,

was never dug out and killed.

Joseph Brumback had a sorghummill and made molasses for himselfand the neighbors. One night mygrandfather, George Parr, was help-

ing the Brumback boys, his cousins,

boil down syrup when they decided to

make some taffy candy. Mr. Brum-back came to see if everything wasall right, and it happened that the boywho was drawing the molasses did notturn the faucet off far enough and abarrel of molasses drizzled down thecreek.Here is another story of my grand-

father's boyhood: He and his cousinswere looking for their cows. Theysaw a neighbor also looking for hiscows. The boys climbed a tree andhid. When the neighbor came near^he tree, they screamed like a panther.The man ran home without waitingto find his cows. He afterwards toldthere was a panther in the woods.

There is also a story handed downfrom my grandfather that while hewas building a house a man visited

and spent the night. He placed hisviolin in the wall behind the wains-coating. When he went away he left

it there. My great-grandfather, notknowing the violin was there, lathedand plastered the wall. The violin is

there yet, if the story is true.

GRANDFATHER'S LIFEBy John Pillion, Dist. 193.

Thomas Pillion, my grandfather,was born in Tipparary county, Ireland,

in the year of 1840. When a youngman he left the land of his birth to

seek his fortune in other lands, finally

landing at New Orleans. Here he se-

cured work on the levees of the Mis-sissippi river and worked for manymonths. He also worked as deck handon the steamboats plying on the Mis-sissippi and Illinois rivers.

On one of these journeys he stoppedin Ottawa during the year 1860 andobtained work from a coal contractornamed Peter Skusce. Here he pur-chased a team of horses and wagonpnd began digging coal. This he soldto the residents of Ottawa.

In 1862 he married Hanorah Cull,t>>p daughter of Michael and ElizabethCuH. They went to housekeeping in

a little cabin on the bank of the Foxriver, across from where the water-works now stands. The accommoda-tions were very poor and they decidedto move into the country. In Marchof 1875 he bought an eighty acre farmin section five of Wallace township.uf bought this land from John Mc-Carthy. Loading his household goods^nd some supplies in his wagon, withhis wife and seven children theystruck out on the trail across theprairie to their new home.

At that time Wallace had no drain-age system, and being a flat prairie agreat many difficulties were encoun-tered in trying to reach their newhome. Sometimes they would have todrive a great distance out of theirway to avoid the sloughs, as there wasa great deal of water here in thatseason of the year.When the spring opened they be-

gan planting their crops on the highground. The oats and wheat groundwere plowed with a walking plowdrawn by two horses. Then sown byhand, cut with a cradle, then threshedwith a flail. The corn ground wasplowed in the same manner and it waswas harrowed.The harrow was made by driving

wooden pegs into bars of wood, andfastening them together.

After the ground was harrowed it

was marked crossways with a markerand then the corn was planted with aplanter crossways of these marks. Oneman drove the team and another per-son sat in the middle of the planterpulling or pushing a lever to drop thecorn as they crossed each mark.The grain was hauled to Ottawa

with a team and wagon and shipped to

^^casfo by way of the Illinois andMichigan canal.The first years' crops were rather

[45]

WASHINGTONATRUEPATRIOT

.Ie_

disappointing, owing to lack of drain-age. Leaving the rest of his familyat home on the farm he and his oldestdaughter returned to Ottawa for twowinters to dig coal to make somemoney with which to tile the farm.In the spring of 1877 he began tiling

the land, hauling the tile from Day-ton, Illinois.

In the year of 1880 he bought an-other eighty acres of land whichjoined his on the west. This farm hadto be fenced. This was done by put-ting down posts and then stretchingsmooth wire on them. The barbswere put on this wire with pinchersas there was no barb wire in thosedays.

While Grandfather was doing thiswork outside, Grandmother and thegirls were doing their share inside andoutside. Grandmother spun the woolinto cloth and made the clothes. Theymade the garden, herded and milked

the cows and made the cream intobutter and cheese.Grandfather and Grandmother were

staunch members of the Catholicchurch, so they seldom, if ever, missedchurch. Those who were old enoughwere always allowed to go with eithermother or father and the other oneremained home to watch the smallerchildren and prepared the noondaymeal. Sometimes a lot of hardshipswere endured then, as their means oftraveling were very inconvenient.

Grandfather resided on this farmuntil his death in 1909.During the number of years they

lived a great many changes tookplace. When they first moved on thefarm they traveled by team and wag-on, then came the "Democrat buggy,"the double carriage, the phaeton, andlast of all the little old Ford.At first they cut the grain with the

cradle, then came the self rake andthe Marsh harvester. The self binderwhich followed this, used wire to tie

the bundles instead of twine. Thiswas found to kill the live stock thatate the straw after threshing and it

was replaced by twine.The grain was first threshed with

a flail. This was done by putting thegrain on the floor and beating it outwith a stick of wood. The straw wasthen shaken up with a fork to get thegrain out. The grain was taken outin the open air and poured from onevessel to another, allowing the windto blow the chaff from the grain.

Soon the threshing machines wereinvented. The machines were drivenby horse power and fed by hand. Oneman stood on top and cut the band,then handed it to another man tothrow in the feeder.

These machines were replaced byone driven by steam power. The two-horse walking plow was replaced bythe gang and sulky plows. The walk-ing cultivator by a riding plow, and^e hand drop corn planter by theBern's check rower.

OUR FIRST POST OFFICEBy Robert Phillips, Dist. 274.

Our early Mission township settlerslaid the foundation for the great pur-pose our American post office repre-sents today, although the first postoffice was nothing more than a mereliving-room in the home of SquireNeff. an old wounded Mexican warveteran.

Mr. Neff's home was located near

Mission Point, the home of mission-aries on Mission creek, now a farmowned by Lyle Bowen, formerlyowned by Francis Bowen. Also, thefirst cabin in the township was hereat Mission Point, which was soonburned down by the Indians beforemany of our forefathers had settled.

Mr. Neff's house was one of the

[46]

largest in those days, as mostof the distant homes werebut small log cabins. Therewere six rooms—a kitchen, aliving-room, a bedroom, a

pantry, and two or morerooms upstairs. They did nothave any more than onecloset in the house wherethey could keep their cloth-

ing.

The furniture was veryscarce. In one of the roomsa large carpet covered thesquare floor, while in theother rooms there were rudebenches and probably a table.

The chief room, where Mr.Neff had his small office, wasthe living-room, warmed by a largefireplace. This fireplace was made of

clay or bricks. They got the clay in

the Mission creek and made it into

bricks. The family of about fifteen

spent most of their time beside this

cheerful fireplace.

Squire, or "the justice of peace," ashe was known, usually sat by his un-polished four-legged desk. He seldomleft his desk or chair without need,for the reason that he was lame.There were no boxes in the office to

put the mail in except a few pigeon-holes on one side of the desk wherehe put some of the mail. They didn't

have to have many holes for the mailbecause they never received much.The postmaster never sorted his

mail during the daytime. He wouldsit at his desk and wait for callers.

When anyone came he would look fortheir mail and hand it to them.

It was much harder to bring mailin those days, therefore the peopledid not send much or receive so much,either. The few settlers received mailonly two or three times a week. Therewas never a large amount of mail be-

cause the cost on a letter or anypamphlet was not small.Although the mail did not come

regularly, the people, especially thechildren coming home from schoolnearby, were delighted to enter theNeff post office, where a homelike at-mosphere always prevailed, to ask fortheir mail. He was a very pleasantold gentleman and he was usually pre-pared for a lively and interesting con-versation, in which everyone was de-lighted.The nearby school, just mentioned,

was named Neff school in honor ofSquire Neff. When Mrs. FrankBowen, now a resident of Sheridan,was a little girl, she attended theNeff school. On her way home fromschool many times she would stop at

the Neff post office and get the mail.

She can vividly recall his pleasant, de-

voted and friendly manner.Our present post office shows a

marked advancement over the first

office, but still our forefathers andfriends love to tell about its begin-ning by Mr. Neff.

HEDGESBy Evelyn Pool, Dist. 245.

The hedges, used as fences, whichwe see on a few of the farms, did notgrow here naturally, but were plantedby the farmers many years ago.These trees or bushes formerly camefrom the land of the Osage Indians,which is now the state of Kansas. Thename of this hedge is the Osageorange tree, because it came from theOsage Indian land, and of its fruitwhich looks like the orange, but aremuch larger and are green. Thesefruits are not edible. The fruit of

[

the hedge is quite solid and also con-

tains a milky white, sticky substance,

which oozes out when the fruit is

bruised.

The hedge grows from twenty to

forty feet high and the branches are

covered with glossy green leaves

under which lie many long, sharpthorns. The roots of the hedge are a

bright orange and grow according tothe branches—if the branches arelarge the roots are very large. The

47]

sap of this tree is similar to the sub-stance which is in the fruit.

The farmers spent a great deal oftime planting and cultivating thesetrees. Many of the farmers kept thehedge cut back to a height of four orfive feet, trimming it every spring or

fall, making a very neat fence. Butas the men began to farm more landand it took their time, they could notdo this work. When Illinois became astock-raising state many of the farm-ers used wire fences. When some of

the hedge plants failed to grow, thebranches of others were bent downand woven in to close the gaps. Someof the hedge died and boards, wire orrailings were used to close the gaps.Later many of the other plants diedand most of the remaining hedge waspulled out, being replaced by our mod-ern wire fences. The hedge treeswere also pulled, as it hindered farm-ing, because it was a shade to thegrowing grain. When the cementroads were built, the roots of thehedge got in the way when grading.It took tractors or steam engines to

pull these plants or trees out, for theroots were very long and very strong.Some of the small branches were

trimmed off, leaving the tall, straightbranches, which were cut later andmade into fence posts. These postswere piled up and let stand for aboutone year until they were dried out orseasoned. The hedge post lasts manyyears longer than the common woodenpost. Some of the hedge posts whichhave been used have been taken uptwenty-five years later and were still

in good condition.Many miles of hedge in this vicinity

have been pulled in the last few years,and at the present time there are onlya few miles of hedge in Freedomtownship.

Small game, such as rabbits, pheas-ant and quail, use the hedge as shelterin severe winter weather, only leavingto get food.On cold winter weather I have seen

as many as thirty pheasants, severalgroups of quail and many rabbits in

the hedge which I pass on my way to

school.

THE FIRST MEETING-HOUSE IN MISSION TOWNSHIPBy Geraldine Risk, Dist. 274.

Mission township doubtless got its

name from the first mission estab-lished at the head of Mission creekby Rev. Jesse Walker, in 1826, whowas the first white settler.

When the early settlers came to

Mission township they had no place to

worship God. Many of the settlers

said they should build a church or ameeting-house.

In 1842 we find Elling Eielson put-ting up a meeting-house in Norway,Illinois, on the site of James Ingle's

residence. This meeting-house wasthe first house built by Norwegiansfor divine worship.

All of the country was strewn withtimber in those days, so the men justwent to the woods to get the material.When the trees were cut down theyhad to finish them off the best theycould with an ax.They were then hauled to the site

for the church and put into place.

The roof of the cabin was made ofthatch or straw. The cracks betweenthe logs and around the fireplace wereplastered with mud so as to make it

warmer.This church consisted of two rooms

with a fireplace in one end. The attic

was a sort of a hall, used for devo-tional meetings.

The building was paid for mainlyby Elling Eielson, who was the minis-ter at that time. He traveled aroundfrom place to place to preach. Theminister sometimes stayed in this

house.Thomas Orstad, deceased, from

Strand, Iowa, who attended servicesmany a time in this building for di-

vine worship, called it a "gatheringhouse," or in Norwegian, "Forsam-linghus." He said it was built of

white oak logs constructed in Nor-wegian fashion. It was twenty-fourfeet long, sixteen feet wide and twelvefeet high. The lower floor was fitted

for family use, and the upper storyfor church services. The shingles

used for roofing this building weresplit out of blocks of native wood.The seats in the assembly hall wereplanks of the same wood, resting onblocks of the same material. Therewere also a few small windows. Formany years this was a place wherethose gathered who had any desire to

hear the word of God.In the course of time, about 1848,

the congregation built a frame churchabout a mile from the meeting-house,and what became of Elling Eielson's

meeting-house is not known. Mr. Or-stad and other old residents visited

[48]

the spot where this famous edifice

stood on a hill near the present Nor-way, Illinois, but there was no trace

of it visible.

Elling Eielson was such a fine minis-ter that so many people came to his

small meeting-house that it grew to

be too crowded and a new church wasneeded. The lumber for this churchwas hauled from Chicago by oxen adistance of about seventy miles. It

took them several weeks to bring it

to Norway. Fyguessan was one set-

tler who helped build the church, andOliver Rosdial also devoted himselfto the great task of finishing the workon the inside and putting up the pul-

pit in the middle of the front of thechurch.

In place of pews, which we are ac-

customed to, there were chairs fast-

ened to the floor. These were placedalong the sides facing toward the cen-ter. A small gallery was built. Thechurch room was heated by a stove,

which was in the middle of the room.Church services were held here us-

ually every Sunday. Norwegian wasthe only language preached for sometime. In the absence of the ministerlaymen services were held (Clausen

being one of the first laymen). Awhile after its founding, the people,

both young and old, had the privilege

of attending Sunday-school. The first

Sunday-school teacher was HrmonOsmundson, father of O. H. Osmund-son, today a resident of Newark, Illi-

nois. The books used in Sunday-schoolwere similar to those of today:"Luther's Small Catechism," "Ex-planation," and the "Bible History."Although there was no organ or

piano in the church for a number ofyears, our forefathers enjoyed singingthe hymns from the song books, led

by Andrew Osmundson.For many years Rev. Eielson

preached in the church, which was theFox River church, and Mr. Rasmus-sen was the first minister; the reasonbeing that Mr. Rasmussen did not be-lieve in laymen, while Rev. Eielson did.

Today this old Norway church is

not used for divine services, but oc-

casionally the Ladies' Aid of the FoxRiver church meet there, and it is thecenter of other social gatherings. Thepeople of this congregation join in

giving thanks to Rev. Eielson for his

blessed and great service in Missiontownship.

IMMIGRANTS FROM CZECHOSLOVAKIABy Mike Berta, Dist. 50.

My father and mother were bothborn in Czechoslovakia, but not in thesame village.

When my mother was a child shehoed corn, because the people had nocorn plows; the whole family wentout to hoe corn and did not get homeuntil sundown.When my mother was old enough

to go to school she and the rest of herplaymates had to walk double-file

down the road when coming homefrom school; a boy acting as police-

man would walk along with them. Thechildren spoke to everyone they met.Any child that would get out of line

or whispered was reported to theschoolmaster. Then the schoolmasterwould give the child severe punish-ment. These schools had maps thathung on the wall, the children wouldlocate the chief cities of each country.When the farmers threshed, the

ladies' job was to take the straw fromunder the machine and put it on astack.At that time the farmers could not

afford to buy reapers. Instead, a gangof men went out and worked all day.The scythe laid the grass in line.

The people ate mashed potatoeswith sour milk. There were no gro-cery stores in the village. People hadcows, and raised potatoes.

Along the road were fruit trees,

which were guarded when the fruit

was ripe. It was picked and then sold

or shipped.When the boys had time they would

go into the woods. They would havea great time in the wild cherry trees,

strawberries and wild plum trees.

Most of the people raised their owntrees.

The houses were made of wood andstraw—the walls were made of woodand the roofs were made of straw,serving as the shingles of the Ameri-cans.

The people always tried to get ahome close to a creek, because thepeople wanted to wash their clothesin the creek or river.

My father started from Czechoslo-vakia by wagon and railroad. Thenhe went through Germany and waitedfor a ship to go to America. Whenhe was examined on Ellis island hehad to go back because of an infected

[49]

eye. He tried the second time andsucceeded in landing at New York.From New York City he went toPennsylvania. Then he came toStre.ator and got a job in five days atthe American Bottle Co.My mother came to America about

four years later. She, like my father,sailed from Germany, but in a cattle

ship. When she got off the ship at

New York City, she stepped on a train

that took her to Streator. No oneawaited her at the depot, so she wastaken to the city hall. My father metmy mother at the city hall and tookher to my aunt's house, where she

tasted her first banana.

IN OXEN DAYSBy Marion Mitchell, Dist. 162.

We of this generation little realizethe hardships and trials which ourforefathers underwent early in thenineteenth century. They spent muchtime clearing forests, which are nowfertile farm lands.

At this time the most popular ani-mal used as the beast of burden wasthe ox. The first oxen brought to LaSalle county were from New England,and were of the Devon breed. Theywere considered the best cattle forworking because they had more speedthan other oxen. They were slowerthan horses but had much morestrength. In summer they couldn'tstand much hot weather. They weremuch cheaper than horses and couldstand hard work better than horses.

The owner put the ox in the yokewhen they were about three years old.

The yoke was worn on top of the neck.Sometimes the oxen would turn in theyoke; that is, one would turn oneway and one the other way. Whenthis happened it usually led to a fight.

The only way to break them of this

h?bit was to tie their tails together.

In some parts of the country it wasnecessary to drain the land. Theydug ditches with three yoke of oxenhitched to a machine called thecapstan.

When full shod, each ox had towear eight shoes. While shoeing theox it had to be lifted entirely off theground, because it would not lift its

foot, as a horse will. Mr. H. C. Chap-man has a pair of old oxen shoeswhich he found on his farm manyyears ago. They do not look at all

like horse shoes. His father, Mr. H.W. Chapman, owned a pair of twinoxen in 1860. At night he put themin the pasture, and one of them wouldalways open the gate and get out. Hewould rub the bars of the gate ands^de them back so they would fall to

the ground, and then they would walkout. So finally Mr. Chapman had to putholes in the bars and put a pin in so

the oxen couldn't open them and getout.

In those days they used the oxen tohaul grain in sacks to Chicago. Asupply of provisions was brought backfor the neighborhood. These peoplewould pay this man with somethinghe needed. In this way one personwould help another. The trip to Chi-cago took from eight to ten days. Onthis trip they often got stuck in themud, because in those days the peo-ple didn't know what gravel or con-crete roads looked like. When theygot stuck they just waited until an-other driver came along and thenhitched his yoke of oxen to the load,

also. Sometimes they had three yokeof oxen on one load before they got it

out.

At one time of the year the neigh-borhood around where Mr. AmbroseTrumbo lived were out of salt, so Mr.Trumbo got up early one morningand hitched up a pair of wild oxenthat he broke to drive, and started forChicago. The next morning he camedriving down the road toward homewith the salt. He always said he wentto Chicago, but people didn't believethis because it is almost a hundredfifty-four miles the round trip. Suchspeed was unheard of in those days.One of the oldest settlers of our

township, Mr. Walter Stebbins, camewith his parents to La Salle countyin 1854. They drove five yoke of

oxen and two teams of horses, arriv-

ing at the homestead, now occupied byCharles Blackwell. They put in their

crops with these oxen, except oneyoke, which they sold to Mr. Eastman,who used them to break prairie sod onhis farm, now occupied by GeorgeBarber. In the fall of the same yearthey sold another yoke to Mr. PatrickMitchell, who lived in a log housewhere P. A. Oleson now lives. An-other yoke was sold to Mr. SteveMeagher, who lived on the farm nowowned by Edward Zimmerman.The oxen could be used in every

[50]

kind of farm work but plowing corn.

They would walk along and bite off

the corn.

Much oats and wheat was stackedin the early days. They left it

stacked until about the first of No-vember and then started to thresh. It

took them all winter to do their

threshing and husking. They didn't

use the oxen in husking because theywould eat too much of the corn.

What a great change has takenplace in the past seventy years. Howstrange it would look to us who see

modern machinery being used every-where.

In time the oxen were replaced bythe horses, and they are being fast

replaced by the tractor and all kinds

of modern machinery. These changescannot help but be a great help to

mankind, as much more work can be

done in a shorter length of time. I

wonder, though, if we, with all our

modern machinery, are any happier

than our forefathers were doing their

work in their simple way?

THE HAWLEYS OF VERMILLIONBy Irma Hawley, Dist. 89.

During April, in the year 1835,

great-grandfather Ezra Hawley andhis wife and two sons, Anson andTruman, started west from Benning-ton county, Vermont, in quest of a

new home. They made the long te-

dious trip in their covered wagon andsettled on eighty acres of land, name-ly, the east half of the southwestquarter, section twenty, township 32north, range two east, in Vermilliontownship, La Salle county, Illinois.

He later owned about four hundredacres of land in the same vicinity.

When they arrived here the coun-try was full of malaria, but they hadthe true pioneer spirit and were not to

be turned back. Prairie grass grewso high that a man on horsebackcould not be seen in many places.

The only way they made fences atfirst was with great chunks of sodpiled one upon another, for lack ofrocks. A little later they made rail

fences.At that time rattlesnakes were ex-

tremely large and plentiful. Whenplowing they used to kill a snakeevery few rounds.

After settling here four more sonswere born to them—Franklin, Myron,Arthur and Hiram. Myron, my grand-father, was born June 16, 1837. Ar-thur died of malaria when a youngman about twenty. Franklin died in

infancy.While they were still quite young

my great-grandmother would helpshear the sheep, then card and dyethe wrool. After washing it, she wouldthen get busy with her spinning-wheel. She made all the socks andmittens they wore from this wool andeven made some comforter tops withit.

When Myron was about ten yearsof age he was sent to Todd's mill at

Lowell on horseback for some medi-cine for his mother. While he wasgone a terrific snow storm came uponhim and he could not see the way. Hegave the faithful old nag the reinsand thought she would take care ofhim. After a while he discovered alight. Calling "Whoa!" to his horse,he yelled, "Hello! Anyone home?"The door opened, and imagine his

astonishment when he heard his fa-ther say, "What's wanted? Come in."

Myron and Hiram are both repre-sented with families now growing up.Sometimes as we sit and listen to

the times gone by it almost makes usfeel as if we'd like to spend a vacationback in the days of old.

While the beef was salted and hungup behind the stove to dry; the geeseand ducks were roasted and placed up-on the table beside some of great-grandmother's apple butter, or per-haps the apples were baked on ahearth, or when great-grandmothergot out her best dress, with its hoopsand bustle and little white collar, ormade some of her best cookies, be-cause company was coming, I believeI would have liked to have been hercompany.Great-grandmother brought with her

some asparagus roots and set out a

bed on the place where they settled,

and a small amount is still growingthere.

Fruit was not so plentiful as it is

now, though there were wild goose-berries, crab apples, wild grapes andwild plums. If. anyone found orraised a tree in those days, any friendthat came along was welcome to asprig to start one, too.

Another queer thing to us are a fewof the expressions used in those oldendays, such as "Tote the horse to

water," "Hang him up to hay," "The

[51]

HE WA5A NDBLELEADER

Yankee guessed," "The sucker reck-oned." One called it a "homely face,"the other an "ugly face." In answerto the old-time greetings one an-swered, "Quite well," the other "Noth-ing to complain of," or that he was"Quite pert," the last word was pro-nounced with a long "e." An extra

meal gotten up for company wascalled "chicken fixings," while the or-dinary meal was called "common do-in's." The Yankee "finished cultivat-ing his corn," while the western man"laid it away."

In 1837 they got about as much fortheir wheat as we do now, as wheatwent down to fifty cents, and no cashat that. Pork was one dollar per hun-dred, and corn was 10c. Furs, hides,tallow and skins were the only articlesthat would bring cash.

It is on record that Ezra Hawleywas a Democrat until the fugitiveslave law was passed in Illinois, afterwhich he declared that he would givehis support to the Whigs, and after-ward to the Republican party. He wasa member of the state militia in Ver-mont, and was an energetic and activeman up to the time of his last illness,

which was pleuro-pneumonia.Little did the pioneers realize how

much the future generations were go-ing to cherish the memory of theirmany experiences. Neither did theyknow that within a few score yearsthe trail of the covered wagon wouldbe retraced with automobiles and aero-planes; nor did they know that theywere laying so firm a foundation forLa Salle county, that it would at thisearly date, in many projects, be placedsecond to none.

AN OLD REVOLVER SPEAKSBy Eldon Worsley, Dist. 234.

Hello, everyone; it is I, an old capand ball revolver, speaking. I don'thave any adventures any more. All I

do is hang on the wall or lie in a trunk,day in and day out, year in and yearout.

But the time doesn't pass so slowlynow because another cap and ball re-volver has come to lie in the trunkwith me and we often discuss oldtimes.To begin with my private history, I

was made by the Manhattan FirearmsCompany, New York City, N. Y. ThenI was put in a box with many otherrevolvers like myself.We were then loaded on a boat that

sailed up the Hudson to Albany, wherewe journeyed to Buffalo on the Eriecanal. There we were put on a shipbound for the thriving frontier townof Chicago.The trip on Lake Erie was pleasant,

but on Lake Huron we encountered amost terriffic storm. We felt sure we

would be sent straight to the bottom,but we came safely through the storm,much to our relief. After that, noth-ing thrilling happened until we ar-rived at our destination.

After being in port for a day wewere taken from the hold of the ship

and set on the wharf. Here we heardmen talking and the banging of boxesas they were unloaded on the wharves.I heard men talking about the Illinois-

Michigan canal, and what a help to

commerce it would be when completed.One man said he had come all theway from Ireland to get a job on thecanal.

All at once the box we were in wasloaded onto a cart and we jolted overthe rough streets to a general mer-chandise store. Here we were un-loaded and unpacked. Some of uswere put in the show windows (I be-ing one).

After being there for some time, aman named John H. Worsley came in

[52]

and bought me. I was paidfor with wheat. He hadbrought in a load of wheat,as was the custom in thosedays, and traded it for pro-visions, money being veryhard to get.

The journey home was veryharsh, for there were manymarshes to cross. To goacross a marsh one had to

unload the wagon, drive it

across then wade back andcarry each thing separatelyto the wagon and reload.This had to be repeatedmany times; the journeyhome took about a week.When we reached home we

were heartily welcomed by the family.The girls didn't care much for me butthe boys liked me very much. Afterthat I made several more trips to Chi-cago with my owner. We never hap-pened to have any Indian encounters,however, much to my disappointment,for I longed to show my owner howwell I could perform.

In later years when the Indians hadbecome more friendly, they sometimesstopped at my owner's house. He al-

ways invited them in and treatedthem courteously. On one of these oc-casions it was very cold. An Indiancame in wearing scanty clothing. Myowner asked, "Aren't you cold?"The Indian then asked, "Your face

cold?""No," replied my owner."Indian allface," said the Indian.When Indians came riding by with

their red blankets and Indian ponies,grandmother would take me from myplace on the wall and lay me in a

convenient place until the Indians hadpassed far out of sight.

In the last years of my owner's life

my life became dull and uneventfulbecause he seldom carried me, exceptwhen he went to the timber to fix

fences. If he saw a rabbit he wouldtake me and shoot it.

At last I was not carried at all, butwas left hanging on a nail. When myowner died I was very sad, for we hadgone through many hardships to-

gether, and we knew what it was to

plow with oxen and use a plow thatwouldn't scour and drag brush overthe plowed ground to get it in shape,and to haul grain to Chicago.

I was then put in a trunk and let

lay for many years. One day abouta year ago the lid was lifted and I

heard a little boy say, "Oh Ralph,look! I've found an old cap and ball

revolver."I am now his proudest possession,

and he shows me to all his friends.

A BLIND MOLE DRAINBy Margaret Jean Boyd, Dist. 219.

Between seventy and eighty yearsago, when my great-grandfather whowas Alvah Bosworth Goodrich, movedonto the prairies where he chose afarm near what is now called south-ern boundary of Miller township,there were many sloughs, and beforethe land could be cultivated satisfac-torily it had to be drained.To overcome this great difficulty

they made the first drainage system,which was called the blind mole drain.This was the first method of drainageused on the land on which I am nowliving. This was one of the first

drains of this kind installed in this

vicinity. They were called this be-cause they were like underground tun-nels. The work on the drain that wasput in on this farm was done by twoScotchmen, who were brothers.The machine that was used to make

the drain was pointed at the head androunded on the top, leaving the bot-

tom flat. There was a handle to

which a chain was attached, one endbeing fastened to the handle and theother end to a capstan, which was al^rge spool-shaped instrument at-

tached to the machine. To give aclearer idea of its shape, it was onthe order of a flatiron.

[53]

Oxen were used to pull the ma-chine, and as they pulled, the chainwas wound around the capstan. Whenit was wound up to the end of its

length, it was released, the capstanmoved forward and the chain woundup again in the same manner. Thisprocess was repeated again and again.

When an object was struck, such as astone, it was removed with shovels.

These hindrances took considerabletime and made it a slow process.

This type of drainage proved satis-

factory for a time, but later it becameunsatisfactory because the sides cavedin and filled the cavity so that thewater could not drain from the land,

and they found a new way to drainthe soil. The new type of drainagewas called the open ditch drain.

This process of drainage was madeby plowing open ditches with special

ditching plows, which plowed a fur-

row and threw the dirt to both sides.

