Hancock
County Biographies
Blue River
Township
Elijah
Tyner
The subject of this sketch was born
in Abbeville District, South
Carolina, in 1797. He was the second son of the Rev. William Tyner, a
Baptist minister, who removed from South Carolina to Kentucky in the
year 180:, and from thence to Indiana in 1805, near Brookville ; thence
to Decatur county. At the age of twenty one Mr. Tyner was married to
Martha McCure, of Franklin county. In 1820 he came to Hancock county,
or the territory now comprising the county, which the reader will
remember was not organized till eight years afterward; and even
Madison, from which Hancock was struck off in 1828, was not organized
till 1823. In 1821, September 19, he entered eighty acres of land in
Blue river township, being the third entry made in the county. The
first entry was made August 10. 1821. by Harmon Warrum, and the second
August 23. by James Tyner. In 182: Mr. Tyner married Mary Nelson, who
died in 1830. In 1832 he was again married, this time to Sarah Ann
Hollerston. Mr. Tyner was one of the staunch pioneers, coming into the
county within two years from the first settlement made by the
pale-face." As a merchant, he was honest and accommodating, and
thereby gained the esteem of all who knew him. Elsewhere we have shown
that he was not only a pioneer merchant, stock trader and farmer, but
he was the first in the county to give any attention to horticulture,
having set out an orchard in the year 1822, according to the best
information now at hand. Mr. Tyner also acted as a kind of common
carrier between the early settlers and the market. As a father, he was
kind-hearted and gentle. Ht: raised a large family, and provided well
for them. As a neighbor, he was highly respected on account of his many
amiable qualities. In politics, he was a whig and republican, but
liberal in his views. He was a Baptist in faith, but by no means a
bigot- He liberally supported the church, and every good cause found in
him a friend and substantial encouragement. His remains lie buried in
Shiloh cemetery, near his home, where loving hands have erected a
stately monument to mark his last resting place.
Adam
Allen's Pioneer Life
Adam Allen, with his family, came to
Blue river township. Hancock county, Indiana, in December, 1827. He
moved into a small log cabin covered with clapboards: half of the floor
was of rough slabs: the front and other half was simply the earth made
smooth and pounded firm. The fire-glace and chimney were very rude,
made of rock, mud iiml sticks. It would admit a back log of six or
seven feet in length. The loft was made of rough
boards.
There was not then a public road in
the township; only u path "blazed"
through the woods to a distant neighbor's cabin. He had but one
neighbor within less than a mile, and that was James Wilson, who had
settled two years before on the farm now occupied by Augustus Dennis.
About 1830. while a man moving into
the township was crossing the small
stream that flows south, asked the name of the creek. Being told that
it had none, he said : It is a ' nameless creek;' which name it
still retains.
When the Allens came, almost the
whole surface of the earth was covered
with undergrowth, which consisted of spice brush, pea vines, and coarse
grass. Cattle and horses subsisted on it nearly the whole year. Hogs
fattened on the mast almost entirely, and were penned only for a
few days before killing time, and then that they might be fed a little
corn to harden the lard. There was an abundance of wild gooseberries,
plums and ginseng. "The latter I have often gathered," says Thompson
Allen, his son, •' and dried for market, which sold at about
twenty five cents per pound." There were wolves, wild cats, turkeys,
and white and black squirrels in great numbers; and in the summer and
fall, when the corn was ripening, the daily employment of the boys was
to scare the squirrels away from the cornfield.
Mr. Allen's plow was of the old
wooden mold-board kind. He cut his
wheat with a sickle, and either carried or hauled it on a sled ; then
threshed it out with a flail on a dirt floor. If the wind was blowing,
lie would clean it by standing and slowly pouring the wheat to the
ground in a small stream, letting the wind blow the chaff away.
If there was no wind, then two
persons with a sheet would fan while a
third poured the wheat.
For several years he had no
cook stove ; all the cooking was done
by the tire. The johnny-cake board was as common then as a tea-kettle
is now.
They had no apples, peaches, or tame
fruits, but substituted
pumpkins, and, of course, were very familiar with pumpkin pies. Dried
pumpkins were laid up in the fall. which served for dessert when they
had company or on Sunday mornings for breakfast. On one occasion Mr.