This kind of drainage soon became-unsatisfactory, also, and they beganusing a third process, because thewater washed away so much good,rich, soil, and washed the ditches

wider.

The third process was called the tile

drain, which proved the most satis-

factory of the three, because thewater was drained from the groundwithout losing good soil, and theycould cover the drain. Otherwisethey would have the expense of build-

ing a bridge, as they had to do withthe open ditch system.

This kind of drainage is still usedon this farm, having been completedin 1913 by a main ditch of tile rang-ing in diameter from sixteen inchesat the head, to thirty inches at theoutlet. The work was done by a con-tractor in the summer of 1913. Hefurnished labor and material for thework.

After the mole drain system wasput into use, a state law was passedwhich prevented the water from beingdrained onto the next man's land. This

made it so that drainage could not be

carried on unless a farmer could get

his neighbor's consent for an outlet.

My grandmother has lived on this

farm about seventy-three years andhas seen each of these processes of

drainage.

IMPROVEMENTS IN HARVESTINGBy Spencer Zimmerman, Dist. 162.

The cradle was the first instrumentused for cutting grain. This was aframework fastened to the scythe. Thegrain was delivered in a row back of

the cradle. One man did the bindingwhile another was behind the cradle

with a long-handled fork to gather it

into bunches. In an early day oneman could cut from two to four acresa day. One man, sometimes an In-

dian, would do the binding with adraw band taken from the bundle. Them^n that did the cradling would stopquite often and sharpen the blade witha whetstone. It was music to hearth° stone sharpen the scythe.The next improvement was a crude

machine that dropped the grain on aplatform. This reaper had a cutterbTr and a reel. The grain had to beraked off by an extra man with anold-fashioned woodtine fork. The nextmachine was known as a dropper,which was hinged to the sickle barand made of slats. When enough grainfell for a bundle on this platform, it

was slightly tipped upward, which wascontrolled by a foot lever. With this

machine the grain had to be bound asf-ist as it was cut. It took at least

ten to do the binding.

The next invention was the self-

rake and the Marsh harvester. Theself-rake had a cutter bar and a plat-

form to the back. The grain fell onthis platform and was raked off byfour rake arms. The principle wasthat each time a certain amount of

grain fell on this platform one of

these raker arms would shove it off in

a bundle, and of course, had to bepicked ur> and bound by hand.The Marsh harvester came about

thp. same time as the self-rake did.

Tf h-^d a platform on which two menstood and did the binding and threwtb° bundles off.

The next great improvement wasthe self-binder, which two to fourhorses could null. This binder usedwire to tie the bundles with. Thism°rhine did good work so far as thebinding was concerned, but the wirewas dangerous in the straw when it

was used as feed. But twine wassoon introduced and is still used to tie

rhq bundles. This great binder at-

tracted a great number of people whowere interested in seeing the first ma-chine that would make and tie abundle of grain. There was no bundlecarrier on this machine. The first

[54]

binder cut and bound several hundredacres the first year.About forty years ago they started

using, or rather invented, the bundlecarrier. This enables the operator ofthe machine to carry the bundles anddrop them into what is known asshock rows. This was really the last

improvement of the present day reap-ers. After the bundle carrier wasmade, a shocker was invented but didnot prove a success.The first binders were four and six

feet width of cut. They have gradu-ally been made larger, in sizes sevenand eight feet. About five years agothe first ten-foot power binder wasmade. This binder could only be run

by tractors. The advantage of thispower-driven harvester is becauseit does not depend on the bullwheelto supply the power. Under someconditions, especially in a wet season,the bullwheel, or the wheel that doesthe driving of the binder, will some-times slip, hence the binder will notwork.And now for the last. A machine

is in use today which cuts and threshesthe grain in the field. The grain is

elevated into a tank on top of thecombine until a truck or wagon comesto haul the grain away.We may see the time when the

loaves of bread will be made in thefield.

AN EARLY CHURCHBy Elizabeth Kavinsky, Dist. 57.

The oldest church in Otter Creektownship was built in 1872. It wascalled "Otterbein Chapel." The earlysettlers felt there was something moreimportant in life than tilling the soil.

They felt a great need for a spiritual

life. There were probably ten or

twelve families who organized it. Thischurch was known as the "UnitedBrethern Church in Christ." Theyheld their first meetings in what wasknown as the Strawn schoolhouse. Ina short time their congregation grewtill they realized the need of a largerbuilding, which was the above men-tioned church, built in 1872. It wasbuilt on the corner a half a mile southand a mile east of Kernan. It wasbuilt on the corner of a farm ownedby Mr. Engle, who donated the groundfor the church as long as it was usedfor church purposes, but if it ceasedto be used for that purpose the landwas to go back to his estate.

In those early days the roads werea mere trail. The presiding ministerlived several miles from the church.Sometimes the weather made it im-possible for him to reach his church.It was said that a farmer by the nameof Strawn filled the pulpit on daysthat is was impossible for the minis-ter to get there. At communion serv-ice they used two glasses, one for themen and one for the women. Some ofthe women objected to drinking afterthe men because most of the menchewed tobacco.

Things ran along smoothly in thechurch for a great many years untilthe question of secrecy arose, whichdivided the church into two factionsknown as the Radicals and Liberals.

The Radicals won the dispute and thenthe officials decided to change the lo-

cation and it was moved to the little

village of Kernan, in about 1895.At the passing of the older mem-

bers the congregation dwindled, notleaving a sufficient number to main-tain the church, which was badly in

need of repairs. It was painted, re-paired and was used as a church fora number of years afterward, but dueto the number of automobiles thatwere in use about that time, peoplebecame interested in the churches in

the cities, thus neglecting the little

village church.The people realized the need of a

community hall. During this periodthere was a community club organizedand were holding their meetings in

the town hall. The club had used thishall for sometime; finally outgrowingthe town hall, a committee was ap-pointed to confer with the church trus-tees to consider the purchase of theold building for a community hall.ThQ church was purchased for themagnificent sum of three thousand,eight hundred fifty dollars. Amongthe alterations that were made werea large dining-room and kitchen in thebasement. A stage was also built atone end of the building, with dressingrooms on either side. On the otherend of the building an office and aFour-H club room was establishedthus converting the church into acommunity hall.

Before it was dedicated as a boosterhall, the M. Funk family had the mis-fortune of losing their oldest son, whodied in Chicago. His funeral serviceswere conducted in this hall.

[55]

The first president of the boosterbuilding was Robert Dougherty, andthe first treasurer was Neil Horn.The hall was used by the community

boosters and the school graduation of

Otter Creek township until the spring

of 1931, when it was completely de-

stroyed by fire.

A new building was planned andbuilt as soon as it was possible. It

is not thoroughly' constructed, andwon't be until more money can be ap-

propriated. Many necessities for theinterior of the building are minus.The carpenter contract was in

charge of N. C. Lantzer and the ma-son work was in care of W. G. Borg-lin. The concrete work was done byhome talent donations, and the day-work principally by Charles Wilson.The painting that is completed wasdone by Charles Wilson and Link Pool.

Expenditures up to date are |6,000.

The first meeting was held in the

new hall May 3, 1932.

GEORGE BAZORE, A PIONEERBy Albert Kollar, Dist. 42

Bruce township 31, range 3, lies

northeast of the Vermilion river. Ac-cording to the survey, Bruce townshipwould extend across the river to thesouth, but the people said the expenseof building bridges across the river

would be far more than the land wasworth so they let the river be theboundary line.

Part of the township, especially

along the Vermilion, Otter and Prairie

creeks, was a dense timber of goodquality and attracted the woodlandsettlers to this place. There was also

a level prairie here, too, and it had a

vein of coal from six to nine feet be-

neath it.

During the year of 1831 the settle-

ment began. George Bazore, who wasborn in Virginia, was one of the first

to move West. He first bought a farmin Indiana. Later he moved from In-

diana into Illinois and settled in Brucetownship.

Mr. Bazore was a strong, durableman and well fitted for the frontier

life. He served as a carpenter, black-

smith, mechanic and a successfulfarmer.He first built the cabin in which

they used to live. Then he began to

plow the prairie. The plow he usedwas a big, clumsy thing. The beamon it was from eight to twelve feet

long and was framed into an axel, oneach end of which was a wheel, sawedfrom an oak log. This held the plowupright. This pioneer plow was aheavy, unwieldy apparatus and waspulled by a team of from six to eightoxen, and made a furrow about twofeet wide. The sod, when plowed at

the right time, was mellow and readyfor use in about three months, but if

plowed too late or too early it wouldrake about three years to rot. Mr.Bazore was successful in getting his

prairie land worked the first year, andthe first crop planted was corn. He

[

used an axe to make a hole. He putin the seed then and closed the hole

with the back of the axe. The corngrew well in the sunlight, but in theshade it would produce only a partial

crop. In the fall he turned the sodso it would be ready to plant his cropsin the spring.He and his family did all of their

manufacturing at home. They madetheir clothes from the hides, wool, andflax that they raised. He also madehis sugar and molasses from the sapof the maple trees which grew on his

farm. He had large swarms of beesand he got all of his supply of honeyfrom them. In these ways he sup-plied all of his own wants and wasvery generous with the few pioneers

that were scattered about the country.

He had a large herd of cattle andsheep. From the sheep's wool theymade their clothing, and from

<

the

cattle they got their meat and hides.

These were very useful, for he madeall of his harness, shoes, boots andother things from the hides.

The blacksmith shop he owned wasfairly equipped with tools for black-

smith work. He did the work for him-self and the few pioneers around him.

At the time of the Black Hawk warhe was the only settler on record whowas living in Bruce township.

Mr. Bazore was more independentthan most pioneer people, for he wasskilled in so many different kinds of

labor. He chose for his second wife

the widow of John Woods, and theylived happily on his farm till his

death in 1860.

Our farm is a part of the Bazore

estate, and it has a nine-foot vein of

coal beneath it. We farm the land in

summer and dig coal in winter. It al-

so has a large timber on it, and is

located on the northern bank of the

Vermillion river.

56]

TALES OF PIONEER DAYSBy Irene Atwood, Dist. 95.

One of my chief pleasures in early

childhood was to listen to stories that

my grandfather told of when he lived

in a log cabin which was located near

the Vermillion river in Farm Ridge

township.

His parents, John and Jane Craw-ford, who were Scotch-Irish, camefrom Donegal County in the Donegalmountains of northern Ireland. Theycame directly to La Salle county. Thefamily consisted of the parents andan infant daughter Anna. They wereattended by an Irish nursemaid whoput the fire-tongs in the baby's cradle

to keep the fairies away.

On arriving in Ottawa his fatherhired a team to carry them to thethe farm, which was to become their

future home. At that time a squatterwas living on the land. He had built

a log cabin and a log barn on the land.

His father bought the squatter's in-

terests in the land and became pos-sessor of the house, barn, stock, fur-niture and food, including the pans ofmilk on the pantry shelf. In short,

they bought everything but the squat-ter's personal belongings, and thesethe man packed and went away.

A vacant brick house stood on asand hill about two miles from theriver. His parents moved into this

house in the winter time because it

was much warmer than the otherhouse. In the spring they would moveback again to their own property. InMarch, 1853, my grandfather wasborn. He was named George. Onemonth later they moved again to thelog cabin.

One of his earliest recollections ofhis father's hunting was when hebrought a deer home on his back. It

was so large that it had to be hungon the rafters for future use.

When he was six years old hestarted to school in the school whichis now the Crawford school. It is

sometimes called the Farm Ridgeschool because it is near the FarmRidge Episcopal church.While he was quite a small boy one

of his evening chores was to bringhome the cows which were pasturedin the timber across the river. Theywere located by the sound of a cow-bell which was on the lead cow. Onelate fall evening when the cows hadwandered farther than usual and werequite a ways from the river it beganto grow very dark. By the time it

had grown so dark he could hardlysee he had found the cows and startedthem home. A wolf on a distant hill

began to howl. One after another thewolves lifted their voices in the still

nig-ht. Being only a small boy he wasquite frightened. But he succeededin getting home before the wolvescame very close.

Another incident he told of was theexciting adventure which one of theirneighbors had. He was spearing fish

through a hole in the ice on the river.

His only light and weapon was alighted pine torch. Having caught afine string of fish for his supper hestarted for home. Before he had gonefar a pack of hungry wolves, smellingfresh fish, started after him. He knewthey smelled fish, so he threw themone. While they were fighting overthat he would run for the nearesthouse, which was where my grand-father lived.

His father died when he was thir-

teen years of age. He being the old-

est son was left as chief assistant onthe farm.

A FOUR-ROW HAND PLANTERBy Lucille Sheedy, Dist. 115.

Planting corn many years ago wasa very slow and tedious task. To pre-pare the soil at the time when thefour-row planter was used, the farmerplowed the ground with a walkingplow. This had one steel blade whichoverturned the soil. It also had twowooden handles, which were curvedat the ends, for the men had to havea grip on these wooden handles in

order to control the plow. Usually thereins were tied in a knot to form a

loop. This loop was slipped over theirhead. When they came to the end ofthe row they lifted up the plow bythe handles and turned it around, set-

ting it in a different position so thata new furrow could be plowed. Thisplow is still used today, althoughmost prosperous and successful farm-ers have gang plows, which have morethan one share and are drawn byhorses or a tractor.

After the plowing was done the

[57]

ground was harrowed with a tool

made of heavy timber. It was con-structed in v shape. From the v-shaped form of the harrow were fast-

ened other pieces of heavy timberwith wooden or iron pegs throughthem. Generally they were made of

the latter material. The side timbersalso had pegs. These pegs broke upthe lumps in the plowed ground, simi-

lar to the work of a drag. This har-row was pulled across the field by twohorses.

After using the harrow on the soil,

the land was marked out for planting.Four two-by-eights, made of wood oriron, placed from three to three andone-half feet apart, were joined to-

gether. This was pulled across thefield, creating small grooves as it

went. After completing this one waythe farmer crossed the field the otherway, making intersections. When this

was done the tiller was ready to plantthe corn in the rows as they weremarked.A farmer who resided near our

county years ago used a home-madefour-row corn planter on his farm andalso those of his neighbors who lived

in La Salle county. He now lives nearFrankfort, Illinois. It was made out

of light wood, thought to be hickory.This apparatus was about nine to tenand one-half feet across the top, withfour troughs, which curved at the top,

leading downwards to the ground. Tomake the troughs the center of thehickory boughs were carved out. Thiscarving was done very smoothly in

order that the kernels would easily

slide down. On the top of the cross-member connecting the four feederswas a box in which the seed corn wasplaced. Near the container which heldthe corn there was a lever that thetiller operated when he did his plant-ing. Fastened to the cross boughwas a leather strap, used to carry it.

When planting days came and theground was prepared, this farmer tookout his planter. He filled his seed boxwith corn. Placing the planter in

front of him he put the/ strap aroundhis neck. This left the farmers' handsfree so that he could operate the lever.

The four troughs were set down wherethe intersections were. The tiller

worked the lever, and the corn wasforced down the troughs to theground. His planter was set againand again, until the corn was planted.A man followed behind and coveredthe kernels of corn with a hoe.

THE WHITE MAN'S FRIENDBy Eliza Kerns, Dist. 265.

Shabbona, who was the son of a

chief, had a life filled with sorrow anddisappointment in trying to be friend-ly to the white man and at the sametime leading the Indians in the rightway. His father was an Ottawa warchief, and Shabbona married thedaughter of the Pottowatomie chief.

He was born in 1775 or 1776, on theKankakee river, near where Joliet is

now. When still a boy he moved to

Canada. He returned later to theKankakee river. He lived to be 84years old.

Shabbona did good throughout his

whole life. He helped both Indiansand white men. He had a hard timecoaxing the Indians not to start warwith the settlers.

During the War of 1812 he joinedthe British against the Americans, butonly because he was told that all of

the other Indians along the river hadjoined also. This was not the truth,

out Shabbona didn't know it. BlackHawk stopped fighting because he did

no1 like to fight where there was agreat a chance of getting killed.

The Indian boundary line marked

where La Salle county was, west ofthe Illinois river to the Mississippi,from the mouth of the Rock river to

the Illinois, also a tract of land south-west of Chicago.A man named John Kinzie, who was

a trader, had a store at Chicago. Hewas saved by Shabbona when he wastaking goods to his store. Whilecrossing the rapids at Starved Rock,a half-breed named George Forque,inquired where they were going andwhat they had with them. He gavethe information to Mason and tenother Indians as murderous as Mason.Their plan was to steal the goodsafter attacking and killing the men.Forque wanted to steal the goods

but he opposed the murdering part.

He rode, to Shabbona on his pony andtold him the plans. Shabbona waitedwith his Indians behind trees until

Mason with his Indians arrived. Hefrightened them and they went back.He left some Indians to guard themwhile Kinzie was in Chicago. Kinzieknew nothing about this, but after hewas dead, Shabbona told his son aboutit.

[58]

Black Hawk tried to get the Indiansto drive the white settlers out of thecountry, but Shabbona knew it wasuseless. Black Hawk went from vil-

lage to village trying to get a large

band of Indians to help him.Shabbona went from village to vil-

lage, trying to get them to see howuseless it was. Black Hawk gainednothing by trying to get Shabbona in-

to the war.Shabbona was given land by the

government in DeKalb county onwhich he made his home. When his

tribe was sent across the Mississippi

he sold all of his land but the cornland, which he rented. He saved agrove, where his sons were buried.

On returning to collect the rent hefound that it had been sold for $1.25

per acre. This saddened him so muchthat his feeble limbs shook.

He took his family to Morris, wherethe people were very kind. Some landwas given to them, and the womengave a dance to raise enough moneyto build a house on the land. Thewomen lined up and Shabbona was tochoose the most beautiful. He chosehis four-hundred-pound wife. In thisway there was no hard feelings. Theynever lived in the house, but theirchildren did. They lived in their wig-wam beside a brook near the house.ov»°bbona died two years after thedance.

Shabbona Park has been made in

memory of Shabbona's services duringthe Black Hawk war, when he warnedand almost made the settlers leavetheir homes for the safety of theirwives and children, because of themurderous Indians who were tryingto drive them out of the country.

BREVOORT'S EARLY HOMEBy Lyle Hess, Dist. 19

In a little one-room log cabin southof Bennington Grove, in the winter of1859-1860, sat three people. The fa-

ther (Mr. D. Brevoort) was peggingaway at some shoes. He had been to

Lacon the first of the week to buyleather with which to work. He hadto hurry for he had orders for twopairs of shoes. The neighbor andhis wife had been over the night pre-vious and had been measured. Thelady wanted a pair of cowhide lace

shoes, for they were cheaper, butcoarser. However, she said she hopedto be able to order a pair of calfskinby summer, since they were of a finer

material, but much more expensive.Her husband, as all men did, orderedjust a simple pair of boots, andplanned on them lasting a year. Suchorders kept the father very busy, butthis pleased him very much since themaking of shoes was his trade. It

was very essential in those times tohave a trade.The mother was advising her son

John Henry to hurry up and finish his

borrowed reader, for night was fall-

ing and she had no candles to bewasted. It seemed to John Henrythat they were at the present wellsupplied, for on Monday he and his

parents had spent much time in mak-ing candles. Candle making was in-

teresting at times. Having no cattle

or stock of any kind themselves. Johnand his father walked two miles toa neighbor and obtained some tallow.

For this, John's father bargained to

make boots for the husband of thefamily in two weeks' time. Theneighbor killed a beef often, both forthe meat and the tallow.Upon arriving home John and his

mother placed the tallow in a largeiron kettle and put it on their onelittle stove to melt. In the meantimeJohn's mother got out the twelve inchmolds and strung the wicks in the cen-ter of them. The tallow was soonmelted and poured in the molds toharden. The candles were set in acorner, and since the little old cabinwas indeed very airy, the candles weresoon ready.The following week John's mother

would be very busy she informed John,for she had an order for a suit ofclothes. Being a skilled tailoress herorders were many. Mr. Brevoortmust go to Lacon on horseback andbuy the material. John and his moth-er never went to the village. It wasfather's place to do all the shopping.

Night came, and having no stockmeant no chores, so father peggedaway by the use of a candle. ButJohn had nothing to do but climb theladder to the loft and go to bed. Firsthe must brush off the snow, for it hadbeen a "blizzardy" day. Soon he wasfast asleen and slept soundly untilearly morning. Again he shook off

the snow and descended his ladder, tofind mother and father already atwork.

Spring arrived, bringing the daythat the soap must be made. But

[59]

TAKING THE OATH

WASHINGTONOUR FIRST

PRESIDENT7fW/l D,yj,,

first, water had to run through thebin of wood ashes that they had socarefully piled there. When this wa-ter had run slowly through the ashesit was very valuable and carried outto the large kettle, where fats wereadded and some water. It was al-

lowed to cook over an open fire. Byevening the soap was cooked andready to cool. The next day it wascut and used in washing and bathing.Summer finally came, and brought

John's uncle. He was a great "bee"man. He put some honey on a stumpin the woods and waited until the beescame along. They flew to the honeyand ate of it until they were full.

Then they flew back to their hive,

which was a hollow tree. The unclefollowed them back to their hiveand got the tree spotted. Then hecut the tree. They got two bushelsof honey. But he had to build a fire

to smoke the bees. They took thehoney to John's house, very proud oftheir find.

John's father and mother were quietand always busy, but his uncle wasactive and full of life, so John waswith his uncle most of the time. Onetime they went to a barn dance. Hedid not dance, but he enjoyed watch-ing the others, and especially seeingthe fiddler who furnished the dancemusic. Everyone was happy at thedance. The men tucked their trous-ers down inside of their boots for suchoccasions. The ladies wore heavydresses made very full.

The teacher in those days had ahard time "boarding around." Sheboarded at one house for a week andthen she would go to another. Thepeople did not like for her to comebecause they had to have the housefixed up just so. So they were gladwhen she went. The teacher had ahard time bundling up her clothesevery time she moved, and gettingused to so many different beds. Theyhad six months school in those days,but John didn't get to attend. Hisparents didn't encourage education.At the age of eighteen, however, heattended school, acting as janitor topay his expenses.

Though this youth of 1859 wasrobbed of the privileges and pleasureswe now enjoy, he is regarded as oneof the most successful men, both fi-

nancially and morally, that the yearof 1932 possesses.

APPLE BUTTER TIMEBy Virginia Anne Esmond, Dist. 142.

There was great excitement in thehouse. Tomorrow was to be the greatboiling down of the apples to makeapple butter at my Great-grandmotherFurr's home.

This house was about half a milewest of Dayton. The relatives were tocome in the morning and stay all dayto help. The men were out in the or-chard getting apples' to use. Romanyapples were the kind used. Theywere excellent for eating and cooking.When stored in barrels in the base-ment they lasted till the next summer.Some of the smaller cousins werehelping pick up apples, too. Some of

the windfalls were used in makingcider in great-grandmother's ciderpresses. She had two of them.

People used to come from milesaround with wagon loads of apples to

be made into cider. In later yearswhen the grist mill at Dayton groundapples and pressed out the juice forcider the people used to take theirapples over there and have themground. Eventually my great-grand-mother did, too.

The best apples on the ground wereused to make apple butter. The cider

was made and boiled down. Thestirrers, which are long wooden pad-

[60]

dies with handles set in themat right angles, long enoughto keep the person stirringfrom getting too hot, weremade from the wood of a

large maple tree that hadbeen injured when the crib

burned down.Early the next morning the

boys were in the orchardpicking up more apples.Somebody had to go to

town to get the relatives thatwere to help. When they ar-rived they exchanged greet-ings, as they hadn't seen eachother probably for quite awhile. They set to workwashing apples. After theywere washed, the young folks peeledthem with two peelers. The youngpeople thought it quite a bit of fun toturn the crank on the peelers, but thenovelty wore off before the appleswere all peeled. The older folks satdown and cored the peeled apples.Some cider was put in the boilers

to keep the apples from burning. Assoon as the apples were peeled andcored they were popped into the boil-

ers. They kept on boiling down. Assoon as the boilers were filled enoughso that they wouldn't boil down muchmore, the young folks went out in thepasture to catch old "Dexter." Thecity cousins considered riding old"Dexter" much fun, even if he was adriving horse instead of a ridinghorse. Two or three of the youngfolks got on the horse at once.Much of the time was spent also by

the young people in rambling over thefarm and sometimes sliding down thestrawstacks. Also amusement could

Washingtonthe

TruePatriot

be found in the barn, both in the hayloft and in where the animals were.The men worked in the fields after

carrying in apples by the basketful.Each one of the younger folks tookhis turn stirring the boiling apples.The women had a sociable time pre-

paring dinner. The relatives stayedto supper that the women had pre-pared. After supper the visitors us-ually went home and the women atgrandmother's finished the work.They took the apple butter off the

stove at about nine o'clock. Then it

had to be put in crockery jars aboutten inches high. A cork fitted intothe top that was about half an inchthick. This was sealed with sealingwax. A few days later the butter wasdivided and each family took somehome. Everyone that had helpedmake the apple butter could be re-

minded of a pleasant day at GrandmaFurr's whenever they tasted of thebutter.

MRS. CATHERINE GEPHARD-FAHLERBy Melva Frank, Dist. 233.

This is a story as told to me by Mrs.Fahler. It is the experience of herown life.

She was born in Lebanon county,Pennsylvania. She came here when alittle girl five years old; she is noweighty-seven years old. Mrs. Fahlercame to Troy Grove township in 1850with her parents, also a number ofothers, who were the Klinefelters, theGephards, the Meyers and the Fahlers.They came part way by wagons

and then on a steamboat from Pitts-burgh to La Salle. It was their first

ride on a steamboat and thought it awonderful way of traveling. The rest

of the way was traveled by ox teams.They settled a short distance north of

Troy Grove, then known as Homer.Their first home was a log house, as

were all other homes at that time.There were no Indians here, but therewere several newly built Indian huts.One hut was on the farm owned byMrs. Fahler's father. Whenever thechildren were disobedient their parentswould threaten to send them down tothe Indian hut. The children wouldgladly obey their parents, becausethey were afraid the Indians wouldcome back and get them.

There were no schoolhouses near by

[61]

at that time. The first school Mrs.Fahler attended was taught by aneighbor woman. It was kept in thiswoman's home. The log house in

which it was taught was then locatedon the farm where Charles Klinefelternow lives. There were no desks.Some of the children sat on the lady'sbed. All those who could not sit onthe bed sat on little benches withoutany backs. The children's backswould get very tired. The first realschool that she can remember of wasbuilt where the schoolhouse known asthe No. 6 school now stands.When they first lived here there

were no churches nor ministers. Buteach Sunday they gathered at one ofthe homes. They would study theBible and teach the children Bible les-sons and hold prayer meetings. Atfirst the people were very homesick.There were no amusements. The onlytime they got togteher was when theyheld their services. After she becamea young lady they held spelling bees.When they came here her mother

brought her spinning-wheel with her.Many of their garments were madeof the home-spun material. For lightsthey made their own tallow candles.The lanterns were made by placing acandle in a tin with holes cut in it toallow the light to shine through.Those days everyone had to help in

the fields as they did not have anymodern farming tools. Farming inthose days was very hard work. Theirplows were just an ordinary walkingplow. All of the hay was cut withscythes and raked up with hand rakes.The small grain was cut with a handtool they called a cradle, and it wasthreshed with a flail. They had their

wheat ground into flour. The millwas located somewhere between Otta-wa and Troy Grove. They took thewheat one day and returned home thenext day. Some of their productswere taken to Chicago by team andwagon, and needed supplies werebrought back; others were hauled toLa Salle. There was one store at TroyGrove where some supplies could bebought.

There was no city of Mendota wherethe city now stands; there was noth-ing but swamps. The swamps wereinfested with mosquitoes. The peoplehad to build smudge fires to protectthemselves. The land was then being offered for one dollar and twenty-five cents an acre. The people didnot want to buy the land because it

was so swampy. But after it was tiled

it made wonderful farm land.There were no railroads then. The

first railroad was the Illinois Central.It was put through about the yearsof 1852 "to 1853. After the railroadwas built, Mendota was built up andsoon became a thriving town. Therailroads helped others to come hereto settle. It was a great help to thepeople not to have to haul their grainso far and to have supplies brought in.

The first cemetery laid out wasnorth of Levi Kreiser's home. Thebodies were later removed to the pres-ent cemetery, which is in the village

of Troy Grove.Mrs. Fahler has lived through many

changes, such as from tallow candlesto electric lights, and from ox teamsto aeroplanes. Inventions, that are

truly wonderful, which seventy yearsago they would have thought impos-sible.

THE NAMING OF WALTHAMBy Ralph Bradford, Dist. 184.

Steven A. Jones, the man whonamed Waltham township, was an en-gineer of Waltham, Massachusetts,but took the western fever. In thespring of 1837 he went to Boston, thengoino- by way of the Erie canal andthe Great Lakes, he and his two part-ners reached Chicago. The Illinoisand Michigan canal not being finishedthey came by land to the mouth ofthe Vermillion river, where they hewedlogs until the spring of 1838. Theythen moved to what is now known asWaltham township, eight miles northof the canal. The reason of comingso far away from the canal was thatthe land on each side belonged to the

state, which was selling for S2.50 peracre. The land where they settled

belonged to the government and could

be bought for $1.25 per acre.

After building a sod house it wastime to plant the crops. Corn andbeans being their first crop, wereplanted by using a hatchet for cutting

a hole in the soil so the seeds could be

dropped in. That fall three bushels

of beans were harvested.Plentv of wild game was found, but

pork was wanted. Mr. Jones decided

to go to his nearest neighbor, TrumanHardey, who lived about seven miles

south, to get some pork.

"My hogs will not be fat until No-

[62]

vember some time. I will send myboy up and tell you when I havebutchered," said Mr. Hardey.The evening before Thanksgiving

the boy came riding up on a horse andsaid, "We butchered eighteen hogs,weighing two hundred pounds eachwhen dressed, today."

Thanksgiving morning Mr. Jonesyoked up his oxen to the ox-cart andwent after the pork. It being Thanks-giving, he stayed for dinner, havingpork, corn bread and beans, which Mr.Jones thought was the best dinner hehad ever eaten."How much do you want for two of

those hogs?" said Mr. Jones after eat-ing his dinner."They are worth a half cent a pound

dressed, in Peru. But do you thinkthat I would be mean enough to

charge a neighbor for two little

pigs?" said Mr. Hardey.Mr. Jones took the meat home that

evening. He later took Mr. Hardeydown a half bushel of beans, withwhich he was well pleased.

Mr. Jones took a load of wheat toChicago for which he received 37c per

bushel. When he came back he foundthe sod house occupied by a man,woman and three children. Therehad been a cholera scare in Peru,which caused families to leave thecity to get away from the disease.The man was willing to work, butMr. Jones not having anything forhim to do let him stay, although hehad to sleep in the cattle pen to makeroom for the woman and children.

Mr. Jones now wanting a betterhouse on his farm, went to the tim-ber and whip-sawed some boards tobuild himself a wooden house.When the country became more

populated, a township was formed.Mr. Jones named it Waltham, afterWaltham, Massachusetts. For fortyyears thereafter he was the townclerk.

C. S. Jones now owns the farm ofhis father, which now contains mod-ern buildings and is farmed withpower machinery. Beef cattle arealso fed here almost every winter.The house now on this farm is a fewrods northwest of where the sod housestood.

THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAYBy Marshall Krug, Dist. 246.

The first slaves were brought to

Illinois in 1719 by Mr. Renault, of

France, who brought with him besidesthe slaves, two hundred laborers andminers. On the way across the oceanhe stopped at San Domingo, wherehe purchased five hundred slaves. Hecame because he wanted to find goldand silver. After twenty years ofsearching he sold his slaves to theFrench settlers and went back to

France.Although the people had their

slaves, the Ordinance of 1787 forbadeslavery. When the people heard thisthey started to leave the state. Gov-ernor St. Clair, the first governor, toldthem the ordinance meant they couldkeen the slaves they had, but theycould not buy any more. Yet, thepeople wanted more slaves. Finallythey thought of a plan to evade thelaw. They said they would bringthem in as indentured seravnts. In1805 and 1807 congress passed theBlack Laws, which were laws deter-mining the terms of service of a slave.Any male under fifteen years of agewould have to serve until thirty-fiveyears of age; and females until thirtyyears of age. Children born to per-sons of color should serve—boys for

thirty years and girls for twenty-eightyears.

In 1822 the time seemed ripe to de-

cide whether Illinois should be a freestate or a slave state. Governor Coleswas against slavery. When the peo-ple voted whether it should be a free

state or not the anti-slavery peoplewon by a few votes. They votedagain, but the anti-slavery peoplewere still in the lead. In 1824 it wasdecided that Illinois should remain afree state.

Before the Civil war, in the 30's and40's, the people were making speechesfor and against slavery. Most of theanti-slavery people lived in the North,while most of the pro-slavery peoplelived in the South. The northern mendid all they could against slavery,while the southern men did all theycould for slavery.

If a slave ran away from his masterand got to Canada before his mastercaught him, he was considered a free

man. After a number of slaves hadstarted doing this the anti-slavery

people began to help them by hidingthem through the day and takingthem north in the night. As soon as

the slave owners could not find their

[63]

slaves they said the northmen musthave an underground railway.

There were two slave routes pass-ing through Harding. One came fromTroy Grove; another route came fromOttawa, north through Harding.Samuel Cody, who lived one mile

east and three-quarters mile south of

Harding, helped in taking the slavesalong the slave routes northward. Hehad a man bring the slaves to hishouse. He would hide them throughthe day and the next night take themon to Leland.

Mr. Hubbard, who lived one-quartermile south of Harding, where WallacePool now lives, also helped in takingslaves on the slave routes. He wouldhide them through the day and thenext night take them on north. Heused his barn to hide them in duringthe day.

Mr. Batchelder, who lived one-halfmile north of Harding, helped take

slaves to the next station. Mr. Batch-elder was a tall, heavy-set and sturdyman.' One night he had a large slaveto be gotten to the next station. Theslave owners were about the housewaiting for a chance to capture theslave. To give the men a betterchance to get the slave to the nextstation, Mr. Batchelder blackened hisface and started out over the corn-field, with the slave owners after him.The slave owners chased after him,thinking it was the slave. While theslave owners were chasing Batchelderthe northmen took the slave on north.The slave owners were angry whenthey found it was Batchelder and notthe slave they were after. The own-ers had to go away without theirslaves.

I am proud that I live in Freedomtownship because it was one of thetownships against slavery. Don't youthink I have a right to be?

A CENTURY AGOBy Francis McGrath, Dist. 191

On the second of November, 1829,John Green and a number of others,with their families, left Newark,Licking county, Ohio, for what is nowLa Salle county. The outfit consistedof one four-yoke ox team, three two-horse wagons, and one carriage. Thestreams were high and the roads werealmost impassable. In some placesthey had to cut their way throughbrush, and the roads were very bumpy.In one place a man holding a childwas thrown out of the wagon, the manhaving three ribs broken. The streamswere so high that they had to goaround them.They traveled five days before they

came to Parish's Grove, Iroquoiscounty, Illinois. They followed an In-dian trail to Hubbard's trading post.Here they bought about eight bushelsof corn and a canoe. They loaded it

with about thirty hundred pounds oftheir goods. The crew consisted ofJacob Kite, Joseph Grove and SamuelGrove. They gave them instructionsto work down the Iroquois river tothe Kankakee river, and through thatto the Illinois river, where they weresupposed to meet them. This wasnecessary because the teams weretired and thin and the roads were al-

most impassible. On the trip JosephGrove was so badly chilled that henever fully recovered.They crossed a prairie, which had

no bottom—at least, they didn't find

any. The second day of the trip theycame to a river which they couldn'tcross and they had to fell trees oneach side until it made a kind of abridge. They got the things over all

right. One of the women was afraidto go across, so John Green took heron his back and made his way overon his hands and knees.As a heavy rain came on, they en-

camped in a small grove of trees.

They were obliged to cut up some oftheir boxes to make a fire. One of

the women lay down on the bottomof one of the wagons and tried to

sleep but she was frozen fast so shecouldn't rise in the morning.

It took them three days to reachthe mouth of the Kankakee river, adistance of thirty miles. Those in thecanoe were about to give up in des-pair when they heard the familiarvoice of one of the other party calling

one of his favorite horses. Thosefrom the canoe made their way to theothers. They had to get their goodsacross the Illinois river, so they tookthem in the canoe. A friendly Indianshowed them a ford, and they got thewagons over without difficulty.

Their corn was giving out and theteams were getting thin because of

nothing to eat, except dry grass, andnot much of that, for the prairies weremostly all burned off by prairie fires.

In the afternoon of the 5th of De-cember they came in sight of a grove

[64]

of timber, and John Green believing

it to be Hawley's (now Holderman's)grove, started ahead on horseback.His expectations were realized and hefound Messrs. Hawley and Baresfordbutchering a beef. He harnessed oneof Baresford's horses to a wagon, andtaking a quarter of beef and filling

the wagon with corn, he started for

Nettle Creek, where he supposed theparty would stop. There was greatrejoicing in camp when Mr. Green ar-

rived with the corn and beef, as theywere about starved.The next day about four o'clock

they arrived at their destination.

They expected to find those who hadgone in the canoe to be there beforethem, and as night grew nearer theybegan to think they had met withsome serious accident. Their anxietywas soon relieved for they had madethe canoe fast on the rapids of theIllinois river near Marseilles andstarted across the prairie, not know-ing where they were going. They sawthe light in the cabin and went to it.

There was a great rejoicing in thecamp because the lost were foundagain.

Their next object was to securesome provisions, as they had a largefamily and good appetites. Theybought twenty-four hogs at Markly,then went to Tazewell county andbought thirty bushels of wheat at fourshillings, and eighty bushels of cornat three shillings.

They went to a place where Wash-ington now is and had their grainground into flour. The provisionswere scarce before they produced acrop. They frequently lived on beef,potatoes and pound cake, so called be-ing made of corn pounded into a mor-tar. They went to work improvingin the spring and by July 4th theyhad 240 acres fenced and nearly all

broken, and had built a sawmill, damand race, and had a run of bouldermill stones in one corner of the saw-mill grinding wheat, the first groundon the Fox river. The stones weremade from boulders.

Of the company of twenty-four thatcame out in the fall of 1829, two re-

turned to Ohio; of the twenty-two whoremained, only seven died in forty-oneyears.

VILLAGE OF LELANDBy Loretta Wright, Dist. 319.

The first settlements in the vicinityof Leland were made as early as 1837and '38. However, there were fewpersons located here before the rail-

road was built. This was due to theflat, swampy condition of the land,which had never been drained.

Tobias Satter, an old settler of Le-land, also the only old Civil war vet-eran living there now, tells of the timewhen you could put your skates on atyour door and skate from pond topond until you reached Indian creekwithout touching land. This was a dis-

tance of eight and one-half miles.

The town was started when theymade the survey for the railroad. Its

location is above the surroundingcountry, and this fact, with others, in-

duced the people nearby to survey andlay out a village.

Some of these persons were Christo-pher Fuerborn, his brother Henry andthe Whitmore brothers. All thesemen owned land but ChristopherFuerborn was the only man living onthe land at that time. The surveywas made by J. H. Wagner and is

recorded June 24, 1853. The town wascalled Whitfield.

[65

When the railroad erected theirfreight houses and passenger houses,they named the station Waverly andunder that name a post office was es-tablished. Because there was anotherpost office by this name in Morgancounty there was a petition made bythe residents of Waverly Station tochange the name.Due to the fact that the postmas-

ter's name was John Leland Adams,the name Leland was proposed andwas accepted in 1864. The town is

still known by that name.The first store was opened in 1853

by Abraham Skinner. The store stoodon the south side of the railroad. Mr.Skinner ran the store until his death,in 1855. The first mechanic was EliasHanson, who opened a blacksmithshop in 1854. The same year the sec-ond store was erected.

Before the first grain warehousewas built in 1853, the men hauledtheir grain to Chicago. Companieswere formed where several wagonswent together. The trip required sixdays.

The grain warehouse was chieflyused by the farmers to store their

]

grain in for an autumn shipment. Thelower part was used as a freight de-pot, and this was the only buildingfor grain for several years.From 1853 to 1860 the growth of

the village was very slow. That year

a good trade was maintained until thedisastrous fire in 1886. The fire

burned most of the business part ofthe town and stopped its progressquite a bit, from which it has neverrecovered.

CHIEF SHABBONABy Marjorie Simpson, Dist. 292.

In the southern part of DeKalbcounty is a little town of Shabbona. Alittle farther south is the grove of

Shabbona, which were both namedafter him. People around here thinkit a delight to point out the spot wherehis wigwam stood on the bank of asmall stream. It is a very beautifulspot, and a few mounds can still befound there. The tribe never num-bered more than one hundred andthirty. The grove, which was namedafter him, has many good trees, suchas bur and red oak. At one time it

was the finest grove in Illinois; it cov-ered fifteen hundred acres. The whitemen took trees from this grove andbuilt Shabbona a house to show theirappreciation. He never used it to live

in, but used it for his ponies.Shabbona was a member of the

Ottawa tribe. He was a nephew of

Pontiac, born somewhere along theMaumee river. He was a friend ofTecumseh and Prophet.

People had many different ways to

spell his name. Shabbona himselfliked to have the accent on the first

syllable, like Shab'ney.Shabbona was a very large Indian.

He was five feet nine inches tall andvery strong. He was so tall thatwhen he rode a horse he appearedmuch larger than when walking. Hishands were very small compared tothe rest of his body. One person said

he was as strong as a buffalo, as swifton foot as a deer, and as gentle as awoman.The autumn was the time for the

Indians to do their hunting. TheOttawa tribe came up through Illinois

to Chicago. Here they felt at homewith their friends, the Pottawatomietribe. Shabbona however did not re-

turn, but spent the remaining winterwith them. Here he married thechief's daughter and became a Potta-watomie chief. His brothers werejealous of him and said some thingsabout him that reached his ears. "Whenhe heard these things he started forhome, but he soon returned to his

squaw.He met his friend Tecumseh along

the Fox river, and held two councilswith him. He visited the Indians in

Illinois and Wisconsin.War was declared on Fort Dearborn.

Runners came by and said that thePottawatomies were to take part in it.

Shabbona feeling sorry for the whites,went there to warn them, but was toolate. Fifty-two were captured andscalped. In 1816 when the fort wasrebuilt, Captain Bradley buried theirbones. The prisoners were placed in

Kinzer's house, where Black Patridgeand Shabbona tried to protect them.Shabbona next joined Tecumseh and

was second in command. He did notlike fighting against the Americans,and after this was always a friend tothem.The Winnebagoes made war on the

whites. Shabbona did not like this.

He succeeded in persuading the Potta-watomies to stay at home. So Shab-bona, his son, and his nephew set outto warn the white men. He was in his

saddle forty-eight hours. He rodeback the second time and begged themto go, but they had heard so manyfalse alarms; so thirteen were killed,

and two little girls were taken cap-tives. This happened close to Shab-bona Park, along Indian creek.

Shabbona sold part of his land andwent West. When he came back thewhite men had taken control of it all,

and Shabbona had no home. He felt

very bad about this, because his twotwin boys were buried there. He beathis breast and cried, and ate nothingfor a season.

Shabbona came to Four Mile Grovefor his meat. He rode a pony downthe angling road from Paw Paw, andhere he butchered his meat with Mr.Haight. He would pick up dishes ortrinkets if he liked them. Mrs. Haightmanaged to have things hid when hecame.When he was ready to return he

would make a stone boat, pack themeat on it, tie it to the pony's tail andgo home. One time he brought alonga friend. Mr. Haight had a pony hecould not catch. He offered it to any-one who could. This friend of Shab-

[W\

bona's caught it. Mr. Haight did not

want to give it away, so he traded

some of Mrs. Haight's dishes for it.

He went to visit a white friend one

time just as the meal was over. Theyoffered him bread, which was the only

thing left. He said they were lazy

and didn't want to cook him anything.

So this man's daughter cooked himsome pancakes. He liked these verymuch. He liked the way the whitemen cooked their meat and often hadthem cook some for him. He learned

to do many things the way the whitemen did. Shabbona was very good at

doctoring. He doctored most of the

white people around here. He always

gathered his medicine in the grove.

He was very anxious for his daugh-

ter to marry a white man, and even

offered a large sum of money to the

one that would have her. She was

built on the same order as her motherand did not appeal to the white men.A friend of Shabbona's offered to

pay the toll at the toll bridge in Mor-ris, Illinois. One time a new toll-

keeper was not going to let him cross

without paying. He went to his friendand had him write this man a letter.

When this new tollkeeper understood,he let him cross. Shabbona ran acrosstwo or three times to show that hedid not have to pay.

His last home was in Grundy coun-ty, and the white men purchased this

for him. Here he lived till he died in

1859.When his wife died, he went into

Four Mile Grove and cried day andnight for a week. He cried so loudthat Mr. and Mrs. Haight could hearhim. He and his wife were buried in

a lot near Morris, Illinois, in Ever-green cemetery.

PIONEER LIFE IN ILLINOISBy Margaret E. Nelson, Dist. 131

Illinois seems beautiful to us as wetravel across it on wonderful highways,among well-kept fields, meadows andpastures, see comfortable homes sur-

rounded by orchards and gardens, butI think we fail to picture in our mindshow truly beautiful these prairies

must have been years ago with just asettler's cabin here and there withmiles of verdant grass between.The following story told to me by

one of Illinois' pioneers shows some of

our early ways of living:

Mr. Boisso, Sr. was born in SouthOttawa on April 14, 1857. He spenttwo years on this place then he withhis family moved to a home seven andone-half miles northwest of Ottawa.This farm is about a mile north of ourschool house. At the age of seventy-five he still lives on this farm.When Mr. Boisso moved on this

farm there were only two houses fromhis home to town. This seems ratherhard for us to realize now.

Mr. Boisso never knew the advan-tages of education as he never attend-ed school. However, because of his

diligence he was able to succeed in his

work. From the age of twelve on hetook a man's place in the work aboutthe farm. For many years he woreleather boots—never knowing whatshoes were.Horses and cows, or any livestock

people were fortunate enough to have,roamed the prairies at will. Therewere no fences. Later when the wire

fences were put up the farmers foundit necessary to put pieces of red clothon the fence to attract the attentionof the livestock so they wouldn't runinto the fence.

People in those days who did nothave access to banks would put their

money in old worn boots and then putthe boots in the yard. Feeling certainthat no one wanted old boots, theywere sure their money was safe.

A member of Mr. Boisso's familyhad a very thrilling experience with aprairie, fire. One day while hauling aload of hay he saw a prairie fire ad-vancing from the rear. The thoughtcame to him if he could set fire to thegrass ahead that when the fire burnedup to the grass he had burned, it

could go no farther, and thus hewould be saved. He looked in hispockets and found one match about aninch long. Carefully and anxiously, hebundled up some dry grass and lit it.

Luck was with him and he was suc-cessful in burning a patch of grasslarge enough to stop the prairie fire.

One day Mr. Boisso's sister was go-ing to bring in a horse from the pas-ture. She hung the halter over hershoulder and went on her way. Shehad been warned many times to be onthe lookout for snakes. After she hadgone a short ways she looked back to

see if one was following her. As shelooked back she caught sight of therope da rig-line- from the halter. She ofcourse thought it was a snake and be-

[67]

HIS SERVICE

CREATED

OUR NATION

gan running. Jbvery time she lookedshe saw it and so kept on running un-til she fell to the ground exhaustedwhere she lay until her brother cameupon her there a few hours later.

The housewives never thought ofgoing into the cellar for potatoes orany other vegetables unless they tooka large stick with them to kill anysnakes they might find there.

When the farmers went to town it

was usually on horseback, ridingstraight over the fields and country-

side. They usually made the triponce a month and this was the onlytime they got their mail. At times,too, it was most difficult to travelthrough the mud.When the grain was ready for mar-

ket the farmers would haul it down tothe canal and load it on a boat. Thisboat was "towed" by four or moremules. In this way the grain wastaken to market in Chicago. The"towpath" along the canal which wehear people speak of now was namedby this practice of "towing" the boats.

Most of the people raised manysheep. They would shear the woolfrom the sheep, clean it and make it

into yarn from which they wouldmake socks and other articles ofclothing.

The first cars were a great surpriseand a novelty to the people. Theywould stop whatever they were doingand watch and wonder when they sawone. To them it seemed an utter im-possibility that some day cars wouldbe in many thousands of homes. An-other invention which astonished thepeople was the telephone.Each new invention seemed to them

a miracle and life today to any ofthese pioneers like Mr. Boisso mustseem rather "enjoyable play," com-pared to the "interesting struggle"they had to live, yet we know that it

took these "interesting strugglers" tomake Illinois, the great state, andAmerica, the great nation that theyare today.

A PIONEER CEMETERYBy Kenneth Baker, Dist. 77.

Since I wrote my last pioneer storyI have become very much interested in

an old cemetery which is believed tobe the oldest one in Eden Township.The cemetery is located in the tim-

ber about one-quarter mile northeastof Cedar Point, off Route 89A.

It is the burial place of many of theTownship's earliest settlers, and is nolonger used today.

It is seldom visited by anyone, how-ever, Mr. Elmer Whitaker who lives

only a short distance from the ceme-tery, and who is now eighty-two yearsof age, takes a very great interestin it.

He obtains much enjoyment in tell-

ing about the lives of some of theearly settlers buried there.

I was very much interested in find-

ing that Nathaniel Richey and hiswife, who were some of Eden Town-

ship's first settlers are buried in this

cemetery. Mr. Richey and his wifecame to this township over one hun-dred two years ago. Mr. Richey wasseventy-seven years old when he died.

They came through the wildernessfrom Ohio to Eden. Mr. Richey'sdaughter Sophia, and her husband,James Robinson and their childrenIsabelle, Amanda, and William areburied there, also.

Other tombstones there show thenames of Letts, Despar, Hetrick, Van-dervort and Swan, also Delana andCharles Weston who in eighteen-sev-enty-five went to visit relatives in

Iowa. While there they both died,

and were brought back here to be bur-ied. The grave of William Kelly is al-

so found there. He came from Eng-land. He was born in seventeen hun-dred eighty, came to Eden Township

[68]

in 1835 and died in August,1851.My greatest delight I have

kept until last to tell, andthat is this: My great-great-grandfather andgrandmother, Michael andHelen Gingerich are buriedthere. I did not know this

until last summer. Theycame here from Germanywhen they were only fourteenyears old. They spent their

entire lives on the farm whereI now live.

Henry and Margaret Ernst,great-grandfather of one ofthe other pupils of our schoolare buried there.

There are also five Civil

War Veterans' graves found there.

They are: Newton Shelton, who wasknown for miles around as "Pegleg",because he lost one of his legs in thatwar. He died at the age of twenty-seven, so he was a very young manwhen he fought in the war. AlsoCharlie and David Tullis, who werecousins. Sergeant Jonathan Tullis,

father of Charles Tullis just mention-ed, and James Moore who died ofconsumption.The graves of these soldiers are

decorated by Mr. Whitaker every Me-morial Day. He has been doing this

for the last twelve years.The last burial made in this ceme-

tery was in the year 1889.

The cemetery as a whole has beenneglected. It is surrounded by an old

barb-wire fence that is broken down in

many places. Cattle have been allow-

ed to graze in it. Many of the graveshave sunk into the ground and somehave almost disappeared. Some of

the markers are large rough stones,

that have been brought up from the

creek. Many have no inscriptions up-

on them at all. Some have been handchisled, and a great many of the taller

markers have fallen over.

There are still some rose bushes andlow shrubs and lilies beginning to

show signs of growth marking the

resting places of these early pioneers.

A GERMAN M. E. CHURCHBy Arthur Rath, Dist. 113.

In the year 1858, a colony of Ger-man settlers bought farms in what is

now Grand Rapids Township. Thesesettlers came from Germany to starta home here.

They, having been reared in relig-

ious homes of course, desired to reartheir families likewise.The country being new, there were,

of course, no churches in the commun-ity so they drove with team and wag-on to what is now Peru, thirty milesaway to attend church. They went onSaturdays and returned on Mondays.Not being satisfied with this way of

worshiping they began to think ofmaking plans for building a church.Meanwhile they arranged to haveservices in a schoolhouse, eleven mileswest of where the present Grand Rap-ids M. E. church stands. A ministercame there and preached on Sundays.In 1859 they had a minister, Jacob

Maas, who worked faithfully amongthe people and had eleven conversions.This little group increased until in

1875 they had ninety-two full mem-bers and twenty-two probationers.On April 29, 1860, this little band,

with the help of a few friends, boughtground and began to plan the buildingin earnest, which was completed in

1861, with Rev. Feistcorn presiding.The pastors of these times only re-

ceived from three hundred eighty-fivedollars to five hundred dollars peryear.

During this time this little congre-gation also bought and built a parson-age for their minister, and 1880 to

1881, a group of members, numberingthirty-two, came from Garfield, Illi-

nois to join them.In 1885 Reverend William Roegge

came to take the pastorate. He re-

mained until 1888. During this time

[69]

many of the members moved to Pil-

lion, Nebraska. Some went to Kan-sas and others to Iowa. This left onlya small number to carry on the workof the church. Among this numberwere two young men who had comefrom Germany in 1871, both of whomanswered the call of the ministry.They both went to Galena, Iowa, toprepare themselves.

One, Mr. C. J. Loty, being a suc-cessful minister, holding pastorates at

Burlington, Iowa, and at other points,a few years ago retired from service,and moved to Grand Ridge, Illinois.

Here he died in November, 1931 leav-ing a family of six sons, two of whomentered the ministry, and four daugh-ters, two of whom married ministers.The other, J. H. Rapp, also took up

pastorates at various points in Iowa.He is still living. He was presentand spoke a few words at the funeralservices of Mr. C. J. Laatz.

DUNCAN DUNNBy Dorothy Redlich, Dist. 249

Duncan Dunn was born in Scotland,October 15, 1841.While Mr. Dunn was very small his

parents and his four brothers and sis-

ters came to America by sailboat. It

took them about three months to comeover. On the way his mother diedand was buried in the Atlantic ocean.Mr. Dunn's grandfather and unclecame with them.They landed in New York on the

27th day of May in 1874. They thenwent to Detroit and Chicago by theGreat Lakes. They hired a team ofhorses and a wagon at Chicago andcame to Oswego which is northeast ofLeland. They stayed at Oswego for afew days and came to Harding. Theyleft the smallest boy who was 18months old, in Oswego, with an oldlady so he could have a mother. Theystayed in Harding at a tavern whereJohn Brown now lives which is one-half a mile north of the Harding store.

Mr. Dunn's father later returned toOswego to get the baby. They movedone mile south of Harding on a farmwhich now belongs to Leslie McClure.They had to build up a little shack toserve as a home. They lived in thisplace for two years.

Mr. Dunn was six years old whenthey lived in this little shack. Hewent to Hossford school which was lo-

cated two miles north of Miller school

house. At that time it was the onlyschool house in the Township, and Mr.Dunn's father helped to build it.

During cholera time Mr. Dunn'sfather took care of the sick people andalso his uncle.

The people were dying so fast thatMr. Dunn's father was kept busymaking coffins. They would have tobury the people at night for the dis-

ease spread so easily. None of theDunn family took the disease.

Mr. Dunn's father later got sickand died December 14, 1854. Mr.Dunn was only 13 years of age at thedeath of his father. Since he was oneof the oldest children he went out towork to help support the family. Hisuncle kept house for them after his

father's death.

Mr. Dunn's youngest brother ran a-way to fight in the Civil War wherehe was killed. His sister went awayto Iowa to teach school.

Mr. Dunn then bought a place in

Munson town in 1854. They livedthere for a year then moved to Hard-ing, where Mr. Dunn took up the shoe-maker's trade for two years. He alsoworked in the Harding store. At this

time there was a broom mill and acheese factory across the road on thecorner from Gould school house whichis southwest of Harding.

GRANDMA'S REMINISCENCESBy Dolores Anderson, Dist. 202.

"Grandma, please tell me aboutGrandfather Henry's sickness longago?"

"Yes, dear; bring me a pillow andmy knitting and I'll tell you all aboutit, just as my mother told me."You must remember, in those days

there were few doctors and nurses.Towns were far apart. Because trans-portation was not very good they lived

near rivers and bodies of water. Fa-ther and mother lived on a farm nearPeru, the very place where I was born.It was along the Illinois river. Everyspring the farm was almost over-flowed with water because of theheavy rains they had. Then in Aug-ust, the month when almost all thewater had dried off during a hot sea-son, sickness began. Mother said

[70]

when the resin weed or yellow flower

appeared it was time to look out for

the ague and biliousness.

"A kind Irish lady, Nurse Marie, as

they called her, would go from onehome to another, leaving a kind andcheering word and a bit of gruel, wa-ter and a bottle or box of medicine at

each bedside. Yes, that same kindlady called on your great-grandfatherwhen he was sick. Oh, those were the

days when your neighbors meantsomething."When the cold winter came along

most of the sick were well. The menstarted to work again although theycouldn't work in the field they did

many other useful things."The dates of the dry season were in

1835 and 1838. In the first dates told

you, the people were not so very sick

but later they were very sick. A cor-

respondent of the eastern paper said

he had seen over three hundred gravesin the La Salle cemetery that hadnever been rained on.