Allen went out to a mill on flat Rock, and on his return brought home
with him about half a bushel of apples, the first ever seen by the
children. The mother gave each of them an apple, and put the rest away
in the loft, telling them that, as she now had some flour, they must
not touch the apples, and she would make some pies. That night Thompson
Allen woke up, and hearing the boards rattle, looked in the direction
of the apples, and presently saw something white descending, which
proved to be one of his brothers, who could not refrain from the
unfrequent temptation of satisfying a keen appetite super induced by
that one apple.
The first school-house in the north
part of the township was built on
the southern part of Noble Warrum's farm, in section six, township
fifteen. It was made of logs, and had live corners. It was not chinked
and daubed ; had no windows and but one door. A man by the name of
Sanford taught the first school therein. The second school was
taught by Mr. McPherson. One day a boy had done something contrary
to the "rules," and the teacher, to punish him, made him go outdoors
and climb up in a dogwood sapling; he then detailed another boy to
stand at the foot of the bush and keep him up there.
In 1844," says Thompson Allen. "I
commenced teaching school. The
price then was about thirty dollar, per term of sixty five days, about
ten dollars of it being public money. The law required teachers to have
certificates, but the examinations were not very
rigid. Once I went to Greenfield to get license. I
told the examiner what I wanted. He said: " How long will you be in
town? Call before you go home, and I will have them ready. I am busy
now.' I called, gave him fifty cents, his fee, and received my license,
without being asked a single question.
The first man that preached in the
northern part of the township was
Father McClain, the father-in-law of Wesley Williams, of Jackson
township.
Adam Allen was a strong, robust,
honest and honorable man a good
representative of the majority of the early settlers of the country.
[We are indebted to Thompson Allen,
Esquire, and James K. Allen,
teacher, son and grandson of the above, for most of the foregoing
facts.]
James
L. Binford
James L. Binford was born October 10,
1787, in Prince George county, N-C, and came to
Hancock county in 1826, and was one of the first settlers of Blue river
township. He was married to Mary Ladd in 1817, by whom he had five
children, viz.: Robert, Ann, Joseph, Benjamin, and William L. Mr. B.
was married a second time to Jane Binford, to whom were born one child.
In politics, Mr. B. was a staunch whig ; and, notwithstanding his
father had owned and worked slaves, he was bitterly opposed to the
accursed traffic, and never hesitated to denounce it in the strongest
terms consistent with his Christian profession. When in health he was
regular in attendance at the place of worship with the Society of
Friends, the church of his choice, twice or more per week.
Mr. B. was a very plain-spoken man.
yet kind-hearted. and ever ready to
help the worthy poor. He was also very conscientious, and although he
loaned a great deal of money for his tim;, he was never known to
accent more than six per cent, interest, nor usury in any form. By
industry, strict economy, and the avoidance of all vicious
and luxurious habits, he succeeded in
amassing a neat fortune, and
was thereby enabled to do much for charitable purposes, and to give
each of his five children a quarter of a section of good land, and has
much more in ready cash. He died August 19, 1863, aged seventy five
years, eleven months and eighteen days, and was buried according to the
simple custom of the Friends at the Walnut Ridge burying grounds, in
Rush county, Indiana. His first wife died in 1822, and was buried in
North Carolina, and his second December 14, 1867, at the age of
seventy nine years and nine months, and was buried beside her husband.
Elihu
Coffin, Sen.
The subject of this sketch is a
native of Clinton county, Ohio. Date of
nativity, March 31, 1807. He was principally raised in North
Carolina ; came to Milton, Indiana, in 1828 and remained till 1831,
when he came to Hancock county, and shared with the few settlers the
privations and hardships of frontier life. The roads were to make, the
forests were to clear, the wild animals to exterminate, and the
physical man to provide with food, clothing and shelter. The first
winter Mr. Coffin was in the county he. in common with many others, did
without bread for weeks at a time, owing to the mills being frozen up
so that they could not grind, there being no steam mills in those days.
They lived on potatoes, pumpkins, and wild game.