"In the spring it was a very healthycountry. The men started to till thesoil again and the women worked veryhard in the house."One day when my mother wasn't

feeling very well a kind old ladycame over to see her. While theywere paring apples the lady said,

This is the most God-forsaken coun-try under the sun. It is only fit forthe Indians, prairie dogs, rattle snakesand they have almost got possessionnow. I wish it were sunk!' She thenstopped for a moment, then she said,

'But that isn't much of a wish, for it

wouldn't have to go down over fifteen

inches before it was all under water.'"The winter of 1838 was very cold,

having before been a dry summer andalmost all the time low water. Theycould not use water for mills or com-merce because there wasn't enough.But they used boiled wheat, hulledcorn which was called pound cake,

made by pounding corn in a mortar.A common way they ground corn wasby making the corn brittle and thengrinding it with a coffee grinder.

"They would have to do this bothmorning and night to satisfy their

good appetites.

"That is all I can remember now.""Thank you, grandmother. I will

now write it for my theme in the final

examination for language."

THE INDIAN CREEK MASSACREBy Gladys Thorson, Dist. 248.

William Davis came from Kentuckyto La Salle County in the spring of1830 and settled on the northern bankof Indian Creek. The first thing hedid when he arrived was a build acabin and a blacksmith shop. Sincehis ancestors had suffered much be-cause of the cruelty of the Indians in

Kentucky, he did not care for the redman either.

After he had finished building hisblacksmith shop and cabin he beganto build a dam in Indian Creek, be-cause he wanted the water power fora mill.

Soon other settlers came to IndianCreek, who were Allen Howard, J. H.Henderson, William Pettigrew, Wil-liam Hall and their families.About six miles up the river there

was an Indian village. The chief ofthe Indians was Meau-ens.When Davis built his dam in the

creek, it blockaded the Indians supplyof fish. This angered the Indiansvery much, but Davis did not pay anyattention to their protests.One night Davis discovered the In-

dians trying to destroy his dam. Thismade him "see red", so he caught one

Indian and beat him unmercifully.This angered the Indians still more to

think that the white man could beatand Indian without the Indian gettingrevenge.When fishing time came the Indians

were not fishing, yet they were sup-posed to be getting in their supplies.

This looked suspicious to the whitemen, so Henderson and Davis beganto investigate. They found that thevillage of Meau-ens and also the Wau-bansee of Paw-Paw Grove weredeserted.Immediately after Stillman's defeat

on the 14th of May, Shabbona rode in

and told the people to go to Ottawa,especially Davis, since the incident of

the beating of the Indian. But Daviscouldn't be persuaded to go, for he hadbeen taunted for going a year ago andwould not go again. He told the

ethers not to go, that there wasenough of them to fight the Indians.

But Pettigrew, Henderson and Howardtook their families to Ottawa and the

men came back to their work the

same day. There were no furthersigns of trouble with the Indians so

[71]

the families of Henderson and Howardreturned in a few days.On the evening of May 19th, Phps,

Shabbona's nephew, was coming fromwarning the white people in the tim-ber above Indian Creek, when he sawabout seventy warriors. He reportedthis to Shabbona. Early on the morn-ing of the next day, Shabbona went tothese people at Indian Creek to pleadwith them to go to a safe place.

The refugees of Ottawa returned onthat day, about noon to Indian Creek.At four in the afternoon, there wereHenderson, Edward, Greenburg, Halland Howard and son around thesettlement.

Davis' sons were about a half mileaway in a field planting corn. Mr.Hall and son, J. H. Hall, were busy atwork in the blacksmith shop; HenryGeorge and Will Davis were at themill; Mr. Norris and Mr. Davis wereat the shop ; Pettigrew, the women andchildren were in the house. Someonehad just brought a fresh pail of waterfrom the spring and all went to get adrink and to rest.

The Indians were hiding in the sur-rounding timber and suddenly rushedin on the white people. They were all

there in the shop and house and therewere only a few in the field. Thepeople in the house and shop could

not defend themselves from beingslaughtered.The only two people the Indians

spared were the Hall girls. They savedthese particular girls because theywanted them for squaws. They hadbeen to Mr. Hall's home before thisand tried to buy them from him.

William Hall and wife Mary andtheir daughter Elizabeth, Pettigrewand his wife and two children, Wil-liam Davis and his wife and five child-ren, Emery, George and Robert Norriswere massacred, making sixteen in all.

While the massacre was going on,George McFadden and William T.Walker were on their way from Dixonto Ottawa. They heard some shotsbut were in a hurry to reach Ottawaand did not stop to investigate.The ones that were saved by escap-

ing to Ottawa organized a companyto return to bury the dead. Whenthey came back to the dreadful scenethey found the body of little JimmyDavis with nothing but bones left.

The flesh had been stripped away bythe wolves. The little boy could notkeep up with the Indians so with oneIndian on either side of him holdingout his arms another shot him. Theyput all the dead in one grave withoutcoffins that is now marked by a Statemonument.

SPELLING MATCHESBy Mary Arntzen, Dist. 265.

When my grandmother was a girl

going to school the people of the com-munity had spelling matches in thewinter about once a month. Thesesocial gatherings were one of thepeople's chief winter entertainments.They were for the whole family. Usu-ally these matches were held in theschoolhouse, but sometimes they wouldspell at parties instead of playinggames.The schoolhouse in which they were

held is not standing now. It was a-

bout a mile and a half from Serena.The building has been moved and is

now a shed on a farm about a milefrom where it first stood. This school-

house was a white, one-roomed build-

ing that faced east. The teacher'sdesk was in front and facing it werethe pupils' desks, each in which fouror five pupils sat. The building washeated by a stove which stood in thecenter of the room. An entry led

from the outside to the room.Most of the people came in wagons

but those fortunate enough to have

buggies used them. Grandmothersaid that their buggy was black witha red streak around it. The way thatshe liked to go best was by bobsledwhen there was enough snow on theground. She liked this way best be-cause they would stop and get theneighbors on the way. Usually theysang or played guessing games goingand coming. Sometimes when theroads were bad and the bobsleds hadto go on a slant they would tip over.This caused much excitement.When they reached the schoolhouse

the men would tie and blanket their

horses. There were hooks on the wallin the back of the schoolroom on whichthey would hang their hats and coats.

If they were cold they would go overto the fire to get warm.They visited with each other until

they all had assembled. Usually just

the young folks spelled but sometimesthe older folks were persuaded to join

in the spelling matches. Once in a

while the adults spelled by themselves,but usually the adults watched and

[72]

visited with each other. The youngerchildren amused themselves by writ-

ing or drawing pictures on the black-

board while the spelling match wasgoing on. There were two blackboardsback of the teacher's desk. The chalk

was not in sticks as it is now but it

was in chunks and instead of havingan eraser they used a piece of cloth

to erase the chalk marks.The teacher appointed two of the

people to choose sides. Those whochose were usually the best spellers.

The two groups stood on opposite

sides of the room. The teacher gavethe words which were taken from the

speller or the reader. The easiest

words were given first but when there

were only a few of the contestantsleft standing the teacher picked outthe hardest words he could find. Whenthere was only one speller left on eachside and both of them were exception-

ally good spellers the people becameexcited and the teacher would have to

hunt for words hard enough. Every-one was quiet while the contestant

was spelling but as soon as they foundout that it was spelled right theycheered. After one of them had spell-

ed the other one down the people wentover to congratulate the winner.By that time it was getting late and

after planning when they would haveanother spelling match they wenthome.

AIDING RUNAWAY SLAVESBy James Galletti, Dist. 72

During the year 1619 one of the

greatest evils and the greatest cause

of the Civil War was introduced into

this country by some Dutch sailors.

This was the importation and sale of

negroes as slaves in this country.Even the King of England was en-

gaged in the selling of negroes for

gain. These slaves were sold mostlyto southern planters, where they weremade to work in the cotton fields withclothing and food for their pay. Theslaves in the north were used as houseservants and were not so numerous.

All plantation owners tried to keeptheir slaves in dense ignorance, so

they might not know about otherstates where negroes were free. Thesoutherners thought that the slaves

would be happy because they thoughtif all other states were the same, thenegro would not be running away.But all over the south there were dis-

satisfied slaves. Some were mistreat-ed by their masters, others thought of

being sold and separated from their

families.

But the northerners were too smartfor them. Some northerners secretlywent to the south and told the negroesabout free states and Canada. If amaster could find his slaves in theUnited States he had the right to takethem home; but if a negro got away to

Canada he was safe. They told theneR-ro how to recognize the north starand advised him to go in that direc-

tion. When the stars were not shin-ing they should look for moss whichgrows on the north side of tree trunks.

So the slaves began to escape fromtheir masters. They traveled by

night and remained hidden in the day-time. Some used rowboats so theyleft no tracks for the bloodhounds.Some reached Canada by being sent in

boxes as merchandise. Sometimes mendressed as women and women in men'sclothes escaped to Canada.The Underground Railway system

was managed in this way: The sta-

tions of the railway were farmhouses.The farmer was conductor and en-gineer while his horses and wagonsmade up the train.

There were fines of five hundreddollars put on all men caught helpingnegroes escape; so the aiders had to

keep it a secret. Suspected farmerswere closely watched by agents hiredby slave owners.The negroes were concealed in one

place, sometimes for a week so theycould throw their pursuers off thetrack. The hiding place was usuallythe cellar, the attic, or a secret room.When they were closely watched theywent to a haystack or woodpile.John Hood, of Sparta, aided a negro

and his wife to escape from slave

catchers, who stopped at Hood's housefor night. The negroes were locked in

a cellar. During the night wheneveryone was asleep Hood removedthem to a haystack from where theyescaped. Mr. Seeper, of Princeton,Illinois, aided 31 men and women in

six weeks. One conductor aided abouton° thousand in one year.

There were no telegraph lines butcode letters were sent by mail. Theywere cautiously written, in case someagents opened them, they would notknow what they were about. Follow-ing is an example:

[73]

Dear Grinell,

Uncle Tom says that if the roadsare not too bad you can look for thosefleeces of wool by tomorrow. Sendthem on to test the market and prices.No back pay.

Yours, Hub.

We know only a few of these routesnow. They have only dim traces, al-

though a few men linger who can tell

thrilling stories of that little sectionon which they aided the negro. Norecord was ever kept of how many

hundred men and women won theirfreedom by crossing Illinois.

There was an Underground Railwayroute through Eden Township in LaSalle County. One station was locat-ed in Lostant, south of Cedar Point,and the other station was in CedarPoint, on Charles Mudges farm in alarge barn. Mr. Mudge, Sr. of CedarPoint also aided many negroes tofreedom.

Reference: Illinois History, Lecture byC. Whitaker, U. S. History.

DAYTON'S BEGINNINGBy Arthur Henicksman, Dist. 209.

The vicinity of Dayton must havepresented a very different appearancewhen John Green came here in 1829than it does now. The Fox River val-ley was a favorite feeding ground forthe buffalo and hence attracted theIndians. The river furnished an a-bundance of fish.

Mr. Green visited the man who hadhomesteaded on the land where Day-ton now stands. This man not onlysold the land to Mr. Green but he alsoagreed to plant winter wheat in orderthat the people might have wheatearly the next year.

Mr. Green then returned to Ohioand formed a company of hardy pio-neers. There were several marriedmen each having one child: DavidGrove, Henry Brumback, and ResinDebolt. Mr. Green himself had sevenchildren. The younger, unmarriedmen of the party were: Samuel andJoseph Grove, Jacob Kite, AlexanderMcKee, and Harvey Shaver.

Their equipment besides the house-hold goods of each family consisted ofa four-yoke ox team, two wagons, anda carriage.The roads were passable to the In-

diana border. Here at Whitewaterthey were forced to wait several dayswith other bands of westward-boundpeople unless, it is said, they wereable to travel on top of the wagonsalready mired.

Pressing westward they were forcedto cut their own road and could ad-vance only about ten miles a day.When streams, which were too largeto cross, blocked the way they "head-ed" them, that is, they went upstreamtil] it became small enough to cross.They reached a settlement on the

Iroquois River where they purchaseda canoe and eight bushels of corn.

After sending the canoe down the

river laden with part of the householdgoods the rest of the party pushedwestward.The streams of the vicinity through

which they were now passing wereswollen from the almost constantrains of the autumn. At one of thesestreams trees were felled from bothsides to form a bridge. The house-hold goods had barely been carriedover when the water swept the bridgeaway. A friendly Indian, however,showed them a crossing. At anothertime a single log lay across thestream. One lady became so nervouswatching the others cross on thetreacherous footing that she refusedto try to cross. John Green, on hishands and knees, carried her across onhis back.The cold wet weather of late fall

now began to hinder their progress.Mrs. Green, when she sat down on theground to rest a moment fell asleep.She found in the morning that shecould not rise because her clothingwas frozen fast to the earth.At last, reaching a spot near what

he supposed to be the Baresford farm,Mr. Green rode ahead to find if it real-ly was for they were sadly in need ofprovisions. Mr. Green arrived to find

Mr. Baresford butchering a beef. Heloaded a quarter of a beef and somecorn on a wagon and drove back tomeet the party.They were now near their destina-

tion and soon they had settled on theFox River where Dayton now stands.They built a fort-house on the top of

a hiffh bluff overlooking the river.

This was superseded by one builton the face of the cliff.

Mr. Green's next question was howto provide food for his family becauseto quote him, "He had a large familyand good appetites." He was able to

[74]

buy twenty-four hogs, thirty bushelsof wheat and about eighty bushels of

corn. Many times before the crop wasraised they subsisted on "pound cake"a composition of ground corn soakedin water and baked.

But, despite hardships, the men of

the company who numbered only ninehad fenced, with rail fence, and hadbroken most of 240 acres of land.

They also built a dam and race to sup-ply power for a sawmill. This mill hada pair of burrs in one end for grind-ing wheat.

In the spring of 1831 the high watertook this mill out. It was replacedwith another built farther up the bank.Two more mills were constructed, the

last in 1855. This one known as the"Pioneer Mill" ground grain for peo-ple for one hundred and fifty milesaround.

Later, a frame building was built

to the north of the grist mill, and usedas a woolen mill. This was partly torndown and a building of Joliet stonereplaced it. The remaining part ofthe old building was used as a collarfactory.At that time Dayton was a thriving

village of about 500 people. Now it

has less than one hundred!To be sure the landmarks which the

people erected are disappearing, butthe story of their deeds will live in thehearts of many.

THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAYBy Ethel M. Whitmore, Dist. 227

The underground railway was not arailroad under the ground, but a sys-

.

tern of helping the slaves get to Cana-da where their owners could not seize

them and return them.The slaves were kept in ignorance

in the South. They were not told bytheir masters that there was free landand in some places it was illegal toteach a negro to read or write. Somewere mistreated by their masters andsome were sold and in this way, separ-ated from their families. For thesereasons the slaves were dissatisfied.

Many people of the North went tothe South on purpose to tell the ne-groes of a way to get to Canada.Others just told them as they weregoing through the South. They toldthem that the moss always grew onthe north side of the trees and alsohow to find the north star. They toldthem to travel toward the north andalso who and where their first friendwould be.

Many of the slaves traveled up therivers, so as to avoid leaving trails.

Others were sent in boxes and trunks.Some disguised themselves, by mendressing as women and women dress-ing as men. Still others blacked theirfaces with burnt cork and rode on thesame train as their master without be-ing recognized. These were theMulattoes.The underground railway received

its name from some people of Colum-bia. Pennsylvania. The slaveholderscould not figure out where the slaveswere disappearing to and they saidthat there must be an undergroundrailway. The people of the countrythen adopted the name.

In this system the stations were thefarmhouses, the conductor was thefarmer, the engine was the horses, andthe wagon was the train.

Anyone caught helping the slavesto get to Canada was fined five hun-dred dollars, and after 1850, they werefined one thousand dollars plus sixmonths in jail.

At the station, the passengers wereconcealed in the cellar, attic, or a se-cret room in the daytime. Sometimesthey were hid in the hayloft or wood-pile. In Galesburg, Illinois, they werehid in the belfry of the church.Most of these trains were run at

night, although in disguise they wererun in the daytime also. In one in-stance, about twenty-eight negroeswere helped along by closed vehiclesimitating a funeral procession. Somewere also hid in loads of hay andhauled along in that way.When there was a gentle tap at the

window or door, the conductor knewthat one of the slaves wanted to behidden. The conductor did not knowwhat night or what hour of the nightthe negro would come.A record has not been kept of how

many slaves La Salle County helpedget to Canada, but the people did theirshare. There were stations at Lowell,Troy Grove, Ottawa, Freedom and FallRiver. One man said that in fortyyears he had helped no less than onethousand men, women, and children.Another said that in six weeks he hidthirty-one slaves.

Because of the penalty, the conduc-tors were very careful of who knewthat they were helping the slaves.They let the next helper know when a

[75]

slave was coming by queer messagesin which no one knew what was meant.At Homer (Troy Grove) the sta-

tions were located at the Hickok homeon the southeast corner of "Wild Bill"

Park; the Green Mountain Tavern onthe northeast corner of the same Park,which was run by Hiram McLaughlinpvd the William Dewey house, whereAddie Gary lives, which is the oldest

house now standing in Troy Grove.Some of the slaves were brought

here from Lowell, crossing the river at

Utica or La Salle.

Most of the slaves that were helpedby the Quaker settlement at Lowellwent through Ottawa, but those thatcame to Homer came mostly fromMount Palatine, which is south ofPeru. They crossed the river lowerdown and sometimes stopped at a sta-

tion on the La Salle to Princeton road,then came to Troy Grove.

Before Gouldtown was laid out,

slaves went to a place near the oldPanton Mill on Indian Creek, north ofWedron.The men who helped to run the un-

derground railway were: NahumGould, William A. Hickok, Williamand Ansell Dewey.

Later Gould laid out Gouldtown andcontinued his operations with a stationat his home.

Under the floors of the Hickok houseand the Green Mountain tavern shal-low holes were dug. Here the slaveswere hidden.

One female slave stayed at the Hic-

kok home for many years. She wentfrom there to Maiden where she wasmarried and lived for years.

Some men offered large rewards for

valuable slaves and their pursuerssometimes enlivened the trips betweenstations by running fights.

William Hickok had a team of Ken-tucky horses. He had to drive at a

dead run sometimes to elude their pur-

suit. They often hid off the main roaduntil their pursuer had passed.

AN OLD PUMPING STATIONBy George Causland, Dist. 54

There are two very old buildings lo-

cated in Otter Creek township quite

close to my home. The one aboutwhich I am going to write is the OldPumping Station.A little over fifty years ago two

men named Bernie and Goodone camefrom Chicago and built a pumpingstation on the banks of Otter Creek.The building and reservoir were built

on land owned by Isaac Mason,The station was built to supply the

water for Streator, a mining town in

Bruce Township about four milessouthwest of the Mason farm. Thebuilding was made of bricks whichwere hauled from Streator. Even in

those days the bricks were very wellmade as the building is still standing,and is today used as a barn for live-

stock. The contractors planned to

haul cement from Joliet, but found

b^ue clay about a half mile away fromthe building under construction, andused it instead. This clay was hauledin wheelbarrows. The slate shingles

for the roof were shipped from Joliet

ps was also the stone used for thefoundation. These stones are set fouror five feet into the ground and threeor four carloads were used for thefoundation. The window glass wasmade in Streator, and hauled out onwagons. The lumber was also hauledfrom a sawmill in Streator.The smoke stack was a stove pipe

about eightv feet high, not one of

those large brick stacks which we see

on buildings today. The men whowere employed to help build this wa-ter works were from Streator. Theyasked for more money which they re-

ceived, but it was only a few monthsuntil they again asked for ;) raise in

[76]

pay; this they received also,

but when they demanded athird increase they were re-

fused. For this reason theyquit working and returned totheir homes. The contractorswent to Joliet and Chicagowhere they hired about fifty

foreigners, who rode on flat

cars out to the pumping sta-tion. A wooden shanty wasbuilt for these workmen.They thought they were in

the wild west, and one nightwhen they heard someoneriding on horse back, they all

rushed out firing at the riderbecause they thought it mustbe Indians. The water forthis station was obtained from severaldrilled wells and from Otter creek. Alarge reservoir was dug, and into this

the water was pumped and stored.From this reservoir it was piped into

the homes in Streator.This station was used for about

eight years but by that time the popu-lation in Streator had increased somuch that this station proved inade-quate and a new one was built on the

HI5 SERVICE

banks 01 the Vermillion river. Mr.Mason then remodeled the building

and made it into a barn, which hestill uses for cattle. From time to

time the building has been repaired.

The smoke stack has been torn down,a modern roof has been put on, andnew windows put in, but in everyother respect the building is the old

pumping station.

MAKING SOAPBy Stephen Wujek, Dist. 228.

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness,"says my mother, as she looks at ournecks and hands and then makes uswash again and use plenty of soap.She says, "Now, God gave us water,but soap I think was invented by thefirst mother in this world. I hearwomen haven't changed much sincethe days of Eve."

All the mothers I know today maketheir boys use soap and water on theirfaces and hands. Now ages ago peo-ple did not use the kind of soap weuse. They mixed wood ashes andwater with lye and diluted that withwater for cleaning purposes. Theyused pure lye to dye their hair redwhich in those old days was veryfashionable.The first real soap was made in the

ninth century by boiling the lye madeof wood ashes with olive oil. Thengradually other oils and fats wereused. Finally another lye was invent-ed which by boiling with fats madeh?rd soap.Now I thought it would be interest-

ing to find how soap was made in ourown country in the pioneer days.As soap making along with candle

making, spinning, dyeing, weaving,

and quilt making were consideredwomen's work I asked our neighborlady. She told me about how she hadhelned her mother make soap in theearly days.They bored small holes in the bot-

tom of a barrel. She would set it upabout two feet off the ground on aslanting board. As they used woodonly for fuel, she saved all the woodashes. She preferred ashes fromhardwood trees as ash, hickory and redoak. She would put a bucket full ofashes into the barrel at a time. Shewould then tamp them down andpour enough water over them to keepthem damp. She would repeat thatuntil the large barrel was full of theashes. Then she would let it standfor a week or ten days to ripen.

She then would pour water on top ofthe ashes a pail full at a time and let

it run through the ashes into a trough.That was lye water. It was verystrong at first. She would keep onpouring water over the ashes untilthe water that seeped through had notaste of lye.

Now while she was collecting ashesin one barrel she had another barrelfor all meat scraps, crackling skins

[77]

and fat, for in those days at butcher-ing time nothing was wasted.On some nice day in the spring of

the year she would put the lye waterin a big kettle and would put thatwaste fat and meat into it a little at atime. She kept on putting it in untilthe lye would no longer dissolve themeat. She would then let it cookslowly until it was thick as syrup.That was soap.

She would let it cool and then put it

in kegs for it was soft soap. Sheusually would have about sixteengallons of it.

It was made from material on hand.

It did not cost them a cent but theirlabor. It was their only soap. It wasused for all purposes, for bathing andwashing clothes. It was mixed withsand for scouring pots and pans. It

was even used for punishment to washthe mouths of boys and girls whenthey told lies.

In later years when fire wood be-came scarce they used the manufac-tured concentrated lye and made hardsoap with it. Then gradually people

started to use manufactured soap until

there was very little soap made athome.

STREATOR AS HARDSCRABBLEBy Arthur Turner, Dist. 86

As far back as 1832 farmers settlednear the present site of Streator, butthere was no coal mined until some-time in the sixties. The sudden dis-

covery of coal caused a rush of eagerminers to this region just at the out-break of the Civil War. The first

grocery store was erected along theVermillion River to supply provisionsfor the coal miners. Then came morepeople of all nationalities, willing torisk their fortunes on what appearedto be a gamble but which proved to bea successful venture.

This settlement was known as Hard-scrabble. It was so named by a black-smith who watched the "hard-scrab-ble" of the teams and miners in scal-ing the banks at the river ford. Laterthat small mining camp, under a newname, grew and progressed until it be-came the prosperous city of today.

Streator grew up from its coal beds.All of the people were interested in

the work. After the miners disap-peared the foundation of the city wasbuilt for larger success.A man by the name Dr. W. L.

Streator of Cleveland, Ohio was theleading man among the people whocame here shortly after war to de-velop the coal fields. He was the first

president of the Vermillion Coal Com-pany which later was the Chicago,Wilmington, and Vermillion Coal Com-pany. That is mostly the reasonwhy Streator got its name from him.

In 1872 the Chicago, Wilmingtonand Vermillion Coal Company was theleading coal company. This companypaid the highest wages and employedthe best miners.

Later in 1892 the Acme Coal Com-pany was established. It was the first

one to clean, sort, and size the coal.

This coal was used for fuel by the Chi-cago, Burlington and Quincy rail-

road and they said it was the bestcoal their company ever used.

In 1892 the Streator Clay Manu-facturing Company was organized bypeople of Ohio.

Streator was known for its glassfactories. Mr. M. W. Jack was thepresident of the Streator Glass andBottle Company. The Thatcher Manu-facturing Company erected anotherfactory in 1909. A one furnace fac-tory was erected in Streator and thatmade the business grow steadily until

now it has a modern and well-equip-ped plant that cannot be excelled forits production in milk bottles. Thereare about 180,000 gross of bottles

manufactured each year.Streator is known most for its rail-

roads. The railroads grew on accountof the industries of Streator. Someof its roads that have different namesnow, are the Wabash, which was theChicago and Paducah; the Burlingtonwhich was the Ottawa, Oswego andFox River; the Chicago and Altonwhich was the Streator and Wenona;and the Sante Fe that goes into Chi-cago was originally owned by the Chi-cago, Pekin and Southwestern.The Wabash is one of the main rail-

roads that run south from Main Street.

It goes past the Western Glass Com-pany, Fanning's Bread and Butter

Pickle Factory, Streator Paving Brick

Company and the Streator Drain Tile

Company.Education is another important

thing that Streator has not overlook-

ed. There are nine modern brick andstone schools. The first brick school

was built in 1882.

[78]

A BOY IN BLUEBy Goldie Hubbard, Dist. 284.

Mr. Henry Eby was born in Leban-on county, Pennsylvania, Sept. 8, 1841,the youngest son of John and MaryEby.

In 1850 this family moved to a homenear Mendota. In those days, every-thing was new and there was little

opportunity for Mr. Eby to attendschool, but he made the best of his

opportunities and learned quite a little

by himself.When the Civil War broke out, Mr.

Eby was nineteen years of age. Thencame President Lincoln's call for vol-unteers. Every able-bodied man wasready to fight for our country.

Soon the fife and drum were heard.Volunteers were being called. Mr.Eby could not resist the desire to helpfight, and enlisted in the Twelfth Illi-

nois Infantry. At the end of threemonths he re-enlisted and joined Co.C, Seventh Illinois Cavalry. Duringthis period he was orderly for GeneralPalmer and it was his duty to carrymessages to the battlefront. He didmany acts of bravery during this time.When the battle of Chickamauga

was fought, the Union Army made ablockade of logs, trees, stones, andanything that would serve their pur-pose. Soon bullets began whizzingby, like an army of mad hornets, butthe fight did not start in earnest untilthe next day. That night LieutenantShaw told the boys this would be oneof the hardest fought battles that anyof them would ever live to see.

I imagine many of those soldierswould liked to have been at home withthe folks they loved so well. Yetmany of these boys never came back.They had given their lives that "OldGlory" might be kept waving.This battlefield of Chickamauga is

now owned by the United States Gov-

ernment. Monuments have been plac-ed in the exact places where the Unionand Confederate troops and batterieswere stationed.

Mr. Eby was made prisoner of warat the close of this battle. He wassent to Belle Island prison, but waslater removed to the Libby and Smithprison. The prisoners were fedscarcely enough to live on, and manyof them died of starvation. It was socold in the prison the prisoners wouldbe chilled through when morningcame.

Mr. Eby made his escape from pris-on, only to be captured and returned.A month after Mr. Eby's return to

prison, they were paroled back to St.

Louis where Mr. Eby joined histroops as soon as he had partly re-gained his health although he neverfully recovered from the hardships hehad endured while in prison.On March 14, 1867, Mr. Eby married

Mary L. Swisher of Mendota. Theywere blessed with two daughters butboth were taken by death. For manyyears Mr. and Mrs. Eby lived on afarm outside of Mendota. After hiswife's death in 1902, Mr. Eby movedinto the city.

He invented many useful articles,but his patents were stolen from him.Mr. Eby also designed the SoldierMonument at Restland cemetery in

Mendota. This monument is dedicatedin memory of all soldiers.

Mr. Eby was taken by death Sundaymorning, February 7, 1932, at the ageof 90 years, 4 months and 29 days.

Mr. Eby will never be forgotten bythe people, as he was always ready togive a handshake, a smile, or a wordof cheer to everyone. May his namebe honored and remembered in all theyears to come.

RELICS OF INTERESTBy Kathryn Chapman, Dist. 161

There is much to be said of our an-cestors who suffered so bravely asthey helped make our country becomewhat it is. We pupils should feelproud that we are able to honor themin some small way.For over one hundred years our

County of La Salle has made muchprogress in many ways. Our fore-fathers must have suffered much asthey endured the many hardships be-fore them. Still we like to hear about

the first years they spent in this partof the country.

I have enjoyed seeing, and learningabout old relics kept in the olderhomes. Some articles I was shownwere made by the first settlers in thispart of La Salle County. One was anavy-blue and white bedspread orcoverlet which has been kept for overninety-four years. It is still in verygood condition. The pattern is a verybeautiful one. Great skill is shown to

[79]

be used by the makers. It is hard to

believe that this spread was not madeby some expensive machine similar to

those used today. A white fringe sew-ed around the edge is torn, but thecoverlet is very strong.

In the early days the girls weretaught to spin and knit garments forthe whole family. Often the younggirls were busy making clothing to beworn during the cold winter months.The many labor-saving machines nowused in La Salle County make mucheasier work and show much progress.The yarn used to weave this spread

was spun from pure carded wool in

Orleans County, Kendal, New Yorkby a twelve year old girl namedSusan Nelson.Susan was the daughter of Mr. and

Mrs. Nels Nelson who came to Ameri-ca from Norway on the ship "Restora-tion." This group set sail on July 4,

1825 ?nd landed in New York October9, 1825 a period of 97 days.The "Restoration" was a three-mast

sailing vessel weighing forty tons,

and carried fifty three passengers.The bedspread which I write about

was woven by an aged lady known in

Orleans county, New York, as Grand-ma Greene. She wove articles for alivelihood.

There was much to the art of spin-

ning by hand. The carded wool wasspun into strands, measured, woundinto balls, and colored. After havingcompleted these processes, it could beknitted or woven. Much of the cloth-

ing used was not colored.

The spinning wheel which Miss Nel-son used is kept as a relic in the homeof her daughter, my teacher's mother.The frame still stands and could beused with good results if one wishedto.

At the age of twenty years, Susan

Nelson, with her parents and othermembers of the family came fromNew York to Illinois and settled in

Miller township. In 1850 she wasmarried to Charles Donelson. Afterliving in Dayton for a short time, theyresided in Ottawa, Illinois until 1853.At that place Mr. Donelson worked asa wagon builder. Later they movedto their farm situated two and one-half miles northeast of Seneca, wherethey lived the rest of their lives.

Other relics I have seen beside thespinning wheel and the bedspread area spool rack and a book of songs.

The. snool rack is well made of hardpolished wood. It was given to Mrs.Donelson when she was a child at theage of five years. It has been keptexactly one hundred one years. Nowit is considered an article of realimportance.The book of songs copied by this

same person is dated January 19,

1845 at which time she was nineteenyears old and was attending a nightsinging school for young folks. Someof the songs included are: "Cold Wat-er Army," "All is Weil," "New Mis-sionary Hvmn," "The True YankeeSailor," "Come, Come Away," "TheOrphan Girl," and "IndependenceDay." I am sure these young folksenjoyed learning such songs whichperhaps were some of the best num-bers because many are the same onesprinted in song books now.

It is very interesting to learn muchabout old relics. They are lasting be-cause they were made of the best ma-terial and by great workmen. Thelives of the people are so much like

the old relics because they are not for-

gotten after we learn something greatabout them. Let us always honor ourparents and ancestors by trying to doonly the good in the best way we can.

CONQUERING THE PRAIRIEBy Delbert Chapman, Dist. 218

The people that made up the popu-lation of Manlius township were AbnerStebbins, who came from New YorkState. He was a bachelor who walkedall the way. A few years later AbdolStebbins came from New York state

in 18-35. He drove an ox team bring-ing his wife and ten children withhim. Mr. Richey came in 1831 andJoseph Brumbach in 1832. LowellKimball came in 1833. David Olm-stead and Mr. Linderman came in

1834. All these settlers broke anddrove oxen.

These people broke up the sod witha wooden plow. These plows wouldplow a furrow from sixteen to thirty

inches wide and just a few inches deepbecause they found out that shallowplowing was the best because the suncould get at the roots of the sod andkill it. Plowing with these kinds of

plows was hard work. They hitchedfive and sometimes six yoke of oxen to

one plow.After the new sod was turned over

they cut a gash in it with an ax anddropped in the seed corn. They cover-

[80]

ed it up with their feet and then step-

ped on it. Sometimes this wouldmake a good crop and sometimes it

would not owing to the season.

Soon their cribs were so full theywere bulging out with corn. They fed

all they could to the cattle and hogstill they were fat and sleek. At last

they found out it would be necessaryto haul the corn to some city and sell

it. The nearest place they could gowas Chicago.Some of the farmers would join to-

gether and haul it in wagons. Insteadof sacking it they put a sheet in the

wagon and shoveled in the corn. Theystarted out with two or three yoke of

oxen on one wagon. They travelled

all day and at night they stopped.Sometimes they would herd the oxen

taking turns. They would also tie themto a stake driven into the ground bya long rope so they could eat grass.

The next day they started out a-

gain. Sometimes they would come to

a river. If it was high they had to

wait for it to go down because therewere not any bridges at that time.

While they were waiting they wouldpitch horseshoes or play other games.These trips sometimes took five to tendays and sometimes two weeks. Whenthey got there they would bring backlumber and food.The second year they put in wheat.

This made crops that averaged fifty

bushels to the acre. They went to

Chicago with wheat this time. Theybrought back the things they needed.Sometimes they would go twice a yearwith the grain. Soon they thoughtthey could raise and fatten cattle be-cause they thought they could walk to

Chicago better than they could haulthe grain. After the years went onbetter farm tools were invented until

now we have big plows and tractorsand all kinds of cultivators.

Each farmer soon planted a fewfruit trees on a small spot of ground.

The first apples in Rutland Townshipwere on the farm of Mathias Long.The first apples in Manlius townshipwere on a tree planted by Mr. Rickeyand stood about three rods west of the

residence of Mr. Long the Universalistminister in Marseilles, (known as theold McCanna place). Joseph Brum-bach raised the first peaches in either

Rutland or Manlius townships in 1838.

Abdol Stebbins brought the seed fromNew York State. Currants werebrought in the county from Mackinawby Mr. Parr who owned the first framehouse.

Wheat was the main crop in thecounty until 1850, when the chinchbugs got to be so thick they could notraise wheat very well without it beingdestroyed by these bugs. After thatthey had more corn and it became themain crop.

The first train of cars that ran in

the county was in September in 1852.

These trains ran on wooden tracks.

Besides traveling in a few trains theyhad stage coaches. The fare onFrink's and Bingham's stage coacheswas five dollars from Chicago to Ot-tawa. Every passenger was expectedto carry a rail to pry the coach out of

mudholes and sloughs.

The first schoolhouse in ManliusTownship stood near George Bos-worth's home. The first in RutlandTownship stood near Sam Milliken's

farm. Miss Parker, who became af-

terwards Mrs. Lamphier was the first

school teacher in Manlius township.Mr. Lamphier soon became the secondschool teacher in Manlius township.Mary Cetis, who became the wife ofMancell Talcott, the old time million-

aire of Chicago, was the third school

teacher of Manlius township.The making of farms, homes, roads

and orchards out of the barren prairie

made it a more civilized State in whichwe live now.

PIONEER DAYS WITH GRANDFATHERBy Marjorie Bane, Dist. 5

Mordecai Bane, after marrying Sa-rah Blodgett, settled at Shaw's Pointin Marshall County. George HenryBane, my grandfather, was born Nov-ember 6, 1862, the youngest of eightboys and the fourteenth child of afamily of sixteen.

His father reaped his fields with acradle and was one of the best at it in

those days. The reapers were in usebut were not very common. He and

another man, who had a reputationas a good hand with the cradle, reapeda ten acre field of oats in one day.Mordecai had a swath of eight feet.

He set out hedge plants for fences a-round Dana. They would plow theground where they were going to plantit and then drop in the hedge plants.Some thought nobody could plow astraight line but Mordecai Bane sothey always got him to do it.

[81]

When George was four the familymoved to La Salle County, to a farmwhich is now about two and a halfmiles west of Dana. A creek woundaround through it. As there was nobridge it had to be forded. The bestford was in such a position as to

bring the people who forded it nearlyinto the yard.One year it rained very hard near

harvest time. So much water stoodin the field that the reaper could notbe used. George and his father cutthe grain with cradles while two of his

brothers bound and shocked it. Theyhad to carry it to another part of thefield so it wouldn't have to stand in

the water.Various kinds of reapers have come

out in George's time. The first was asimple machine. After it had been a-

round, the grain cut had to be re-

moved immediately so the horseswouldn't step on it on their nextround. The next reaper had a plat-

form on it. It required two men to

run it. One worked the machinerythat cut the grain and dropped it onthe platform and the other raked it off

onto the ground. The next reaper tocome out was a self raker. By push-ing a pedal with the foot the rakewould clear the platform of the grain.

The next reaper was a self-binder. It

bound the grain with twine. One hadbeen used in Kansas that bound thegrain with wire. These self-bindershave been supplanted by the combine.

After living there for nearly tenyears the family decided to go to

Kansas. After getting their tickets

at Wenona they got on the Chicago &Alton at sunup Monday morning.Their household goods and stock hadbeen put on a train the Thursday be-fore. It was so slow, however, thatthey passed it at Kansas City. Theyreached Hutchinson on Thursdaynight. The family then settled on a

little farm in Reno County outside ofHutchinson.

There was quite a lot of traffic

through the town. Perhaps the factof there being a good road accountedfor it. Buffalo bones, picked up on theprairie were taken through to be sold.

George could never get used to Kan-sas. The sun always seemed to rise in

the north for him. Therefore in ]880he came back to Illinois and on March14, went to work for his cousin, whosename was also George Bane. Therewas so much snow on the ground thatthey could not work in the fields untilApril 21.

While working for his cousin,George saw a mole ditch dug. A sharpblade about two and a half feet deepwith a "shoe" on the end was put intothe ground and pulled by oxen. Thewater would seep into this, down tothe hole left by the "shoe" whereit would run out into a creek. It wasabout the same as a tile.

After working for his cousin fortwo years, George left and went towork for his grandfather, who lived amile south and three-quarters of amile east of Dana.

One year everyone had the idea ofgetting ice. It was cut from rivers in

the vicinity and brought to one RobertPritchett's ice house. Nothing muchwas ever made of it as the boards ofthe ice house soon decayed.

After working for his grandfatherfor six years, George met Lulu Prit-chett. They were married at hisgrandfather's on February 10, 1889.They moved to a farm a mile east andhalf a mile south of Dana. Georgeprospered as a farmer and became thefather of four boys and one girl. Heand his wife live there today. Theypre well-known, respected citizens of

Dana, and have recently celebrated

their forty-third wedding anniversary.

BITS OF LOCAL HISTORYBy Janet Fields, Dist. 96

The village of Grand Ridge is situ-

ated in the south central part of LaSalle county, a county that is sec-

ond in size to but one other in theState. In wealth, natural resources,and natural beauty, La Salle Countyis second to none and has the finest

sand for glass manufacturing in theUnited States.Grand Ridge is located on the

Bloomington road, a road of historic

interest. It has one railroad, the Chi-

cago, Burlington and Quincy and is

located eight miles south of Ottawa,the County seat. Grand Ridge at first

was named Livonia. No one knowswhy it was so called, but because of its

being the highest point of land be-tween Streator and Ottawa, it wascallpd Grand Ridge.The first store was built in 1870, a

small board building, which was later

moved and enlarged. The first grainelevator was built in 1871. Elias Care

[82]

was the first postmaster, and the first

doctor was J. S. Lewis.For many years no one thought of

incorporating the village. But in 1890Judge Lincoln issued an order for thefirst election to be held in Pound-stone's Hall on January thirteenth in

1891. An election was held to elect apresident and six trustees. Later aclerk and a marshall were appointed.After this election and ruling, the city

began to take on certain city airs,

such as level sidewalks and otherthings.

Grand Ridge now has two goodchurches, and a good school, only athree year high school course, but wehope to have a four-year state accred-ited school course, and a new unit to

our school building, which we needvery badly.Grand Ridge had one hotel on Sil-

van Avenue, which is still there. An-other hotel of much fame was locatedon the Bloomington Road is the old

Good Tavern, just three and one-halfmiles north of Grand Ridge. It wasbuilt on top of the Covel creek hill. Alarge wooden buiding, some sixty byseventy feet. The front hall or office

opened into an elaborate bar-room orsaloon where most everything wasserved. Upstairs was a large dancehall where people for miles aroundcame to mingle and dance, as was thecustom at that time.

It has been long said that farmersand old settlers from all over Living-

ston County and the south of La Salle

County used to haul their grain all theway to Chicago over this very road.One fellow would have maybe six or

eight wagons tied one behind theother, the mules with ropes aroundtheir necks, and their necks would bevery sore from the long heavy pull.

The men would make this Good Hoteltheir stopping place both going andcoming from Chicago. There was nobridge at Ottawa and the loads wouldbe ferried across the Illinois. Thenon to Chicago over the pathless prai-ries. It was a long hard trail forboth men and mules.Some of the men, I have heard,

have come back as far as theGood Hotel with their hard-earnedmoney and then been robbed, andmany disappeared. Anyway, theirrelatives have come up from Bloom-ington looking for them but could find

no trace of them. Others would reachhome minus their money, but glad toescape with their lives.

Another hotel of evil repute was onedown south of Streator, built in amarsh or swamp. Very few trails led

into this place. Many people havebeen known to have gone to these ho-tels and never have been seen norheard of again.

I am glad to live near Grand Ridq-eon a good road" in good La Sallecounty, to have a good school, goodteachers and a good county superin-tendent. Hurrah for Grand Ridge!

THE STORY OF MR. J. C. BEACHBy Lyle Chambers, Dist. 30.

Mr. Beach's parents were Pennsyl-vania Germans. They came by theOhio river to Cairo, and then up theMississippi to St. Louis. They thencame up the Illinois river to Peru.Here Mr. Beach was born, ninety-twoyears ago.When Mr. Beach was a boy he lived

in a house made of huge timbers, cov-ered with rough, unpainted clapboards.The upper story, or the top part ofthe house, projected, so in case of In-dian attacks the pioneers could fire

down upon their faces and give thema fright they would remember.One day when he and some other

boys were out in the schoolyard ofPeru playine: marbles, a man came upand said. "Pretty good players, I see."The boys did not say any thing."I've been looking for a couple of

boys to drop corn," he said. "Do youknow where I could get someone?"

r

"I know where you can get one,"said Mr. Beach."Where?" said the man."I for one, and I think I know

where I can get another.""Good." said he.

Mr. Beach ran over to a friend'shouse to see if he would go. His com-panion said he would go.They all three went to Granville on

horseback. They only had one horse,so they had to take turns walking andriding.

When the boys began to work in thecornfield. Mr. Beach's friend lasted un-til ten o'clock the next morning. Hethen started for his home in Peru.They had four droppers and four

coverers in the cornfield at this time.In twelve days they planted one hun-dred acres.When Mr. Beach was going home

the man gave him six dollars, or fifty

83]

WashingtonA

TRUEPATRIOT

Q*Cn< ?*cscorr, ^h

cents a day, which the boy thoughtwas great pay at that time.

When Mr. Beach was twenty-oneyears of age he enlisted for the Civil

war.He was taken a prisoner in Tennes-

see, but paroled to Vicksburg, Miss.He still has the parole, signed by Gen-eral Jackson and General Armstrong.At Vicksburg they had to kill mules

to eat. Hardtack was another kind offood. They were large crackers. Onehardtack lasted each soldier abouteight days. They had plenty of cof-

fee and bacon.The seige of Vicksburg lasted forty-

seven days.After the Civil war Mr. Beach came

back to Lostant.John Richie laid out the plans for

Lostant in 1862. It was only eightblocks at that time, but has beenadded to every year.

There were few houses at that time.They were made of clapboards.

Mr. Beach now lives in Lostant. Heis very lively for a man of his age.We should appreciate this man verymuch because he helped rid this coun-try of the terrible evil of slavery.

THE BURLINGAMES OF EARLBy Mary Louise Sturgeon, Dist. 310

In the early fall of 1845 Mr. andMrs. Burlingame came to La Sallecounty. They settled about three-fourths of a mile north of where Earl-ville now stands. Cold weather sooncame and everyone suffered fromfierce snow blizzards. Mrs. Burlin-game sat up through the nights andkept the fire from going out. If a fire

went out it was hard to get it startedagain. Mr. Burlingame watched thecattle at night to keep them from go-ing out into the cold. The wolves werenear, too, and they were hungry.

Mr. Burlingame bought forty acresof land from the government. Hepaid twelve dollars an acre for it,

which was then a good price for land.The land is in Meriden township.

Mr. Burlingame went to Chicago toget the money. The governmentwould not accept paper money, there-fore it had to be paid in gold. Hisfamily worried while he was gone, be-cause much murdering and robberywas being done.When he returned from Chicago

with the gold, he had to take it toDixon to pay for the land. This jour-ney took from two to three days byhorse and wagon. He had his goldin a small trunk. On the way hestopped at a hotel for the night. The

hotel man asked him if he was goingto leave his trunk in the wagon. Mr.Burlingame laughed and said, "Noone would want what is in that trunk."He then went into the hotel, leavinghis trunk behind. When he awoke thenext morning his trunk was still

there.On their farm the Burlingames had

a dairy. They had thirty-five cows.The milk, butter and cheese was takento Ottawa and sold. They also sold

eggs for five cents a dozen. Theyraised many hogs. They butcheredthem and the pork was sent to

Chicago.In the summer time when the mos-

quitoes were bad, the people were at-

tacked by malaria fever. Mrs. Bur-lingame took it. She suffered everyother day from bad chills.

In 1857 the Burlingames built anew home. By this time they hadthree children. The two older chil-

dren went to the district school neartheir home, but the youngest child

went to the town school. Mr. Bur-lingame thought that she would get abetter education. When the childrenwere older they had parties, dancesand get-togethers at the farmers'houses. They also had spelling bees.

One time Earlville and Leland had a

[84]

spelling bee in which Lelandwas victorious.

In about 1849 Earlville

built a post office. In 1850three more buildings werebuilt. They were Wade's gen-eral store, S. T. Sutphen'shotel, and Harris' and Ben-nett's blacksmith shop.

Mr. Reed, a man of Earltownship, sold whiskey. Thiswas against the people'swishes and they made himleave town. Mr. Reed wasvery angry about this. Hehired Mr. Letz to blow upEarlville's schoolhouse. Mr.Reed and Mr. Letz were botharrested. They also receiveda sentence. This took place in 1858.

Earlville was increasing rapidly bynow. They had several stores, butquite a few were destroyed by fire.

In 1867 Union block was burned. In1875 the buildings south of here werealso burned. In 1894 the city hall wasburned. In 1899 the Wallace homewas destroyed by fire, too.

In 1840 the Methodist church wasorganized. The church was built in

1856. In 1852 the Presbyterianchurch was organized in the home ofSusie Kelly. The church was built in

1855. The Universalist church wasbuilt in 1869, the Congregational

WZfl^M

HEHELPED

TOWINOUR

JBERTchurch in 1870, and the Baptist churchin 1871.The first paper published here was

the Earlville Gazette. It was an in-

teresting paper and was enjoyed byeveryone who read it.

Mr. and Mrs. Burlingame havepassed away, but Miss Fanny Burlin-

game, their youngest child, is still

living. She is librarian at the Earl-

ville public library. Here she hasendeared herself to not only people

of her own generation, but also to theschool children who come to her for

books.

THE PRICHETTS OF DANABy Gladys Y. Klesath, Dist. 5

In Haneytown, now West Union,Pennsylvania, James Pritchett wasborn in a block house. The father diedwhile James was yet an infant, leav-ing the son, his mother, and the rest ofthe family to take care of the farm.As his mother was poor, his grand-parents, Daniel and Elizabeth Sims,raised him near what is now knownas Pleasant Valley, West Virginia.

His grandfather died when Jameswas sixteen. His grandmother livedbut a year, longer; therefore, at theage of seventeen he was forced tomake his own living.

He went to Moundsville, Virginia,now West Virginia, and learned theblacksmith trade. While an appren-tice during the harvest season he madeenough money for clothing; but other-wise he just earned his board androom. After he was of age, he visitedhis mother in Ohio. On his return hemarried Susan Marshall, on March 10,

1842. They lived at Pleasant Valley,

where he built a shop and began his

trade.

In 1844 their first son who wasnamed Wesley was born. Eight yearslater a second son, Robert, was bornto the family.

After war was declared James an-swered the call for volunteers enlist-

ing in Company B of the 7th VirginiaUnion Volunteer infantry. He wasappointed first sergeant of the com-pany until June, 1862 when he waspromoted to the rank of second lieu-

tenant. The regiment then was atHarrison's Landing, Virginia. In thefollowing September he was againpromoted, this time to the rank of first

lieutenant. Many times he acted ascaptain, once commanding his com-pany from Antietam to the battle ofFredericksburg, December 13, 1862.It was here that he received a woundthrough his right foot, hindering himfrom continuing the march with his

company then in active service with

[85]

the army on the Potomac river. Heresigned his commission June 30, 1863and returned home.Wesley though not old enough en-

listed with several other young school-mates in Company C of the 12th WestVirginia infantry. He contracted ty-phoid-pneumonia while in active ser-vice in the Shenandoah Valley and wasplaced in a hospital at Cumberland,Maryland. Later he was transferredto Winchester by an ambulance withseveral others. He was the only oneto reach there alive. His motherheard of his illness and went to hisaid, where she found him in a seriouscondition. His discharge from servicefollowed owing to disability.

During the year the father and sonwere at war, Robert went to schooland learned to read and write. Laterhe taught his mother who had alwaysbeen illiterate, to do so.

In January, 1864, James came toMinonk, Illinois, to visit former Vir-ginia friends. It was then that hebought a farm one mile south and one-half mile east of where Dana is now.The following fall he came back againbringing his family to live. Theycame across the mountains in a largecaravan with many other pioneers ofthis vicinity.

The first winter they lived on whatis now known as the Grayhack farmeast of Dana, with one other largefamily. Robert told many times later,

about the snow coming in throughthe cracks of the attic and coveringtheir beds, which kept them warm.The next spring, 1865, they moved

to James' own farm where they con-tinued to reside until 1890, when theymoved to Dana. They lived on thesame place where his grandson C. J.

Pritchett now lives.

He died with a lung disease March23, 1893, at the age of seventy-four.Those to survive him were his twosons, Wesley and Robert.

On December 6, 1868 Wesley mar-ried Miss Texanna Clegg. Soon afterthey moved to Kansas where he builtpaper mills and sold them to differentbusiness men. He then moved toDana where he engaged in businessuntil his wife died November, 1876.

Not long after he went to Washing-ton, living there several years; after-wards he located at Weiser, Idaho.He then engaged in farming with hisson, but owing to bad health returnedin 1914, making his home with hisdaughter Mrs. G. H. Bane. Two yearslaer he died with an attack of apo-plexy at the age of seventy-two.

Shortly after Robert's parents mov-ed here he attended school one milesouth of where Dana is now. Amonghis teachers were: C. R. Danforth, ofMinonk, and Miss Fannie Grove, ofRutland. Later he taught school fora few terms before entering partner-ship with William Frink. Later Mr.Frink withdrew from business.

After Robert's marriage to MissElla C. Laughlin, November 14, 1877,he added a grocery store to his origi-

nal drug store. Later he started ageneral store.

They were the parents of one son,Cassius J. Pritchett, Sept. 1, 1878,After he returned from school hisfather opened a private bank on theeast side of his general store build-

ing. In 1921 they organized the StateBank of Dana.Robert was Justice of the Peace,

clerk of the high school board, andwas Postmaster for twenty years, re-tiring ten years before his death.

He was taken to the hospital, Sep-tember 12, to be treated for the aftereffects of the flu in the former partof that year, which he never fully re-

covered. He died November 11, 1924.

Those to survive him are his wifeElla, and his son, Cassius, who are

still residents of Dana.

EXPERIENCES WITH WOLVESBy Charline Curtis, Dist. 65

Mr. William Curtis, my great-grand-uncle, was a pioneer from New Eng-land. He came to this section of Illi-

nois when he was nine years old. Hehad a great many adventures with thewolves, which lived in the countrythen. These are two of his experi-ences:One gray, bleak morning in Janu-

ary, a lean, hungry timber wolf creptin through the gate of Mr. Curtis'

chicken yard. Stealthily it crawledtowards the roost where the chickenssat with their heads under their wings.When Mr. Curtis came out it madefor the woods with a chicken betweenits strong jaws.

"Here, Bill! here, Tom!" he shoutedto the dogs as he ran for a horse.

Jumping on a horse without saddle or

bridle he dashed after the dogs, whichwere pursuing the wolf. Tearing

[86]

through the forest in the gray of

dawn after a timber wolf with no rifle

was nothing less than what one wouldcall excitement. He ducked as manybranches as he could without losinghis balance and bravely faced the oneshe could not escape. Suddenly thehorse's ears went up and his nostrils

began to quiver. He began slowingdown, despite the blows Mr. Curtisgave him. Suddenly they came to anopening in the forest where on a sheetof ice the wolf stood snarling at thebarking dogs. The frightened horseshied clear of the ice, leaving Mr.Curtis sprawling in the snow. Think-ing he could help the dogs, he grabbedthe wolf by the tail, but instead thedogs engaged in a fight of their own."Now I'm in a pretty fix," Mr. Cur-

tis thought as he pulled the growlingwolf about the ice. "My only chanceis to crack his head on the ice." Sodoing so he swung the wolf above his

head and brought him down with tre-

mendous force, letting them down into

three feet of ice water. Strugglingdesperately he tried to get a stranglehold on the wolf but failed. Thenseeing his chance he grasped thewolf's head and shoved it under thewater. Two minutes later he crawled

out of the cold water, leaving thedead wolf under the freezing surfaceof the pond.Another incident of Mr. Curtis' was

with wolves also. He was returninghome after a friendly visit with neigh-bors who lived more than a mileaway, when the faint howl of a wolfdrifted to him on the cold, bracingair. He walked on, not thinking muchabout it until the howl grew closer.

How ghostly the moon made every-thing look. It seemed to make every-thing look like an animal gettingready to jump at him. On he trudgedthrough the cold, black forest.

Suddenly, as he came out of a clear-

ing, he felt as though something wasfollowing him. Turning, he peered in-

to the black forest and saw manygreen balls glowing at him. Heturned to continue on his way, butfound it was blocked by more greenballs. Then out of the forest emergedthe lithe, gray bodies of ten or moretimber wolves. Casually taking off

one of his heavy leather boots he be-gan slowly advancing at one of thewolves. Swinging the boot left andright he scattered the hungry wolvesand ran back to the neighbors wherehe spent the remainder of the night.

LOSTLAND'S CHURCH AND CEMETERYBy Mary Solon, Dist. 36

The cemetery known as Lostlands is

located in Eagle township about five

miles west and two miles north ofStreator. It is known as the Lost-lands because when the plans weremade for this territory it seems theywere lost and this section was left

off the map and became known asLostlands. Today it is still called that.The land first belonged to a man

named Golliher. The people boughtthe land for a cemetery and a church.They though the land there suitablefor the purpose because it was highand rolling. In those days tile wasunknown.The first person to be buried there

was one of Frank Kennedy's children,from near Grand Ridge.

Gradually the cemetery filled up andmore land had to be purchased in

order to enlarge the cemetery.Many settlers moved away, but

their bodies were brought back herefor burial. People from Streator, Chi-cago, Spring Valley and Lostant wereinterred here. Many people livingaround here have friends or relativesburied there.

One will find many very splendidmonuments in the cemetery. Theneighborhood is about sixty years old.

Land was purchased from the sameman, named Golliher, for a church,to be built. A few years later halfof the church was moved to Kangley.The rest was left to Patrick Whalento be used as a crib and granary. Thebishop gave them permission to movethe church.Most of the people who settled here

were Catholics, and a missionarywould come to say mass. Before thechurch was built mass was said in

the homes of the settlers. FatherCallegan was one of the first prieststo say mass here. Mass was said atBelford's, also at my great-grand-uncle's, whose name was MichaelPrendergast.While Father Callegan was on his

missions he often received kind recep-tions at Belford's, Conness', Kane's,Coffey's, Berry's, Finn's and most all

the other settlers. The mass wasgenerally said at Belford's. The Bel-fords never felt prouder than whenFather John O'Reily or Father Quig-

[87]

ley or Father Joseph Alizeri designedto make their log house a church.

In about 1860 they built a building,

which is now the property of FrankWhalen, on the south side of the roadacross from the cemetery. This build-

ing was used for a church, school andgranary.A funny incident I have heard about

was when one of the teachers, whosename was Mr. Corcoran, would leavethe room to have a smoke, the chil-

dren would hide their books in theoats.

About five years later, or around1865, they built a church in the westend 'of the cemetery. The priest

came from Ottawa with a horse andbuggy. The priest who came waseither Rev. Father Terry or Rev.Father McDunna. People often camehere who lived fifteen miles away to

hear the holy sacrifice of the mass.