Mr. Coffin has traveled quite a good
deal, has a retentive memory,
and takes great pleasure in telling of the sights. From 185010 1852 he
lived in Iowa; thence he wended his way across the plains to the gold
regions of California, where, for two years, he had an experience
brighter in imagination than in reality. From California Mr. C.
returned to Iowa, by way of Panama, New York and Chicago. But still not
contented with any point yet visited between the Atlantic and Pacific,
save on Unfertile, salubrious soil of old Hancock, lie determined
in retrace his steps, and accordingly, in 1865, permanently located in
Blue river township; where, with the wife of his bosom and the
companion of his travels, he is enjoying a peaceful old age; and
would, doubtless, take pleasure in telling the reader a hundred
fold more than we have recorded.
Mr. C. is a square built, muscular
man, a good Mason, a republican, and
an orthodox Friend.
Personal
Sketch of Augustus Dennis
Mr. Dennis was born in Virginia in
June, 1827 ; came to Hancock county
in 1844; was married to Miss Jemima C. Tyner in October, 1847. Mr. D.
was bred on a farm, and has given that branch of industry his whole
attention. He came to the county a poor boy, with only twelve and
one half cents in his pocket, and worked at eight dollars per month. He
now has a good farm in fine state of cultivation.
Mr. D. is an uncompromising democrat,
yet he accords to others what he
asks for himself, liberty to think and act for himself. He has ever
since early manhood been identified with some religious society,
connecting himself first with the Methodists, and later becoming a
member of the Friends Society, as it best suited his opinions and
convenience, without the sacrifice of any vital principle taught
by the church of his first choice.
Mr. D. was elected county
commissioner for the first commissioner's
district in 1878 over Elisha Earles, a worthy opponent, by 3,000
majority.
He has always taken a decided stand
on the side of temperance, both by
example and precept, and even hesitated to qualify as
commissioner, owing to the relation of the office with the licensing of
the traffic.
Sketch
of the Pioneer Life of Harmon
Warrum.
(Furnished by his son,
Honorable Noble Warrum.)
Harmon Warrum was a Kentuckian by
birth, the son of an Englishman who
went to Kentucky from Pennsylvania in an early day. and who was
recognized as an expert with the rifle, and also a proficient
backwoodsman, being constantly employed as scout and trailer. He died
when the subject of the above sketch was quite it child, leaving him in
the care of an uncle, whose name was Thomas Consley. on whom fell the
duty of educating him for the stern realities of frontier life which he
was destined 10 experience. After arriving at majority, he became a
rather cool, self possessed man, endowed with great courage and
physical ability. He was quick to resent a wrong and never forgot a
kindness. Me was an active, strong man, having fought, wrestled and run
with both whites and reds, but never vanquished.
He came to Indiana about the year
1807, and in 1809 nr 1810 married a
young lady of English descent, who had lately emigrated from Georgia.
Her name was Edith Butler. I was born in 1819, and when about four
years of age my father moved to Hancock county (then a part of
Madison), and settled 00 Blue River, in the southern part of the
county, and took a title for the land now owned and occupied by Dayton
II. Gates, Esq. This was the first piece of land entered in the county;
he also entered the last piece situated on Swamp Creek, the first on
August 10. 1821, and the last on January 16, 1854.
When he first came to Blue river it
was a dense wilderness for
miles and miles; no sound save the rustling of the leaves, the moaning
of the wind, and the angry voice of the storm cloud ; no music broke
the calm stillness of the summer air save the buzzing of mosquitoes,
the howling of the ravenous wolves, or the fierce yell of the prowling
panther; no noisy hum of laboring factories; no clanking hammers in
dusty shops. No. the great workhouse of nature, covered with the blue
canopy of heaven, walled in only by the horizon, and lit up by nature's
lamps, sufficed. Then we heard no ringing of Sabbath church bells
; no locomotive whistle. Had a train of cars passed through the country
at that time, the pioneers would have declared it haunted.