At first the priest came once a month.Then later he came every two weeks.Finally they started coming everySunday. Soon Father Egan was sentto the mission to be pastor of thechurch.

All the people soon learned whatwonderful work Father Egan was do-ing. Very soon enough money hadbeen saved to build a church, whichis now at the present location, five

miles west of Streator on the hardroad. The church is known as theAnnunciation church of Eagle.

Father Egan was pastor of theEagle church for forty-one years. Hewas born in Cambridge, Mass., in

1851. He was ordained in 1882. Afterthat he came to Eagle, where he waspastor until he died, in 1923.The part of the church that was

moved to Kangley still remains there,where holy mass is said every Sunday.

MR. MYERS' BOYHOOD EXPERIENCESBy William Woodward, Dist. 67

In early days coal was taken fromthe bed of the Vermillion river. Whenthe water was low they would get thecoal by scraping the mud away andshoveling it into their wagons. Some-times the vein of coal ran into thebank of the river. The miners wouldthen have to dig into the side of thebank to get the coal. Afterwards theydug from the top instead of the side.

Mr. John Myers, of Ransom, had a

thrilling experience in one of theseold coal mines. He was then a smalllad of about eleven years of age. Anold miner invited him to go into themine with him, to which he readilyagreed. The miner led the way withthe lantern, while Mr. Myers tried to

follow, but soon became lost, for hecould not walk as fast as the miner.He could not see, because of the dark-ness and so bumped into the sides andskinned his knees when he fell overthe rails. He was just ready to crywhen he saw the light ahead, whichwas a very welcome sight. He neverwent into a mine again.The first school Mr. Myers attended

was on his father's land. It had beenthere a few years before he startedschool. It was the first school of

Dist. 67. It was a rude building, withthe boards running up and down. It

was never painted and became veryblack. The floor was full of slivers.

They used to have benches along thewalls which were made of rough pine

boards. They were not fastened down,

which made them easy to knock over.

In this old school there were no black-boards. The children owned slates

and slate pencils, which served for thesame purpose. The county superin-tendent visited the school just oncea year. Some of the pupils weretwenty years old before they gradu-ated. Most of the boys had to stayhome through the spring and summermonths to work. No boy who coulddrive a team of horses ever thought of

going to school from May 1st throughcorn husking. The largest numberof pupils was fifty-four, the largestin the school's history. The boys'favorite games were baseball andboxing.The teacher always kept plenty of

switches by his desk, which he oftenused. One of the teachers did not dothis but pulled the pupils' ears. Oncewhen the teacher did this to JohnMyers he ran out to the little shackwhere wood was kept. The teachersaw where he went and came after

him. He jumped in a large barrel,

which tipped over. He found himselfstanding on his head with the barrel

over him. The teacher gave the barrel

and kick and out he rolled. He gotquietly up and went into the school-

house to have his ears pulled again.

Another incident he had when just

starting school was. he could not un-derstand English very well, but spokeGerman. On his way to school he fell

and got his face dirty. The teacher

[88]

told him to wash his face, but he wentout and washed his feet, for feetmeans "feese" in German, whichsounds just like face. When he camein with a dirty face again the teacherasked him why he didn't do what shetold him to. He said, "I did," and heldup one of his feet. The teacherlaughed, and so did the pupils, but hedidn't know what it was all about.

A few years later a new school wasbuilt on the Denaple land. This schoolwas later moved to where it nowstands, on the Conard land, which waswillingly donated as long as it wouldbe used for school purposes. A fewyears after the school was moved, ahall was built on, which was and still

is used as a cloak room. This is theschool, Dist. 67, to which I now go.

EARLY EXPERIENCES IN LA SALLE COUNTYBy Giles W. Sullivan, Dist. 12

My father was very glad to relate

to me the following experiences of theearly days of the Sullivan family,spent in La Salle county. A greatmany changes have taken place sincethose early days. A great number of

the people living in this communitywere Irish. Their main food was po-tatoes, usually cooked with the jacketson. The Irish people believed the po-tatoes tasted better and were easilydigested when cooked that way, andused to say, "We are from Ireland,county Donnigal, where they eat thepotatoes, skins and all!"

Times were hard in those days,much work and little play, with verylow wages.My father remembers the old home-

made tallow candles used by the fam-ily. Usually a lamp was burned Sun-day evening or when company came.

It was in 1895 that my father cutpoles out of a grove on a farm aboutthree miles from Wenona. They weretaken to the old Sullivan farm, sevenand one-half miles west of Streator,with wagons and teams. The work ofbuilding a new barn began March 12,1895. Four men were employed onthis building. It took three months todo the work. On June 25, 1895, it wascompleted. It was thirty feet wideand forty feet long. The drivewaywas eight feet wide. After the barnwas finished the neighbors had twoold-time barn dances. The first barndance was given on July 7, 1895. TheHoarty four-piece orchestra, consist-ing of Tom Hoarty, Sam Hopper, Jeff.

Eward and John McDonald, furnishedthe music. Callers were in abundancein those days for the old-time squaredances. Young and old people at-tended these dances, and all enjoyedthemselves. No one was a wall-flowernor no one was slighted; everyone hada chance to dance.No rain had fallen from March until

June. The men building the barn

lost no time on account of wet weath-er. The fields were very dry, theroads were dusty. Rain fell on thefirst night of the barn dance. Therewas great rejoicing. No one cared if

his new hat or clothes were spoiled.

Everyone was glad to see the welcomerain.

This barn had been in service forthirty-four years. On July 15, 1929, it

burned to the ground. While the menwere threshing oats on the farm, acylinder tooth threw a spark throughthe blower and the straw caught fire.

The barn and several other buildingswere destroyed by fire. I was livingwith my parents on the farm at thetime and I remember well the day thefire occurred. People were runninghere and there to extinguish the fire

and save the out-buildings. The windwas busily blowing from the south-east, so all the work was in vain.Horses hitched to hay racks loadedwith bundles of straw, became fright-ened and were rushing around theyard and down the road. People hadto get out of the way to avoid acci-

dents. Luckily no one was injured.There now stands a modern barn,

built by William Ahearn, where theold structure had burned. It is forty-five feet wide and fifty feet long. It

has a driveway seven feet wide. It is

one of the latest models, containingelectric lights, cow stanchions andportable feed boxes.The young men and boys of those

days thought they were kings andprinces if they owned a horse and top-buggy. My father owned a fine, beau-tiful driving horse and a top-buggy.He drove at a fast speed when he first

started, but as the horse got tired thespeed slackened. They thought eigh-teen or twenty miles per hour exceed-ingly fast. Later on automobilescame into use. My father bought onecalled in those days the E., M. and F.,

now known as the Studebaker. It was

[89]

quite hard to get acquainted with anauto after so many experiences withthe horse and buggy.

Fishing was a sport enjoyed by theboys. After school closed for the sum-mer vacation, nearly every boy gothis hook and line and went to thecreek.

I have tried to relate some of the

early experiences of the early daysin La Salle county. Many hardshipsand dangers were endured by the earlysettlers, but they had the strength,courage and good will to carry on thegreat work they had begun. We, like

they, need courage and endurance tocarry on the great problems which arefacing America today .

THE OLD STONE MILLBy Lola Mae Kirsteatter, Dist. 227.

In 1838 James Newton Reeder hada sawmill built. It was built a little

south of Troy Grove, along the Little

Vermillion. This sawmill was situatedabout fifty feet off the banks of thestream and made the lumber for themajority of the houses in Troy Grove.Some of the houses were the

"Green Mountain Tavern," "The WildBill House" (they are both gone),"The Carey House" and "AdairHouse" (which are still standing).The lumber for these four houses washauled from Chicago. The mill ranuntil 1857, then it stopped and lay idle

till Michael Meinhardt bought it, in

1860. He tore down the sawmill andbuilt a stone flour mill. He was verywise, because to build a firm founda-tion he dug about two feet down in

the earth and struck solid rock. Hethen built the mill on it. This mill

was finished and went into operationin 1861. Downstairs the wagons drovein and dumped their wheat; then it

went to the bins, up through the ele-

vator and then down into the burrs.

The burrs were two great, tight-fit-

ting stone wheels; one turns one wayand one the other. This mashed the

wheat into fine powder. Then it

passed through a fine screen made of

silk, and before this powder, called

flour, was considered fine enough to

use, it had to be sifted through thissilk sifter.

Michael Meinhardt ran th3 mill un-til 1897. Then P. J. Paxton bought it

and ran it till 1898 by water power;then he ran it by steam.The mill was on a little upward

slope from the creek. So to get waterto run down into the mill pond he hadto go up stream about a mile to builda dam and dig the ditch or race tobring the water to the water-wheel.The mill stopped in 1904 or 1905.

Mr. Burris owns it now. He does notrun it any more. But he keeps pigsdownstairs and hay upstairs. Thereis none of the machinery left inside,

only the elevators. The burrs are ly-

ing outside now. They are all rusty,and you couldn't tell now what theywere.The dam is all gone and you couldn't

tell where it stood. Right near thereis an old ash tree grown up since themill stopped. There is a rock a little

ways up stream that sticks about afoot above the water, but when thedam was there Albert and Will Fostercould just stick their heads above thewater.

Michael Meinhardt lived about one-half mile east of Troy Grove. Thehouse is not standing now, but if yougo there you can still see kitchen uten-sils lying around.

THE GOLD RUSH OF 1849

By Helen George, Dist. 296.

Among the important and excitingdiscoveries during the early history of

our country was the discovery of goldin California in 1848. Even though it

was in the days before the telegraph,telephone or radio, the news wasquickly brought back to the East. Thethought of gold shut out all ideas of

dangers and hardships which mighthave to be met. Men went wild overthe idea of getting riches.

Among the early settlers in the

East was my great-grandfather, Hor-

ace B. George, who was born in Jeffer-

son county, New York, in 1824. Bythis time the East was beginning to

be more heavily populated. Better op-portunities seemed to be had in the

Middle West, where the fertile prairie

lands were being taken by the settlers

moving in. So at the age of twenty-four he came to La Salle county. Theforest lands in this region were rap-idly being taken and cleared by thefarmers. Saw-mills were buirt alongmany of the streams. One of these

[90]

was on the Fox river in Dayton town-ship. My great-grandfather workedin this mill.

When the news of the great discov-

ery came, it seemed a great oppor-tunity, so my great-grandfather left

his work and went to the gold fields.

He bought up what tools, food andsupplies he needed. He traveled witha group in a covered wagon train. It

was a slow and weary trip. They hadto be in fear of the Indians. Oftenthey were hungry and thirsty.

Some of them became sick and died.

Others turned back.When he finally got to California he

saw that there were a great manyother people coming from all parts of

the country. A town had sprung uparound the gold fields over night.

People lived in anything they couldfind. More came every day. When hehad been there some time things grewworse. People started stealing goldfrom others. Many men gambled andlost all their money. A vigilance com-mittee was formed by the leading men.They were to keep law and order.They hanged the worst men.On returning he brought with him

some gold nuggets. He certainly wasproud of them. He was always readyto show them and tell of his adven-tures. He had one nugget made into

a ring and another into a pin. Thesepieces of jewelry are still in the fam-ily, as my great-uncle, W. C. Cove, hasthem now.

When Mr. George came back he ob-tained 160 acres of land from the gov-ernment in 1853 or '54. His brotherHarvey settled there until 1863. Hisparents were Gilman and FannieGeorge; the former was born in Ver-mont and the latter in New Hamp-shire. They had five children—Moses,Harvey, Horace, the subject of this

sketch, Mary, and Daniel. Horce mar-ried Miss Elizabeth Stadden. She wasborn in 1832. Mr. and Mrs. Georgehave three children—William, who is

dead; Ida B., wife of W. C. George,who now lives in Leland, and EdgarC, my grandfather, now dead, used to

live in Leland also.

William Stadden, son of Mrs. H. B.George, and father-in-law of H. B.George, was born in Newark, Lackingcounty, Ohio, December 5, 1808. Hewas the son of John and Elizabeth(Green) Stadden. He came to LaSalle county in 1831 and settled in

Dayton township. During the BlackHawk war he moved his family toSpringfield, returning two years later.

In 1834 and 1835 he was sheriff of

La Salle county, and in 1838 waselected to the state senate and served

a term of three years. In 1848 he wasa member of the constitutional con-

vention at Springfield. He died Oct.

13, 1849. Their family of seven chil-

dren are Mary, Jonathan, Elizabeth,

Mrs. George, of Leland, 111., William,Maria, Aaron and Richard.

MY GRANDFATHER'S EARLY FARMINGBy Gerald Maubach, Dist. 19

Mr. Frank Ehrnthaller, who is mygrandfather, is an old pioneer. Hetold me quite a few interesting thingsof pioneer life.

In about 1865 he came to centralIllinois and with his parents startedfarming on fifty acres, with five hoes,two rakes, two oxen, one plow with awooden moldboard, and an A-shapedharrow.The plows had iron shares, which

were obtained at the nearest village.

They then cut down a tree and hewedout a wooden moldboard with ax andknife.

When this prairie was unbrokenthey called it "raw prairie." Whenthey wanted to cultivate a part of it

they would have to "sub-soil," or, thatis, to take a large plow drawn by twoor three yoke of oxen and this wayplow the ground about two or threeinches deep and let the ground dry

out, then come along later in the samefurrow and plow up the rich soil,

which was now visible. This made it

more easy to cultivate. They alsohad a two-shovel plow with woodenmoldboards, which they used in plow-ing in the fall after the wheat washarvested.

In the timber-land, after a few treeshad been cut down and used as fire

wood and other things, they wouldhave several yoke of oxen there andthen would pull stumps to clear theland. Where it was too rolling andhilly, after the trees were cut down,blue grass would become so thick thatit looked like a carpet.When it was time to sow wheat or

oats they would get out with theirwooden plows and an A-shaped har-row. These harrows were made bynailing wood, six inches square, to-

gether and then nailing cross pieces

[91]

on them to hold them in shape. Theteeth were made of wood and wereeasily broken. He mentioned that at

one time he ran over a stone andbroke the teeth out of the harrow. Hisfather made him stay up all night to

fix the harrow. He had to whittle outteeth and put them in place. Theyhad regular augers to bore holes, butthe "beginners," as he called them,had to heat iron and burn themthrough the wood to put the teeth in.

The two-shovel plow was drawn byone horse or an ox. When they sowedwheat the whole family got out, withsacks tied over their shoulders, andthen scattered the grain with their

hands. Such a thing as a seeder wasunknown.When planting corn, the soil was

prepared and furrows were made, thenthey would measure off so that each

hill would be even lengthwise andcrosswise. After dropping the kernelsin a hole they would cover the kernelswith a hoe.They only plowed their corn twice,

and the way it was plowed was thatthe plow was drawn by one horse oran ox. They went down one side ofthe row and came up on the otherside. This way having one row ofcorn plowed in one round, or once upand once down the row.

Grandfather said that when the flies

were bad the oxen would throw uptheir tails and run with plow and all

to "buffalo yalls" or ponds of water,which were deepened by buffaloesstanding and lying in them. Some ofthese ponds covered from three to five

acres of ground.The only kind of fences were made

of boards. To keep the chickens andswine in they put the boards closertogether at the bottom than at thetop. Most fences were about four anda half feet high. In order to get theboards, they had to cut trees and haulthem to the saw-mill, which wasturned by water power in some largecreek or small river. The fences wereput up in pieces called "two-post pan-els;" that is, two posts were nailedon to the boards and then set into theground. It takes three posts to makea panel, but two are all that are re-

quired, because one end was nailedto the other panel.My grandfather worked hard many,

many days farming in this manner.But in later years he was financially

able to buy a farm for himself nearToluca. He now lives in Toluca andhis farm he has placed in the handsof his children.

From my grandfather's story ofearly life I learn that "hardships andtrials make an honest and successful

AN EARLY PRESBYTERIAN CHURCHBy Zelma Hansen, Dist. 117

The First Presbyterian church of

Brookfield township was organized in

Ottawa in 1833. The church organiza-

tion was moved in 1840 to Brookfield

township because all their principal

members who supported it lived south

and east of the Illinois river. It wassix and eight miles east and south

that the people lived. They neededthe church nearer, because the roadswere so bad that it was difficult to

get to church in rainy weather. Dur-

ing the spring and autumn monthsroads were almost impassable.

Because very little of the land wastiled there were sink holes and bogsin the road. Also, the only means of

transportation was by horses. Mostof the families used wagons, althougha few soon procured carriages, whichwere considered luxuries.

The church building was not broughtfrom Ottawa, but the membershipwas organized there. They worship-ped in schoolhouses until they decided

[92]

to build this church. Thesame building is still in use.

When first built they usedtimber from one of the origi-

nal timber growths. Therewas quite a large growth of

trees along the Illinois river.

They gradually built thechurch larger as the member-ship grew. Later it was re-

modeled in keeping with thetimes. It always has beenkept in good condition.The Brookfield church cost

one thousand, five hundreddollars. Part of the moneywas from a loan from thePresbyterian church office,

which did not have to be paidback as long as it remained a Pres-byterian church.

There is not a definite idea as towho built this church, but the Rev.George Marsh had a great influencein building it.

When the people of the First Pres-byterian church started to hold meet-ings there, there were only thirtypeople attending the services. Thisincluded only a few families, as fam-ilies were very large.

The first pastor of the Presbyterianchurch was the Rev. George Marsh.He came here as a missionary. Thenhe began preaching sermons for thepeople of Brookfield township. Heoriginally lived in Norfolk county,Massachusetts. When twenty yearsof age he moved to the state of NewYork. When he was thirty-eight yearsof age he came to Illinois and settledon section sixteen of Brookfield town-ship. This was his by right of claim.He had studied for the ministry in

Massachusetts before coming here andwas ordained in Ottawa in 1847 or1848.Three of the Marshes were clerks

in different sessions. Rev. GeorgeMarsh was clerk of the session forthirty years. His son, John JamesMarsh, was elected clerk when his

father resigned. He signed the bookfor thirty years. Then John JamesMarsh's son, George Marsh, was clerkfor many years.They have just recently remodeled

it. They remodeled it in 1915. Theyput it on a cement foundation andbuilt many other rooms in it to beused for departmental work. It looksvery modern now.They have erected a memorial win-

dow for the Rev. George Marsh. Theyhave his name printed on the window.They have changed all the otherthings in the church except the pulpit,

which was there when the Rev. GeorgeMarsh first came.

THE EBERSOL FARMBy Lillian Landers, Dist. 103

Grand Rapids township, which is

number thiry-two, is located in thesoutheastern portion of La Salle coun-ty. It lies in range four, and is most-ly made up of prairie land, but has atimber grove along its main stream,Covel creek. Along this creek on sec-tions six and seven, is a grove of treescalled EbersoPs grove. It was nearthis grove that most of the early set-

tlements were made.One of the first builders near this

grove was Henry Hibbard, who cameto the Ebersol farm from Cincinnati,Ohio, in 1827. Later he made a claimon section five in 1829, which is calledEbersol farm. Two years later, in

1831, he sold the claim to Disney, whoin turn sold it to John McKernan.

Mr. and Mrs. Ebersol came to Illi-

nois from Harrisburg, Pa. Mr. Eber-sol was a blacksmith by trade, al-

though a farmer most of his life.

When he came to Illinois he broughtwith him his anvil and some self-madetools. Some of his other tools werea hammer and a two-tined fork,which are now in the hands of Mrs.Mary Baker, an eighty-five year oldresident of 127 Campbell street, Ot-tawa, Illinois.

The first scouring plow was ownedand used by Mr. Ebersol, and the first

revolving horse rake owned and used

[93]

by him also were some more of hisold-fashioned tools he brought withhim. His first sulky rake was usedthe first time by Mr. William C. Moorein 1876.

Mr. Ebersol continued to make year-ly improvements on his farm. Heplanted an orchard in 1830 with theaid of his self-made tools.

The family home of Mr. and Mrs.Ebersol was made happy by sevenvery lovely children—four boys andthree girls. The oldest child was A.M. Ebersol, who wrote a brief historyof the town of Grand Rapids, from1829 to 1871, including the Ebersolfarm. He married Miss C. C. Whittle-sey in 1844. The marriage ceremonywas performed in Princeton by theReverend Owen Lovejoy, the re-nowned Abolutionist.

If one should walk through the tim-ber along Covel creek he would seean old path, known at one time as aChicago Trail. This trail was madeby the early settlers and was a meansof conveying their grain-loaded wag-ons to Chicago. These loaded wagonswere drawn by oxen, which were com-mon in those days.

Roping oxen was not a very easymatter. It was necessary to put therope over the head of one of the oxen

and then over the other. Their tailswere tied together to keep the oxenfrom stepping away from each other.It was sometimes known as the mar-ket trip, which took ten days, formany times they would get stuck inthe mud while crossing a slough. Theothers joined teams and pulled themout. Always a lot of people went to-gether for that reason. Camp life wasenjoyed on these trips, although theydid have to sleep under 1 their wagonsinstead of in tents.Wheat was at that time thirty-two

to forty cents a bushel. A price offifty to sixty cents was a real surprise.

Besides sowing wheat, the farmersplanted corn. The kernels of cornwere placed in a gash in the ground,the gash being made by hitting theax in the ground. With another blowof the ax the kernels were covered.Cultivation was almost impossible,due to many growing vines.

There is also a graveyard located onthe northwestern portion of this farm.Many of the tombstones are sunk intothe ground, but some are still stand-ing around the graveyard, and it is

mostly used for a pasture.Mr. Harold Richolson owns this

historic farm, although T. A. Holmannow resides on it.

PIONEERS OF DANABy Rath Dunham, Dist. 5

On May 29, 1828, John Henry Mar-ti-, was born at Fort Peoria, Illinois,

during the Black Hawk war. In 1832Elizabeth Jane Moulten was born in

Woodford county.In the year of 1849 these two young

people were married. They went tohousekeeping in a log cabin and herethey lived for several years.

Like all early pioneers, they hadthe desire to seek a new home. InMarch of 1856, with their four smallchildren, taking what belongings theycould and loading them, they startedout with a team and covered wagon.Heading northeast they drove throughthe timber, and coming across theopen prairie, for there were no roadsat that time.

After several days of hard travelthey came to a stretch of land on thenorth bank of a stream. This streamis ' now known at Diamond creek, lo-

cated one-half mile south of Dana.Here they decided to settle.

These first pioneers of the vicinity

of Dana were my great-grandparents.The youngest child, who was just six

weeks old at the time of immigration,is my grandfather, Albert H. Martin.

This tract of land on which theysettled was 160 acres of the finest

land in Groveland township. It is thenorthwest quarter of section 25. Afterproving this claim, a deed was givento great-grandfather Martin by Presi-dent Buchanan, under the "HomesteadAct." This deed is still in the posses-sion of his daughter, Mrs. WilliamBoyd, of Dana.When they finally arrived at their

new destination the first things nec-essary were food and shelter. Theshelter was provided for by great-grandfather Martin building a four-room house with what lumber could besecured. For food, wild fruits, berriesand game were available. Great-grandfather Martin rode horsebackeight miles to a small settlement, nowcalled Minonk, to get other foods thatwere needed.When the time came, great-grand-

father Martin broke prairie; then veg-etables and grains were planted. Fromthe wild fruits and berries great-

[94]

grandmother made jams and jellies.

The vegetables raised were stored forwinter use in large holes in theground lined with prairie grass thencovered with dirt. By doing this,

things were kept from freezing.Sheep were raised and the wool

from them was taken to a woolen millat Lacon, Illinois. Here it was woveninto cloth, from which their clothingwas made.At first great-grandmother made

the clothing for the family by hand,but after a few years great-grandfa-ther took a load of oats to Chicagowith a team and wagon. He sold theoats and with part of the money pur-chased a sewing machine. He thenspent several days in the city learninghow to use the machine. After learn-ing to use it he returned home andtaught his wife what he had learnedabout the machine. As this was thefirst and only sewing machine at this

time in the neighborhood, the neigh-bors living on nearby farms wouldbring their sewing to great-grand-mother Martin and she would do it

for them.The rest of the grain raised was

taken to Ottawa and Streator by teamand wagon. Then on the return trips

great-grandfather would bring backcoal for winter use.

Other families now began to arrivein this vicinity, and in 1865 a Chris-

tian church was built. The land forthe church, for the cemetery close by,and land where the present gradeschool stands, was given by great-grandfather Martin. These were onthe northwest side of his quarter sec-tion.

Great-grandfather Martin built anelevator for the farmers to store theirgrain in. So that he could be nearthis elevator to run it, he moved in1875 with his family to a new home,one-half mile north of the first home.The home in town is still standing.As years went by more settlers

came to Dana, so great-grandfatherMartin sold parts of his farm to in-

dividual people, who built their homeshere.The town was first named Martin,

for the first settler, but the name waslater changed to Conklin, and then toDana, the present name. It wasnamed Dana after the superintendentof the C, P. & S. W. railroad.The town had grown until there

were enough people here and the townwas incorporated in 1873. Manybuildings now were built and Dana be-came a thriving village.

The elevator which Mr. C. B. Saueruses to store grain in was built byDavid Cooper and my grandfather,Albert H. Martin. There are alsoother houses in and around Dana thatmy grandfather built.

ADVENTURES OF THE HALL GIRLSBy Junior Keith, Dist. 203

This is the story as related by Ra-chel Hall to my grandfather. Theformer was seven days a captive ofthe Indians, immediately following themassacre of 1832. She was fifteen

years of age and her sister Sylvia wasseventeen years old. They witnessedthe ruthless destruction of their par-ents, brothers, sisters and others ofthe little group who had settled at thespot which is now Shabbona Park, afew miles north of the village ofHarding.A group of Sac and Fox Indians,

who lived some distance up the creek,had been deprived of their fish on ac-count of a dam which had been con-structed across the creek at the settle-

ment of the whites. This made themquite indignant. One day two youngbraves went to the settlement to visit

a man by the name of Davis, who wasa large, strong man. During theirvisit the two braves were misused, andfinally driven out of the settlement

because they were getting in lovewith the two girls. This was morethan the Indians could stand, so onMay 20th they took the settlement bysurprise.

Rachel Hall's little son and hischum, George Keith, who is now mygrandfather, used to coax her to tell

the story of the Indian massacre,which she did many times.With tears in her eyes, she told of

how she saw her own grandmothershot through the head while she laysick in bed. The nightcap that shewore at the time she was shot is still

in existence, showing the hole wherethe bullet passed through. She alsosaw Pettigrew's little boy taken bythe legs and his head knocked over astump by a large Indian. ThenDavis' little boy was shot by an In-dian, while two other Indians held theboy by each hand.

After the Indians had killed mostof the settlers they took the two girls,

[95]

who had been spared, placed them onponies and struck out with the twogirls in the middle of the procession.Their ponies were led by two stalwartIndians. One of the Indians had a scalphanging from his belt in plain viewof the girls all the time. Later on thegirls found out that it was their ownmother's scalp.

There were about forty braves in

the party. Once when Rachel hadbeen riding on one of the ponies formost of the day, she made signs to

let the Indians know that she wastired. She was then taken off thepony and allowed to walk. Towardevening they came upon a streamwhich they decided to cross beforecamping. The water was three feet

deep and since Rachel was walking,she was forced to walk through orwade the stream instead of riding, asmost of the others did. They campedon a green knoll, and when it becamequite dark the Indians held a wardance, which lasted only a short time.

In the morning the girls expectedthey would have to travel immediate-ly, but a new sight met their eyes.

The Indians cleared a piece of groundwhich was about ninety feet in cir-

cumference. In the center of this

they placed a pole with a spear on the

top of the pole and a scalp fastenedto the end of the spear. Severalspears were stuck in the groundaround the pole with hearts of thepeople who had been killed at themassacre placed on the points of thespears. The girls were then placednear the pole while the Indians dancedaround them with their spears stick-

ing into the ground near the girls,

who were shaking with fear.

After their performance, the In-dians* packed up and started on theirjourney. They traveled for six days,camping each night wherever theyhappened to stop.

One evening two Indians came intocamp. One had a person's head tiedonto a stick, which hung over hisshoulder. The head was placed upona pole and a war dance immediatelytook place. During the war dance,Girty, who was the leader of thesquad, asked one of them if it was aman's head. Upon being notified thatit was a man's head, he then askedwhom the person was. The Indianstold him it was Reverend Paine'shead. Upon hearing this, Girty grewangry because his followers had slain

the missionary of the Indians and wasdetermined to kill the one who killed

his friend, but was detained by theothers and the Indian who had slain

Paine was forced to leave the partyand set out alone.

The following morning the partyagain resumed their journey. Duringthe day, as they were stopping to rest,

a group of white men came upon theparty. They came especially to getthe girls, but they made believe thatthey were just a few wandering menwho happened to come upon the In-

dians' party. The men tried to makethe Indians believe that they were in

love with the girls and wanted to takethem along so they could marrythem. After much consultation theIndians gave the girls up for the pres-ents the whites promised them.

THE OLDEST CHURCH IN LELANDBy Delia Wold, Dist. 319

The oldest church in Leland was or-

ganized in 1847 under the name of

"Scandinavian Evangelical LutheranCongregation" in the residence of

Holjie Bakke, the great grandfatherof Kinney Kettleson, who now lives

about a mile straight west of Bakeron the very same site. Another manwho helped to organize it was Helleck

Farley, a great-grandfather of Fre-

mont Farley, who lives not far awayfrom where the church was organized.

It was built in the township of Adams,La Salle county, Illinois.

When the pioneers of the Norwe-gian emigrants left their native shores

for the broad plains of America, they

took little with them but their fam-

ilies, their willingness to work andtheir faith in God.

There were two reasons why theNorwegians were deeply religious.

One was it was so hard for them to

make a living. Of those who lived onthe western coast of Norway, betweenthe mountains and ocean, nearly everyman there lived mostly on the fish

they caught in the ocean, or were sail-

ors, and met many dangers. In the

eastern part of the country each manhad a strip of land which neveryielded enough to give them a living.

These hardships and dangers natural-

ly led to faith in God.The second reason was they all had

a very good drill in religion eventhough they had very little schooling,

[96]

because their mother always taughtthem religion. Their mother was their

first teacher, the schoolmaster sec-

ond and the pastor third.

Every Norwegian who set sail forAmerica placed in his strong box ortraveling bag a bible, a hymn bookand a catechism. It was natural thatthese pioneers from Norway, whowere settling near Leland, organizeda congregation very early.

They held their services in privatehouses within the community until

1850. Then in 1856 they decided to

build a church fifty feet long, thirty-

two feet wide and eighteen feet high,

but the lack of money kept them frombuilding until 1858. It was built

south of Leland and was painted red.

It was dedicated on the 11th day ofDecember, the same year. The first

pastor was Ole Andrewson, whoserved as regular pastor for one year.After that he traveled from Wiscon-sin to Leland to conduct services in

the local church. Besides the pastortwo other ministers came from Chi-cago to help him with the dedicationservices. In the year 1867 the churchbuilding was moved to Leland.Many young people would walk in

crowds a distance of eight miles to

church because they were more thanwilling to hear a sermon. They wouldgo to church on Sunday evenings.History tells us that when the first

service was held a woman walked

twenty-two miles with a babe in herarms in order to attend worship inthe Leland church.

In 1898 the old church was torndown and another beautiful churchwas built. On the second day of July,1917, this church was burned down,which was a hard blow, but a meetingwas held and they decided to buildanother on the same location. A morebeautiful church was built than be-fore. It was ready for the first serv-ice in April, 1919.The Norwegians loved beauty. This

is due, no doubt, to the beautiful, na-tural scenery in their home—herfjords, her mountains, her glaciers,her forests, her waterfalls, and hergorgeous midnight sun. This love ofbeauty is shown here, for every timethey built a new church it becamemore beautiful than the old one.They did not have any choir nor

musical instrument in the old days,but they all sang, with usually oneman as leader.

I will close with a few lines of anold song that has been sung so many,many times in this Lutheran church:

"Praise to the Lord, Who doth prosperthy work and defend thee;

Surely, His goodness and mercy heredaily attend thee;

Ponder anewWhat the Almighty can do

If with His love He befriend thee."

GOING TO CHICAGO LONG AGOBy Willy Ott, Dist. 96

The trip to Chicago was a long andhard one and so was not made manytimes. The people started very earlyin the morning with a wagon andoxen, or if they were rich enough,they went with horses, which madethe journey much easier and fasterthan with the oxen, which are veryslow animals. It took more than aweek in normal times, depending onthe weather and the starting point,but in exceptionally fine weather thetrip could be made in four days withhorses, and five with oxen.Many were the sighs emitted by a

small boy whose father refused to lethim go "up V Chicaga."The roads which led to Chicago

from central Illinois came throughLowell and what is now Route 23,then the Bloomington road, and joinedat Ottawa to form a main road alongthe Illinois river to Chicago. Theroad through Lowell and Vermillion-

ville was also a mail route and coachline route.

The roads were very poor becauseof poor drainage conditions, and wa-ter stood in them most of the time.This made them so muddy that theywere almost impassable at times. Inrainy weather farmers who were haul-ing grain to Chicago were almost sureto get stuck somewhere along theroad, and when that happened theycould do nothing but wait for someoneelse to come along so that by double-teaming they could pull each otherout.

Some enterprising citizens whowished to make money and help thetravelers (mostly the former) builtroads of planks and charged a toll ofso much a mile for using them. Thegovernment also helped do this, andmost of them made a good profit, al-

though roads made in this fashion

[97]

cost much money and were hard tokeep in repair.

There were many taverns along theroads where the travelers stayed overnight and got meals. Those at Lowell,Utica and Vermillionville were wellknown in La Salle county. The oldtavern at Lowell was afterwards usedas a grocery store and is now a pri-

vate house. Card tables were eminentpieces of furniture and the bar wherefood and drinks were to be had wasat one end of the lower floor, with thesleeping quarters on the upper floor.

The tavern was a gathering placefor the men of the community, andoften saw duty as a dance hall. Thoseof the farmers who could afford topay for a room slept at the tavern,but the others got something to eatand slept with their horses.There were no bridges except where

the river or creek could not be fordedeasily, and these were not very good.One instance showing the instability

of the bridges was when Jumbo, thegreat elephant, was forced to wadethe Fox river for fear of breakingdown the bridge with his weight.Upon arriving at Chicago the farm-

er ran into roads (supposed to bestreets) that were worse than thecountry roads, because of the low landof the flats surrounding the lakewhich was not drained very well. The

wagons would sometimes sink to theaxle, and many people did a thrivingbusiness pulling out wagons until thecity began draining the streets. Jok-ers sometimes put up signs such asthese in muddy places: "No BottomHere," "Shortest Road to China," etc.

The grain elevators were near thelake or river, where the goods couldbe easily reached by boats, and bythe time the farmer with his load ofgrain arrived at one of them he wasfully justified in heaving a sigh of re-lief. But it soon turned to groanswhen he received the money for hisgrain or the supplies he exchangedit for. When he had everything heneeded or could get, he started forhome.

There were few robbers in thosedays, which is quite the contrary to-

day. This was probably because therewas nothing to rob, because almosteveryone was very poor. Once in awhile a tavern or farmer was robbed,but this did not occur very frequently.

When the farmer arrived back homehe was welcomed royally by his fam-ily, for trips like those were veryfew and far between. He traveledvery seldom, so you can imagine thewelcome he would receive upon ar-

riving home after being gone over aweek.

AN EARLY COAL MINEBy Evelyn Brennan, Dist. 17

The early settlers of the southernpart of La Salle county found coal in

abundance along the Vermillion rivernear where Streator now stands. Thiswas a very soft, but good quality coal.

The coal cropped out on the banks ofthe river and for many years the earlysettlers picked it out, loaded theirwagons and drove away with it. Allit cost was the labor of getting it.

As the country settled up, morecoal was needed to supply them. Soonthe supply that could be had along theriver banks became exhausted. Min-ers then came upon the scene, drifts

were started underground and min-ing began. In a few years the coalwas mined far back from the riverand it became necessary to sink shaftsso the coal could be produced cheaper.

Those mines averaged about sixtyfeet in depth, and the coal was hoistedto the surface by a horse hitched to

a lever which turned a large roundpost which stood upright and wasfastened at both ends. On the top

end was a large drum on which wasfastened the hoisting rope. As thehorse went around in a ring the ropewas wound up, which hoisted the cageand pulled up the coal. There wereusually two cages; as one came up theother went down. When the cagecame up the horse turned around andwent in the opposite direction, whichbrought up the other cage. The coalwas dumped into the farmers' wag-ons and they hauled it away.

In early days much of this coal washauled to Wenona and loaded in carson the Illinois Central railroad andshipped north. For many years this

was very profitable work for thefarmers in the winter time.Owing to the small cost of sinking

and operating those mines, there weremany of them, and for a time Strea-tor was called "The Pittsburgh of theWest."

"I distinctly remember," my pioneerfriend said, "one day in the winter of

1858, while waiting my turn to be

[98]

loaded, I went down into the mine. I

found the mine to be large and roomy.The ceiling was about seven feet high.

The rooms, as they are called, wereabout twenty feet in width."The miners were at work in their

rooms and were getting out the coal

in many different ways. The roof washeld up with rows of wooden postscalled props."Some of the miners began on the top

coal, while others started on the bot-

tom of the coal and worked upward.No matter how they worked, they gotlots of coal. The guide who was withme took me to many rooms whereminers were working. He told me themine was drained into the Vermillionriver underground. After followingthe entry through which the waterdrained for ten or fifteen rods, I askedhim how far it was to the river ? Hetold me it was about one-half a mileto the river and I suggested that we

turn back. In a short while we reachedthe shaft, we got on the cage and in alittle while were again on top in thebeautiful sunshine."The farmers from the south and

west hauled coal from those mines,for a distance of forty miles or more.Although we lived only about twelvemiles from these mines, we oftenstarted as early as two o'clock in themorning to go there to get loadedwith coal, and sometimes would notget loaded till evening.

For many years the demand forStreator coal was very great. Thencame the railroads and the foundationof the beautiful city of Streator waslaid. Coal mining was carried on ona gigantic scale, with large mines,thousands of miners, steam hoists,

and up-to-date machinery. Many mil-lions of tons of this fine coal weremined and shipped out of Streatoryearly.

THE CODYS OF FREEDOMBy Evelyn Peterson, Dist. 246

Mr. Samuel Cody was born in Oneidacounty in the state of New York,April 13, 1813. On February 11, 1836,he married Caroline Baxter.

In April, 1837, he, his wife andchild Harriet, moved to Illinois. Hecame in a covered wagon drawn byoxen. It was hard traveling becausethere were no bridges or roads. Theyhad to make their way through. Theyarrived in La Salle county almostpenniless.The first winter Mr. Cody and his

family stayed with the Warren family.Mr. Cody bought his land for fifteen

dollars an acre. He could have got-ten land east of his home for a dollarand a quarter an acre. Why do yousuppose he paid so much for his land ?

The land east of his house didn't haveany trees or willows. The land hebought had a few trees and willowson it. This helped keep out the coldand wind. Mr. Cody bought his landfrom Mr. Engersal. He bought hisland from the government.

Mr. Cody bought walnut lumber forhis home. He bought it from a saw-mill east of his home. His first househad only two rooms. He kept addingto the two rooms as it was needed.

Mr. Cody told Mr. Sampson that hewould help him build his home if hewould build it near him. Why do yousuppose he did this? Mr. Cody didthis because he wanted help if anyIndians should attack.

Mr. Cody had to haul grain to Chi-cago. He and his neighbors would gotogether to haul the grain. Theywould haul the grain in a wagondrawn by oxen.The colonists had trouble with dis-

eases besides other hardships. Chol-era broke out in the Cody family. Mr.Cody's wife and children and hiswife's two brothers died from cholera.

In the time of the gold rush Mr.Cody, with his neighbor, Mr. Samp-son, went West. They went in a cov-ered wagon drawn by oxen. On theway he had to watch out for the In-dians. Mr. Cody got out there safelyand got some gold. On the way backhe went by water. He went down to

lower California and crossed the Isth-

mus of Panama. Mr. Cody saw peo-ple's throats cut by robbers and theirgold taken away from them.

In 1851 Mr. Cody married MissTheda Kenyon. They had one son,

whose name was Jay A. Cody. Jaywent South in time of the Civil warto fight, but was killed. He was bur-ied at New Orleans.

Frederic Cody, the father of all theCodys who now live in Freedom town-ship, lived in the house of SamuelCody.

In 1891 they tore down the oldhouse and built a new one. In 1900they added five rooms to the newhouse. It now has ten rooms in it.

Before the Civil war the negroes

[99]

would run away from their masters.They came to the North. The peoplein the North helped them get to Can-ada. As soon as they reached Canadathey would be free. Some of the ne-groes would come to Mr. Cody's place.

He kept them in an attic. Upstairs in

the northwestern part is a small room.In the room is a small trap door. Youcan get in it by a ladder. In the attic

is a place where the negroes hid.

Sometimes during the night he wouldtake them to Leland. From theresomeone else took them.

The Cody family had many relics.

Mrs. Cody used candles. She had acandle mold which would hold a dozencandles. She would make them outof tallow.

She had a beautiful clock which wasmade of rosewood.

Ethel and Bayard Cody have furni-ture made from the old house. Someof the boards are under the radiators.Bayard made a library table and mor-ris chair from the old house.He also made a gun cabinet in which

he keeps his guns and revolvers.

A WEST POINT COMMANDANTBy Clark Tryon, Dist. 117

My great-great-uncle was EmeryUpton. He was born in 1839 in Gen-eseo county, New York. When he wasa boy he went to a grammar schooland then he went to a high school fortwo years. Then he got an appoint-ment to West Point. He passed theexaminations and entered West PointJune 3, 1856.He studied very hard there for five

years. Then in 1860 the cadets fromthe South started to resign becausethey were to train in the southernarmy for the Civil war. After thesecadets had left there were many va-cancies in West Point. Upton thenbecame an officer in the artillery de-partment of this military school. Hewrote home that he saw that the Civil

war was going to break out and hewould enlist as soon as it did.

When the Civil war broke out hewas one of the first to be chosen bythe government to train men that hadcome to Washington in response to

Lincoln's call for volunteers. Hetrained many men for the field artil-

lery. He did not like to train men so

he enlisted in the field artillery in theArmy of the Potomac. He was com-mander of the First and Sixth Infan-try from Massachusetts. The first

battle he took part in was the first

battle of Bull Run. He also fought in

the battle of Antietam Creek, wherehe was wounded twice by musketballs. He was a good leader. In thebattle of Gettysburg his artillery

came up during the night of the sec-

ond day of battle. The next day his

artillery played an important part in

driving Lee back across the Potomacinto Virginia.When Grant became commander-in-

chief of the Union army he foughtunder Grant in the Battle of the Wil-derness and the skirmishes around

Petersburg. The officers that were in

command that did not go with thearmy sent a small force of men tocapture a large place that was guard-ed by a large force of men. Manythousands of men lost their lives be-cause of the foolish leaders of theUnion army. Upton said that if theleaders of the Union army would comealong with the army and see whatthey had sent the army against theywould think out plans to capture theplaces without so much bloodshed.Upton became an officer in Sheri-

dan's army. When General Lee sentEarly to raid the Shenandoah Valley,Upton was among Sheridan's armythat was sent to defeat Early andfinish Early's task. Upton was a col-

onel in the left wing of Sheridan'sarmy. The commander of the left

wing was wounded during the attackon Early's army and was taken to therear. Then Upton took charge andbroke through the Confederate lines

and sent that part of Early's armyflying in retreat. While he was mak-ing the charge a cannon ball burstnear him and wounded him in the hip.

It tore the ligaments and laid theartery bare. General Sheridan or-

dered him to the rear, but he just

called for a surgeon to bandage thewound and stop the flow of blood.

Then he called for a stretcher. Hewas borne around the field, givingorders.

After his wound had healed, Sheri-

dan told him to come to the Ohio,

where he took charge of a division of

cavalry. There he helped very muchin the capture of Columbus, Georgia,

and other cities near Columbus. Hewas the leader of the army that cap-

tured cities from Columbus to Atlan-

ta that ended the Civil war after the

[100]

surrender of Lee at Appomattox courthouse.When the war was over he was

sent to Europe and Asia by PresidentGrant to study tactics. He learnedabout the equipment, armies and artil-

lery of the countries of both contin-

ents. He came back to the UnitedStates and reported what he hadfound out. Then he wrote Upton's"Tactics," which became the standardguide for our army for many years.After that he became commandant ofthe artillery division of West Point.

SPINNING AND KNITTINGBy Esther Schlesinger, Dist. 281

My father, John F. Schlesinger, re-

cently told me a very interestingstory of his grandparents' experiencesin spinning in olden times. I will

relate it in the way he told me:"My grandparents, Phillip and Marie

Schlesinger, came from Germany in

olden days. Grandfather worked asa hired man before they settled downto farming on the prairie.

"Grandfather raised many sheep.Every spring he would shear them. It

took almost all spring to do it. Hehad to shear the sheep by hand, whichtook a long time. When he had themall sheared, the wool had to bewashed."Sometimes the sheep would get in-

to the straw stack, which would leavemuch chaff on their wool. This hadto be taken out. They would also getmany cockleburs in their wool, whichtook a long time to get out.

"It took almost all summer to getthe wool thoroughly clean and dry. It

was very hard work to get it ready tospin into yarn. When it was thorough-ly dry, grandfather had to pull it

apart in order to get it soft andwhite.

"Grandfather had an old spinning-wheel. It was an old machine, stand-ing on three wooden legs. It had abig wheel in the middle between twoframes. It had a pedal on the bottomand had to be pumped by the feet.The wheel was attached by a stringto a big spool.

"It was very hard work to spin thewool. Grandfather had to have muchpatience in doing it. He had to pullthe wool with one hand while he held

it with the other one. In this waythe wool would go to the wheel. Hehad to pull it to get it straight andthin enough to spin. Many times thewool would break and slip out of his

hands. He would have to stop pump-ing and get the wool straightened outagain before he could go on spinning."When the wool was spun into

yarn, he would put it on another bigwheel. This wheel was turned byhand in a very slow manner. Hewould hold the wool in his hand andlet it slip through to the wheel. Whenthere was a great deal of wool on thewheel, he would pull a wooden pin outand take the wool off the wheel. Hewould wrap the wool into big skeinswith his hands."Sometimes he would dye the yarn

before putting it into skeins. Othertimes he would let the yarn stay whiteand dye it after it was knitted into

different things."Grandmother had five little silver

knitting needles about ten incheslong. She always knitted in sort ofa square. She would work with twoneedles at a time. When she tookone needle out, she would put anotherin.

"She would knit the yarn into scarfs,

sweaters, mittens, stockings, shawlsand other useful things. She wouldknit these things in. the winter. Theywould sell many things, but wouldgive most of it away to their grand-children for Christmas presents.

"Whenever these things would get

holes in them, she would cut out the

poor spots and knit in new places."

MAKING MAPLE SUGARBy Leila Shreffler, Dist. 26.

It was in about 1856, a few shortyears after "The Great Compromisor,"Henry Clay, wrote the Compromise of1850, that a mother and her fifteen-

year-old daughter Priscilla sat in thedoorway of their home—a log cabinin La Salle county, Illinois. Theirclothing and home showed that theyhad seen better times.

"You see, daughter—I was born in

Magnolia, of wealthy parentage—

"

"Oh, tell me an interesting experi-ence in your girlhood. Father and theboys will not be back for at least anhour yet."

"I must have a minute to think,

first."

As the mother sat there thinking,

[101]

the sun shone its slanting rays onher auburn hair and slightly lightedher face. The girl marveled howperfectly adorable her mother reallywas.

"I know," she said at last, breakingthe momentary silence. "I shall tell

you a story that shall teach and still

be interesting."The girl nodded in silent assent.

"I was about fourteen when myfather, who ran a sugar camp, decidedto visit the camp. I was one of afamily of seven. Father decided to

take but one of us, so he had us drawnumbers. I drew the lucky numberand visited for the first time a maplesugar camp."We took our first ox cart and drove,

averaging fifteen miles a day, mak-ing the journey in one day. We ar-

rived at sunset, so we, being unable to

see anything then, retired early.

"The next morning the foremanshowed me around while father talkedbusiness."The gang go every day to gather

sap. The three-gallon pails are some-times filled over night. They tap themaple sugar trees, put a piece of

elderberrywood, with the pith takenout in the cut part. The end thati is

put in the tree is tapered almost to a

point. They then hang their three-gallon pails on the stick and collect

the sap every day during the seasonwhich begins in April, when the sap is

rising (if the weather is not too cold),

and lasts until about the middle of

May. The average yield per tree fora year is about five pounds."Although they have camps wher-

ever the trees are, there are not manycamps in this state or any of theneighboring states. This industry andthe maple syrup industry thrive andcamps are most frequent in southernCanada and the eastern part of theUnited States. Each day when they

collect the sap they carry it to campand put it in huge kettles, where theyboil it down, fill the kettles up, boilit down until it is sugar."Father had many grand and price-

less old trees in his tract of land. Histract, the gang, and camp, was one ofthe largest and best known for milesaround.

"While going through parts of fa-ther's land with father (for he hadfinished his business and joined us),I helped gather the sap in the pailsand we found many pails runningover. The foreman tapped some moretrees, for it was early in the season,and made a stick of elderberrywoodfor each tree. He sent Henry (oneof the gang) to call the wagon tobring pails, and placed the pails onthe sticks.

"When noon came we went back tothe cabin and had a rude but plentifuldinner, made by smiling Mrs. Dugan,the foreman's wife, and served by thetwo daughters. It consisted of po-tatoes, flapjacks and maple syrup,corn bread and coffee—my treat, asit was the first time I had tasted cof-

fee. But our coffee never was harm-ful. It was merely made of groundgrain.

"It was after dinner that father told

me that the maple trees in our veryown yard at home, the one's that wechildren climbed, swung and playedon every day produced the sap thatmaple sugar can be made out of butthat it wasn't as good, or nice flavoredas the maple sugar trees are. I foundthis hard to believe at first, but I fin-

ally reasoned it out that they wereboth maple trees and that they mustbe related, therefore, naturally, onewould find sweet sap in both. Butenough; here comes father."One place where maple sugar prob-

ably is still made is at Mr. WilliamHaws' timber, as they used to make it.

EXPERIENCES OF THE HALL GIRLSBy Thelma Henrickson, Dist. 245

I have chosen this story to writebecause I know a few people in this

community that are related to Sylviaand Rachel Hall. Two of my school-

mates are related to them.William Hall and his wife, Mary

Jane Rebecca, were staying with sev-

eral other people in William Davis'house, on the north bank of Indiancreek, in La Salle county, Illinois,

about twelve miles north of Ottawa,when the captivity of his two daugh-

ters took place. He had four daugh-ters and three sons. The girls thatwere captured by the Indians wereRachel and Sylvia.

It was on the afternoon of May 20,

1832, that the Indians came to harmthem. Most pf the Hall family werekilled by the Indians, but Rachel andSylvia were hurried away as quicklyas possible. The Indians led them un-til they came to the rest of their

group, then placed the girls on a pony

[102]

apiece. The Indians and the capturedsisters traveled until quite late at

night. They rested awhile, and then•started traveling again, until twoo'clock in the afternoon of the nextday. At that time they rested againand had roasted acorns and scaldedbeans to eat. Of course, Sylvia andRachel ate very little of this.

On the seventh day the Indianstraveled much faster, because theythought the white men were afterthem. For supper that evening sliced

meat, boiled coffee and corn soupwere served. Different evenings theIndians had a dance after they hadeaten their supper.The next morning the Indians

placed the scalps of the girls' mur-dered father, mother and friends upona pole. The girls thought they, too,

would soon be murdered, but theymoved away from this place un-harmed. The girls felt very happythat the Indians were sparing them.

After three more days of traveling,

Sylvia and Rachel were quite ex-hausted, but they knew they mustobey the Indians. The Indians sup-plied the girls with Indian dresses andtried to make them wear moccasins.The leader of that group was WhiteCrow. He felt sorry for them and

told them he would soon take themhome.The tenth day they traveled through

wet land and underbrush. The nextday the girls thought it was gettingmore like home.

After stopping to eat, they movedon until they came to the fort of BlueMounds. The two sisters were thentaken to their two uncles, Edward andReason Hall.

This was about the first of June.The Indians wanted to give the girls

a Sac squaw for a servant duringtheir lives, but they did not acceptthat.

Rachel and Sylvia were bidden afinal farewell by the Indians at Gra-tiat's Grove. Their brother, J. W.Hall, met them there. The girls hadimagined that he had been murdered,also. They stayed there a few weeksand then went with their brother anduncle to Galena. There they metmany old friends, who treated themquite nicely. They then went to live

with their uncle, Robert Scott, aboutforty miles from where the girls werecaptured.

The sisters felt very thankful to

the friends that had taken part in

helping them escape.

SCENES OF YESTERDAYBy Gene Buchanan, Dist. 72

Let's go on an imaginary trip

through La Salle county early in thenineteenth century. We are on horse-back and have just arrived in La Sallecounty.As we near an opening we hear

sounds. Chop! Chop! Upon drawingnearer we see a log cabin which wasrecently erected, and another whoseerection has just been started. Aswe proceed still nearer a man comesto meet us, and in a hospitable man-ner asks us to stay awhile and rest.

Being weary, we accept the invitation.We tie our horses in a barn which is

made of logs and somewhat resemblesthe log cabin in appearance. We wan-der off to watch the erection of thecabin. Of course, we ask a few ques-tions:

"What is this tool?""Why, it is a frowl, used to split

logs into clapboards and shingles. It

is driven by this wooden hammer.""What is this bench used for?""That is used to hold the shingles

while shaving them.""How does it work?"

"You put the shingles under thatextending plank. Then sit on theplank on the legs, press on the little

foot pedal (that holds it). Have yourdrawknife handy and shave it to thethickness desired."We then walk over to watch the

erection of the cabin. There are sev-eral men at work, some cutting logs,

others carrying them, while otherscut notches in the logs, and still

others fixing notches in the logs sothat they fit tightly together, and thentacking them with wooden spikes.

We must now go on into the occu-pied cabin, for the wife has called usto dinner. Upon one glance aroundthe room we see a large fireplace pro-jecting from the center of one side

of the room, with a blazing log in it.

On the other side of the room standsa table made of a log. There are twolog benches at its sides and severalbenches at its ends. In one cornersits Granny spinning at a large spin-ning-wheel. After we finish our din-

ner we sit around the exterior of thecabin and talk.

[103]

By one o'clock we are again con-tinuing our journey. How beautifulthe region is, with its leaved trees andbirds singing at their tops, with hereand there a nest among the branches,while around the trunks of the treesthe violets, spring beauties, leopardtongues and many other wild flowerscan be seen in full bloom.

Just at the dusk of day, when thesun sends forth its radiant rays atsetting, we see in the distance a logcabin. We soon stop here and inquire

about a night's lodging. They first

ask us if we can play a violin. An-swer, yes. They give us as a reasonfor asking the question the announce-ment of a dance which is to be heldthat evening and their need of an ex-tra player, and add: "If you will

play you may have a night's lodging."We eat supper and just finish when

the violinist and caller come. It is

quite awhile before the dancers will

come, so we sit around and talk. Thedancers begin to arrive, so we tuneup the fiddles. When everyone ar-

rived the violins broke forth with"Turkey in the Straw.""Now your partners for a square

dance! Form a circle. First coupleup to the center and back again,up to the center and cast off, six withthree on a side! Swing as you meet!Up to the center and cast off four,

two on a side," etc., called the caller.

We dance all evening, and to at

least one or two o'clock in the morn-ing.

After we eat our breakfast nextmorning we are on our way again,but we are not alone, for some mem-bers of the family who are going to

visit a sick neighbor several milesaway, ride with us. We ride along,when all at once one remarks, "Whynot stop and view Starved Rock?""We can if you like," is the reply.

So we stop for a while. We climbup on top of the rock, which is the

place where many Indians plungedinto the Illinois river when they weredriven upon the rock to starve. 'Twasthus it got its name, Starved Rock.We wander around and pick flowers.

We walk until we come to a beautifulcanyon, now known as French canyon.

But we must now be on our way,for it is getting late.

One of the aged men tells us a little

more about the history of StarvedRock. He said, "The Iroquois, a largeand forceful tribe of Indians, had theirmain location in Illinois. Large vil-

lages were established all over thestate. Some in La Salle county wereat Utica, near Starved Rock, Ottawaand La Salle. One site was locatedin the Starved Rock vicinity, whichhas stood so majestically for thou-sands of years, washed by the swiftcurrent of the river, bathing its feet

on one side, its summits overlookingthe broad valley and many wood-cladmountains for many miles above andbelow it. It is a fit monument to thegreat departed who had during manylong years of peace and securitylooked upon its hugeness as a saferefuge in case of disaster. Alas! if

it was to be secure against the ap-proach of human hands, famine couldscale it and do its deadly work. Thereis and ever will be a charm about theplace, both for its own romantic sur-

roundings and the melancholy storyof bloody scenes it has looked upon.This cruel deed was done by raanyofour ancestors who drove the Indianupon that bare rock to starve. Someof the Indians even leaped off the rockto keep from getting into the handsof the whites and to not have the suf-

ering of starvation. Thus 'twasnamed Starved Rock."Our trail now brings us to the part-

ing place. We say good-bye and pro-ceed on to the end of our journey,which ends with this story and sets

us forward to 1932.

MR. ROBERT ROWE, 1802-1879

By Walter E. Larson, Dist. 272

The land upon which Sheridan nowstands was first settled by Mr. RobertRowe. He settled here in 1838.

He immediately began to build ahome, a place southwest of town.The lumber for this house was hauledby wagon all the way from Chicago.This was the first house built in this

community, and it still stands, but it

is not occupied.This house now is owned by Mr.

Joe Armstrong. Some people believe

that this house is haunted.Mr. Robert Rowe was born in

Edinburg, Scotland, January 10th,

1802. His father was a person fromthe same place.

They had hardly enough money to

pay their way to the United States.

Mr. Robert Rowe's father worked as

a cabinet maker, and later he taughthis son, Robert Rowe, the same trade.

[104]

By his father saving the money that

he made in the cabinet making busi-

ness, he made enough money to comeover from Edinburg, Scotland, to the

United States.

Mr. Robert Rowe's father was liked

very much over in Edinburg, Scot-

land.When they got ready to come to

the United States their trip was de-

layed until the next day. They hadto come by sailboat. It took themforty-two days to reach the UnitedStates. Robert Rowe was at the ageof two years when they came to theUnited States. They came over in

1804.They first landed at New York, in

1804. Mr. Robert Rowe's father did

not have much money. He started

cabinet making then and got enoughmoney for him and his son, RobertRowe, to go to Indiana, in Dearborncounty. They came to this place in

the spring, in April 1838. This is

where they started their first farm-ing. They remained here until Mr.Robert Rowe's father died.

After his father's death he movedto Sheridan. He married Mary Mc-Match. They raised ten children, of

whom five are living.

He was quite a talented and intelli-

gent man, taking up and masteringthe study of astronomy without the

help of a teacher. He did not attend

school after he was eighc years old

because of sickness.One of his sons was Alexander

Rowe. He was born August 12, 1804,

and died on Thanksgiving day, 1883.

He was run into and knocked downby a colt and never recovered fromthese injuries, which later caused his

death.Mr. Robert Rowe built the first

astronomical observatory. It waserected at the back of his home. It

contained one of the finest telescopesin Illinois at that time. About 1885the observatory was struck by light-

ning and burned.Mr. Robert Rowe spent most of his

leisure hours in his older days in this

observatory that he built.

A few years after the settlementof the village the Ottawa, Oswegoand Fox River Valley railroad wasconstructed in 1869. Two or threeyears after the construction of therailroad the farm grew to a settle-

ment of several hundred.In 1869, the same year as the rail-

road was constructed, Samuel Rowelaid out the village and named it

Sheridan, for General Phil Sheridan.Mr. Robert Rowe grew to be 77

years old. He died on June 14, 1879.

He was a member of the Universalistchurch and a pioneer of Mission town-ship, settling where Sheridan nowstands.

A STORY ABOUT MY GRANDFATHERBy Roy Sulzberger, Dist 65

My grandfather was born in 1846 in

Mardorf, Germany. His parents werequite rich but they had a garden in

which they raised much of their ownfood. One day grandfather was hoe-ing the garden when the hoe strucka rock. A chip of the rock hit himin the eye, and after that he was blind

in that eye.When he was in his late teens he

left his home to seek his fortune.While at home he had heard aboutthe chances people had in NorthAmerica, and when he left home hestarted right away for the promisingland. At the end of his journey theship docked at New York, and fromthere he traveled by train directly to

Illinois, where he stopped at Streator.Streator was then just a small town,known as Hardscrabble. He went ahalf a mile east of town, which placeis now known as Otter Creek street.

He worked there for two years and

then moved to a place near whereDwight now is, where he built a homeand started farming on the prairie.

He had to haul his grains to Ottawa,where it was ground for food. Thecountry had many robbers and raidersin it and I have been told of a nar-row experience my grandmother hadwith a band of them. They wouldtravel in a group, and usually aboutsix would raid a house and carry off

the women when the men folks weregone. My grandfather had gone toOttawa with a team of oxen and awagon load of grain and my grand-mother was all alone when a band of

raiders came to their home. It wasabout dark, but she went to the doorand asked them what they wanted,and they asked if her husband washome. She said that he was homebut that he was sick. They wantedto go in to see for themselves, but mygrandmother said that he wasn't too

[105]

sick to hold a loaded gun, and that hewould sure use it on them if theystepped inside the door. They didn't

go inside, so they must have thoughtthe threat real, but they prowledaround outside and took what theycould find. That incident seems to

show the bravery of the pioneerwomen of those days.About that time the country was

stirred up about the war between theNorth and South. When the Northcalled for men to enlist, my grand-father was unable to go because of

his blind eye, which had been trou-bling him.

In 1911 he retired from the farmto Streator, leaving his five hundredand twenty acres in the care of his

sons. There he lived until the fall of

1930, when both my grandfather andgrandmother got too feeble to takecare of themselves and they moved to

Ransom, 111., with my mother, wherethey lived until they passed away.My grandfather was eighty-five yearsof age when he died.

JEFFERSON NISBET OF EARLBy Mabel Mende, Dist. 309

One of the earliest settlers of Earltownship was my great-grandfather,Jefferson Nisbet. Many hours I havespent listening to the tales of earlydays he told. It required men of

courage in those adventuresome times.He was born on a farm in New

York state in 1837, of Quaker parent-age. His grandfather was a ministerin that church. He helped his fatherwith the farm work. Much of the soil

was poor, with out-cropping rock andstone, which had to be picked up byhand before the crop could be planted.This, as most New England boysknow, meant fence building. Grand-father disliked this part of it and wasanxious to go West, where the soil, so

he had heard, was free from rock.

He came West in about 1854, stop-ping in Chicago, where he worked ona boat on the Illinois-Michigan canal.

Those were prosperous times for thatwaterway.From there he came to Earlville,

where he attended school in the first

schoolhouse in the township, wherethe Precinct cemetery now is. He wasthen nineteen years of age.

But the call of the West drew himto Denver, Colorado, where he wasemployed in herding governmentmules. Indians roamed free in thosedays and he had many exciting ad-ventures, but they never made an at-

tempt to harm him.At one time he was riding his pony,

herding the mules, when an Indian ap-peared and took the bridle from his

horse and threw him his rope in re-

turn and rode off happy. Grandpawas there alone and it was uselessfor him to refuse to trade. He knewwhen to give a point in the Indian'sfavor.A few years later he returned to

New York for a visit. But never

again would he be satisfied in thatsettled region.

The West claimed him, and this timehe was employed by the "Barlowe andSanderson Overland Mail and ExpressCompany," as a messenger. Thesecoaches traveled between Kansas Cityand Sante Fe, New Mexico. Therewere no bridges across the rivers orstreams, so they had to be forded.Often the rivers were so swollen thatthey would have to wait several daysbefore the crossing could be made.

Their route was always planned be-fore the journey was begun so thatthey would know the exact scheduleand the stops could be so timed. Howthey did strive to be "on time!"They had no tents and were forced

to sleep out in the open, doing theirown cooking. If any Indian disturb-ances were heard of. scouts were sentout to see if it was safe before thecoach would continue. Buffalo roamedfreely in those days and often fur-nished fresh meat on these journeys.On these trips the mail and express

baggage was stowed under the driver'sseat. If there was too much for thatspace it was carried on the top or in

the perches, which was an extensionon the rear of the coach.

It took two weeks to make the trip

to Sante Fe. At various places mailwas dropped and more picked up.While on the plains, grandpa tradedwith the Indians for many things.Among them, and which he prizedmost highly, was an Indian jacketand a pair of moccasins. This jacketwas made of two different coloreddeer skins. It was tight fitting, camebelow the waistline, and the loweredge was slashed' up three inches forfringe. It had a cape, fringed thesame way, and trimmed with brightbeads. This jacket was often worn in

[106]

later years at masquerade parties, andit still in the possession of my great-grandmother.

Grandfather traveled this trail forseven years. Fifty-five years later hetraveled the same trail in an automo-bile. Many places were so changedit was almost impossible to recognizesome of them, but after all, moun-tains and rock formations change butlittle.

In 1871 Jefferson Nisbet came to

Illinois to buy land. On this trip hecame through Chicago on the trainwhile the city was still burning andsmoking from the great fire.

The next year he returned to NewYork for his wife and two childrenand settled about two and one-halfmiles east of Earlville.

The original farm consisted of six-

ty-two acres of land. He also ac-quired a large tract of timber landso that he could have his own supplyof wood and lumber. The land wasnot fenced in and a great deal of it

was swampy. It took much hard labor

to get it in condition. He split rails

and made rail fences to enclose his

land. But his struggles were worthwhile, and today great fields havetaken place of the former swamps.He also brought from New York a

two-seated spring buggy. This wasalmost a novelty in the community in

those days and the neighborhood al-

ways borrowed it for funerals andspecial occasions.The Nisbet family grew and there

were four boys and four girls. Theyattended school, for grandfather Nis-bet believed in education, even in

those days when the struggle of liv-

ing occupied their thoughts almostentirely.

Along with his farming grandfatherhad a cider press. People from farand near brought apples to be madeinto cider. The apples were crushedby horse power and then pressed byhand. Dairying interested him too,

and he built many large buildings in

which to carry on this business. In1894 he built a large creamery, wherebutter and cheese were made. Heworked in this factory for a greatmany years.

In the summer of 1920 all the build-ings on this farm, except the houseburned, but he replaced them.At the time of his death the farm

had grown to 320 acres.Great-grandfather died at the ripe

old age of ninety-two, on August 25,

1928, on my own birthday.His wife is still living on the same

farm where he brought her, sixtyyears ago. She is still very active atthe age of eighty-seven.

It is men like Jefferson Nisbet whohave built for the best in a communityand their struggles have made history.

I am proud to tell of his life.

ALMOST A CITYBy Romaine Tyrrell, Dist. 316.

As people's hopes are sometimesshattered, so it was with the expecta-tion of the early settlers that foundedthe village of Northville. This little

village consisted of seven houses; aschoolhouse, a church, a blacksmithshop, a wagon shop, and a doctor'soffice. There was a store, post office

and a dwelling place all in one. Thedoctor's office, the church, and threeof the houses are gone now.My great-grandfather, John Tyrrell,

brought his wife there as a bride andshe lived there the rest of her life.

They had eleven children. Four ofthem, Mrs. A. Weller, Mrs. W. Gletty,Mrs. F. Gletty and Mr. C. P. Tyrrell,still live. My great-grandfatherworked for Mrs. Finnly in the black-smith shop and later he bought it. It

stands on the corner. There are twoof the forges left and the bench viseis still there. There were two black-smiths besides himself and two help-

ers working in the shop. They didall kinds of blacksmith work. Thework was brought here from manymiles.

Mr. and Mrs. C. P. Tyrrell, mygrandparents, are living in one of theold places. On their land are severalsmall hollows where the cellars ofsome of the houses that are gonewere. They bought the place of Mr.Ballou.

Rev. Geo. McKinley, the pastor of

the church forty-eight years ago, mar-ried my grandparents. Fourteenyears ago he married two of my auntsand twelve years ago he baptized twoof my cousins and myself. He died

last June at Peotone.

My great-grandfather made tables

for the basement of the church. Mygrandmother and one of my auntseach have one of the tables. Mygrandmother also has one of the pews

[107]

which was in the church. She sangin the choir and also was the organist.The schoolhouse is where my grand-

parents and my father got their edu-cation. My cousin is going there now.It used to be east of where my grand-father lives now, but when they built

the new one they built it south of thechurch, "right up in the town." Whenmy grandparents went there, therewere seventy pupils. They usedbenches and double seats. The onesthat didn't have many books sat onbenches. They sat two of the little

children in one seat and sometimesthree sat in one of the double seats.

One of our friends told about oncewhen he went to school there aboutfifty years ago. The boys chewed to-

bacco in school time. They had ink-wells then so they would spit the to-

bacco juice in them. The teachercaught them at it once and then hemade them stop it. One day when hewent for dinner the boys took thestove poker and got it red hot (this

was in the winter), then they burnta hole in the floor by their desks sothey could spit in that. He also told

that when they would do anythingthe teacher would hit the palm of their

hand with a ruler as hard as he could,

to punish them.The doctor's office and house were

south of the schoolhouse. The doc-tor was Mr. David.The store was next. Jim Powell

owned the store; in 1864 Mr. and Mrs.

John Culmer bought it. They ownedit for thirty-seven years. Then Mr.Culmer died and Mrs. Culmer sold thestore. She and her family movedaway. They used to run the post of-

fice, too. At one time the stagecoachwent through here and left the mail,and later when the railroad was built,

it was brought over from Sheridanby horse and buggy and then takenback, until they had free delivery.The old store is standing yet and is

used as a dwelling house. The largefront windows still there are evidencethat a store was here at one time.Mrs. Culmer died at her daughter'sin Somonauk, March 30, 1932.

South of the store was the restaur-ant; it was run by Mrs. Barby. Sheserved lunches and also alcoholicdrinks. It has been removed yearsago.The first time S. P. Dickson went

through Northville he was driving ateam of oxen. He had a well-diggingoutfit with him. Later he made his

home here. He is one of the few oldsettlers living there now.

This little town has been like somepeople's lives. They are prosperousat first, but as they get older theyfail. So it has been with Northville.If the railroad had gone throughthere, instead of five miles north, atSomonauk, or about four miles south-east, at Sheridan, it would have be-come a town that would have madeearly dreams come true.

THE VANISHED TOWNBy Melvin Vollmer, Dist. 127

In the year of 1830 a little towncalled Manville was built on the placenow called Cedar Creek.The first person to build a home

there was a very old man. All thethings he owned was a horse, a dog,a wagon and a few clothes. His homewas a one-room shack made of logs.

In 1832 there were quite a few peoplegathered in the valley. The nameManville was given to the town be-cause a man had founded it. In 1840Mr. Mudge moved to the little townand spent his first winter building

wagons for the people of Manville.

The next spring Mr. Mudge moved to

a better homestead.The greatest question of the town

was a mill, and that winter a mill wasbuilt. The water from the creek wasused to run the mill. The farmerscould grind their own wheat and corn.

No more long trips were made to

Lowell to get things ground.A road ran through the town to

Ottawa. Lincoln had used the little

town as a resting nlace when he wason his way to Ottawa to the courthouse. The little town had about onehundred and fifty people in it. Mostof the people were farmers from thesouth and north. There was only onemain street in the town, and that wasthe road to Ottawa. A railroad wasstarted to go through the town. Theground upon which the track was to

be laid upon was built up by men.The railroad never went through be-cause too many sidetracks had to beput in.

In the year of 1850 a band of menoccupied the valley across the creekfrom the town. The men were whatwe would call horse thieves. One darknight the men drove the horses away

[108]

and sold them. The thieves occupiedthe valley long after the town wasgone.

Mr. Mudge came back to the townand bought a tract of land. He andhis sons cut the stone from the creekbed for their home. Mr. Mudge'shome has stood up for many a year in

all kinds of weather and will stand upmany more years.The graveyard was about one-half

of a mile from the town. The first

person buried there was a pioneercalled Coats. The graveyard was nota modern one, with a man to cut thegrass and trim the trees. It wasunder the trees and wild flowers grewupon the graves. After the first

death the people started to move away.One by one the families left. Thehomes and then the mill vanished.

The last house was moved away in

1920. All that is left of the town is

the millrace and the cellars of thehomes.

There are very few people left in

this world that remember the towncalled Manville. One of Mr. Mudge'ssons owns the land on which the townstood. The graveyard is in his pas-tures. I live on Mr. Mudge's farm.There are two tombstones that markthe graves of the Coats', that havedied long ago. Mr. Mudge is the onlyperson around here that remembersthe town. He could tell many a goodstory about Manville. It surprised mequite a bit to find out that a towncould spring up and then fade awayand leave only a few people to tell

of its passing.

CROSSING THE PLAINS IN '51

By Orla Foster, Dist. 227

Charles Foster, my great-grandfa-ther, was born in the White Hills of

New Hampshire in 1820. By work-ing his way on river steamers andwalking he got to Troy Grove in 1844,where he worked for Mr. Shedd. Inthe fall of 1847 he married HarrietMasterman, who had come to the vil-

lage from Maine in 1844. They madetheir home in Troy Grove until 1851.The early spring of the- latter date

found John Edgcomb, John Wylie,Carl Thelo and Oliver Hickok withCharles Foster starting for the goldfields of California in ox-drawn andcovered wagons.

It took them from late March untilearly May to get from Troy Grove toOmaha. At Omaha there was a bandof one hundred wagons going to Cali-fornia, so they joined the caravan.Before they started, the leader in-

spected their wagons to see if hethought they would hold out throughthe journey. If he did, they were per-mitted to go. Although they had cov-ered wagons to carry their suppliesin, the men, we must remember, hadto walk.

It was mid-July when they arrivedat Ft. Laramie. Here they got newsupplies, repaired their wagons andrested their oxen to prepare them forcrossing the mountains.By the time they arrived at Salt

Lake City the oxen hoofs were sobadly worn down and their feet sosore they could hardly walk. BrighamYoung offered to trade one ox for twoof the travelers'. After he had turned

them he sent them to pasture for afew weeks, their hoofs would healand he could trade them one for twoagain. The travelers made two-wheelcarts out of their wagons, yoked twooxen instead of four and started acrossthe desert.

The country between Salt Lake Cityand the Sierra Nevada mountains wasnothing but a semi-arid region andthey had to go forty-eight hours with-out water at one time. From aboutnoon of the second day they couldhardly keep the oxen going, but earlyin the morning of the third day theystarted up, and all the men could dowas to let them go. They hadsmelled the water they were nearing.The water hole had a sloping road

clear around it leading down to thewater. Some of the oxen wanted to

jump out into the middle and they hada h^rd time holding them.

Mining on such a small scale wascalled "placer mining." There arefour steps in getting the pure goldfrom the gravel beds. The first stepwas to get the gravel out of the bedof the river. This was done by build-ing a wing dam part way across thestream and drain the lower side of it.

They could readily get the rock andgravel out this way.They got their gold from the Feath-

er and the Yuba rivers.

Some Mexicans rode into the claimone day and demanded gold. Some of

the men at the camp fired upon thegreasers and they drove away fasterthan they came.

£109]

The second step of placer miningwas done by means of a rocker and aminer's pan, which removed all thelarger rocks.

To get the sand out they washedit with quicksilver. The gold wouldsettle to the bottom and the sand ontop.

The fourth and last step was get-ting the quicksilver out of the gold.If they boiled it the quicksilver wouldevaporate and leave the pure gold.By condensing the quicksilver it couldbe used again and again.

In California the groceries costfrom fify cents to a dollar a pound,and a one hundred pound sack of flourcost one hundred and fifty dollars.December of 1855 found Charles

crossing the Isthmus of Darien. towhich he had come on a steamer fromSan Francisco, and from which he wasgoing to sail to New York. FromNew York to Mendota he took hisfirst train ride. He walked to TroyGrove, seven miles, a very small un-dertaking for him who had walked somany miles to California.

A PIONEERBy Eileen Sunken, Dist. 13

In the year of 1856, Mary Dorff(now Mrs. Mary Willavize) came fromPhiladelphia with her parents to seeka new home in Illinois. They camefrom Philadelphia through Chicago toLa Salle by train. They brought all

their things with them. At La Sallethey hitched a team of horses to awagon and came to Magnolia, throughmud axle deep, and settled two mileswest of the village.

This country at that time wasprairie and timber, with manyswamps. Game was plentiful. Therewere fish of all kinds in the streams.It was nothing new to find your roofcovered with quail and prairie chick-ens in the morning. It often hap-pened that deer would get stuck inthe marshes. Men would go and helpthem out. They would not kill thembecause they could get one wheneverthey wanted it. The small childrenwould not be left outside to play be-cause the wolves were hiding near toget them.They had no money to buy matches.

They put old rags into a box andcharred them. Thev had a flint anda piece of steel. These they strucktogether until a spark fell in the boxof burnt rags and they started to burn.They got their light from this to startfires and light their candles. Theironly fuel was wood, but it was plenti-ful.

Here in Illinois they met with manyhardships. They brought all theirhorses with them. The change in

Philadelphia's sandy soil to Illinois'

black mud caused a disease in thehorses feet. This caused their feetto swell and legs to well to a verylarge size. Of that disease they lost

all but one horse. A kind neighborloaned them a horse and cow.They got so hard up for shoes that

they cut up the gun cases and madeshoes of the leather. Just before theycame to Illinois, Mrs. Dorff made somenew quilts. The children neededclothes so bad that Mrs. Dorff cut upsome of these quilts and made clothesout of them.At this time eggs were worth only

two or three cents a dozen and some-times you could not sell them. Theyfed them to the pigs. At the sametime a spool of thread cost twenty-fivecents. They used the threads of clothor pieces of string from the twin forthread.

In case of sickness they used homeremedies. Some were made from theroots of different things, some ofherbs and vegetables.They had a small variety of vege-

tables and had small gardens. Theydid not buy their seeds, but kept theirown to plant. Even the cabbage, tur-nip, beet, and carrot they kept to plantnext year to get seed.They did not have large orchards

or a few fruit trees. They got theirfruits from the timber. They gotwild crabs, cherries, mulberries andwild grapes. If fruit was plentifulthey would dry it for winter use, forthey knew nothing of canning.They had no corn planters so they

used something like a bob-sled. Withthis they went up and down the field

and then crosswise. This is whatthey called "checking." Several per-sons went with hoes and made holeswhere these lines crossed. The chil-

dren would follow with a small sackof shelled corn and put a certain num-ber of kernels in each hill. Severalpersons would follow and cover theseed. They could plant a fair-sized

piece in a day. They gathered thecorn when it was ripe. During thewinter months they shelled the corn

[110]

by hand. After they shelled it theyput it in sacks.The oats and wheat were sowed by

hand. It was cut by a cradle, some-thing like a sickle. Men followed andtied it in bundles. Then they made a

large wooden platform. They put theoat bundles or wheat bundles on this

and beat them with long poles called

"flails," until the grain fell out. Inlater years they stacked the oat orwheat bundles. Then they put thethreshing machine near this and

threshed the grain. This was doneearly in the spring.The people in those days went to

town in wagons drawn by horses or

oxen. They had yokes and tugs onthe oxen, but no lines. They wereguided by "Gee" and "Haw."The first train, or "iron horse," as

it was called, came through Varna.When people thought it was time for

the train to come they got on top of

the cabins and in trees to see it.

A PIONEER OF DISTRICT 286By Charles Schmitz, Dist. 286

My paternal great-grandfather,whose name was John Huelzer, wasborn in an obscure town of Germanyon May 27, 1827, of poor parents.As all German boys are taught a

trade, my great-grandfather wastaught to carve wood, which later

played an important part in payingfor his livelihood.

He was married to Cecelia Fox-tarris, a young girl of seventeen.After being married they heard of theland we call America. They heard it

described as "the land of opportu-nities." They boarded a large sail-

boat bound for America. It was inthe spring of 1851, and the weatherwas usually calm, and after a delight-ful voyage of six weeks they caughtsight of the forms of buildings onStaten Island.

They landed in New York, whichwas the largest city they had everseen. Here they first learned of thedispute over slavery and formed anopinion immediately.They started West with a train of

people bound for Illinois. They stop-ped in Chicago and settled. He workedin factories, and in his spare time heinvented the first practical merry-go-round. He carved the horses out ofwood by hand and made the wholething mostly of wood.He was never satisfied, so he packed

up his few belongings and moved onthe construction train of the Rock Is-

land railroad, which was then beingbuilt between Chicago and Peru, apromising young city on the banks ofthe Illinois river. He got a job in aplaning mill where he worked fornineteen years. He secured his payin gold. Of this gold he saved a largeamount. He traded this for green-backs, receiving two dollars andeighty cents in greenbacks for everygold dollar. By this deal he made a

small fortune, because paper moneyimmediately began to rise in value.With this he was able to buy an

eighty acre farm, about five milesnortheast of Mendota, in section four-teen. Mendota was then a small pros-perous city, with two good railroads.As there were no buildings on this

farm, he and his family of seven wereforced to live in a schoolhouse whichhe moved from the land across theroad, owned by Mr. Meath. The landwas mostly swampy, so he and hissons set about to drain a slough. Hebegan by digging a small ditch. Theneighbors, Mr. Mclntyre, Mr. Meathand Mr. McGinnis, made similarditches in their places. This ditchwashed out its banks until it is nowa large creek and is known as theLittle Vermilion.

This slough land is very fertile andthis farm raised the best of crops.

Before this slough was drained, mygreat-grandfather erected anothermerry-go-round and placed this on theice. This provided winter sport forall of the neighboring children.

After living for several years in aschoolhouse he decided it was toosmall for a family of seven and im-mediately made plans for the buidingof a larger and more satisfactorydwelling place. He erected in 1877 amodern nine-room house, which is still

standing. He carved the window anddoor sills by hand and sandpapered all

of the woodwork.After living in this house a short

time he decided to retire. He boughta house in Mendota, where he died

November 10, 1912, and was interred

in the Catholic cemetery north of

Mendota.Shortly after coming here from

Peru, Helena, his daughter, was mar-ried to William Schmitz, who was my

[111]

paternal grandfather. He was fromPeru, where he had met his wife.He bought this farm of my great-

grandfather and lived there until1909, when he retired and my parentsthen moved on the place and livedthere until my father's death in 1927.My mother and her three childrenlived there until March, 1932, whenshe moved to another farm.

This house is full of pleasant mem-ories and you may be sure it was withmany heart aches and backward looksthat we left this house, but it wasnecessary because of the death of mygrandmother, Helena Schmitz, whoowned the place, and the heirs wantedtheir money.

This story was supplied by CharlesHuelzer, of Centralia, Missouri.

LIFE OF JOHN COOPERBy Harriettee F. Wakeman, Dist. 5

Mr. John Cooper was born August18, 1830, in Pennsylvania. He livedwith his parents until he was twenty-six years old. He and his father thencame West to look for new land. Theycame on a train as far as La Salle.The next year he returned and broughthis young bride. She described hernew country as "nothing but sky andsod." They had to go 12 miles to thenearest post office, and their nearestneighbors were several miles away.

In 1857 he erected a one and a halfstory house on the land he bought.He bought the place for $1.25 an acre.He built the road running past hishouse. He plowed and harrowed it;

later it was graded and put in thepresent condition.

In those days they had no roads,highways or automobiles. They trav-eled on horseback and in buggies.They had a few paths which theywent on, and they cut through pas-tures to get to their destintaion.The land then was mostly all

prairie. Where people lived theywould cultivate the land and put it inwheat. In those days they raised butlittle corn.

In April, 1857, they could carryfifteen bushels of wheat in a wagonacross the ice without cracking it.

The post office in Rutland was in abox under the porch of a hotel. Thehotel was a four-room house.When the war came, Lincoln called

for volunteers. Mr. Cooper, then onlythirty-two, enlisted in the 104th Illi-

nois Volunteer Infantry August 9,1862. He marched with Sherman tothe sea, and was imprisoned at Ander-sonville, Georgia. He was in the bat-tle of Hartsville, Kentucky, whereforty-four of his company were killed,one hundred and fifty wounded, andthe living taken prisoners. Mr. Cooperwas uninjured and was committed tothe prison for six months. He wasreleased in an exchange of prisonersat the ypAtf

-^?fffi j:!3ltl5Bld

mediately plunged into the thick ofbattle again. He was in the battle ofPeach Tree Creek; in the fighting ofUtoy Creek, at Mission Ridge. ' Heescaped unscratched in the terribleLookout Mountain encounter. He wasat Ransacka, Jonesboro and Benton-ville—all historical locations—in theCivil war.

Mr. Cooper finished the war with-out a wound, although he was in themost terrific of the fighting through-out. Fe was discharged June 6. 1865,more than sixty-seven years ago.

After the war Mr. Cooper cameback to Illinois and re-etsablished hishome. He was a good farmer, goodfather, and made a wonderful homefor his children, giving them all agood education. He had nine chil-dren, of whom seven are living.When John Cooper celebrated his

one hundredth birthday all his chil-dren were there except one, Howard,who lives in California. Those pres-ent were Mrs. Suetta Cledge, of Rut-land; Mrs. Ada Lawther, of Streator;Miss Clara Cooper, at home; Wayne,who lives near by working on his fa-ther's farm; Wilmot, of Oregon, andMrs. Anna Bradish, of South Dakota.The pioneer mother died twenty-fiveyears before.

There was just one wish he had athis birthday celebration and that was"I wish mother could have been here."He has never used tobacco except

during the war. He attributed hislong life to outdoor exercise and good,clean living.

When the telegrams and letters ofgreeting came to the Cooper home onthe day of his celebration, he was ableto read all of them without glasses.

Mr. Cooper had the distinction ofseeing Shabbona, the great Indianchief. Shabbona was on his way toBloomington and passed by Mr. Coop-er's house.

Mr. Cooper has lived to see Wash-ington's centennial and bi-centennial.

V!?

[112]

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA

977.327F81S C002STORIES OF PIONEER DAYS IN LA SALLE COUN

3 0112 025388411