Our nearest neighbors, about seven or
eight miles distant, living
on Brandywine, were the families of Roberts, Montgomery and Stephenson;
but after awhile here came the Tyners and Johnses ; also, Penwells,
Watts and Wilsons to our immediate neighborhood. But neighbors living
then at a distance of eight or ten miles apart were more neighborly
than those of to-day in adjoining lots. Well, as neighbors kept coming,
cabins were being put up in every direction. Everything in a bustle,
and all ai work that could work. The pioneer cabin was cheaply made and
easily constructed. Ours was built of round logs. notched to lay
closely
together; the roof was of four foot clapboards, weighed down by poles
laid across each course of boards; then there was what was termed the
'"eaves bearer," a log laying parallel with the ends of the cabin, and
projecting about eighteen inches over the wall; a good splitting stick
was selected, split through the center. placed on the ends of the
"eaves bearer," and notched for the roof boards to butt against; this
was called the 11 butting pole" ; a door-way was sawed out, and the
logs were used as steps ; then a window was cut, a single opening
; we called it a window because it was the largest hole in the cabin to
let in the light; it was made by placing sticks across as a frame-work,
on which a piece of greased newspaper was placed; through this the
light shone like dim moonshine through the room; the chimney was built
of sticks and mud, and was called "cat and clay chimney." While
this rude nut was being constructed by father, mother, . hired hand
from a distance, and my oldest sister, the family were living,
with all of their household goods, in a hollow sycamore tree.
After moving into our new house, we
furnished it with a couple of
one legged bedsteads, produced by father's own hands; and he not being
a professional mechanic, they were, consequently, not so stylish as
those from the factories of today. But I rested just as easy on them
as many do to-day on their seventy five dollar bedsteads.
Then the doors were of
puncheons pinned together.
Such a thing as a nail was not to be
had. The hinges were of wood, and
the door latch, a wooden catch, or trigger, which, when shut, was
opened from the outside by [lulling a string, one end of which was
fastened to the latch, and the other, passing through a hole in the
door above, hung outside, so that those who wished could enter. To lock
the door, you would pull the string inside. Hence the stereotyped
expression, "the latch-string hangs out."
Hull" the floor, which was made of
puncheons lying loosely across the
sleepers, was not finished for about a year after we moved into our
cabin home. The hired man soon left, declaring that he would stay no
longer where the air was black with gnats and mosquitoes. Said he; "If
they were the size of me, I would light them; but they are just a
little too small and too many to keep company with." I have seen
the air darkened by flies, gnats, and mosquitoes, a number of them
weighing over a pound : but I can't say that it would take a small
number.
The winters passed on slowly, but we
had always an excellent supply of
venison on hand. Being an excellent marksman, father's table groaned
under the abundant supply of turkies and deer; but it was an
impossibility to procure salt with which to preserve the venison.
It was then necessarily taken through a process called "jerking." This
operation was performed by cutting the fleshy parts of the body of the
deer, cross grained, into thin slices, which were duly placed on splits
and hung inside of our "cat and clay chimney" and garret to dry, after
which process it would keep from months to years. When in very great
need of salt, father would make his way back to Wayne county in quest
of that rare article. I remember on one occasion, after his
journey of riding one horse and leading the other, on whose back the
salt was strapped, that when we had removed the bag of salt, we
removed the hair also, for the brine caused by the melting if"
the
salt had lain bare the sides of the horse.
The first mill of the neighborhood
was at Fall Creek Falls,
afterwards called Fall Creek Mills. The distance
being about twenty five miles, father imagined it quite convenient
for milling. And as he was a skillful backwoodsman, and had some
knowledge of the route and locality, it was agreed that h * should take
his yoke of oxen and the fore wheels of his wagon, and with a ' turn
of corn " for himself and each of his neighbors, cut his may through to
Fall Creek Mills. Preparing himself with ammunition and his gun,
followed by his trusty dog, he blazed" his way through the thick
forest. And after receiving his grinding, he started ,upon his homeward
journey ; at night, coralling" his oxen and making his bed under his
cart, he made his dog lie at his feet as a protection from the wolves.
One night the wolves approached where he was laying, and the poor dog
kept crawling higher and higher until he lay on father's face. He awoke
and frightened the wolves away. When he returned home, after being
absent four or five days, he was sure to bring in some four or five
pairs of venison hams, the same number of deer skins, three or four
wild cats, and about a dozen raccoon skins. Those deer skins were very
useful, as I was clothed almost entirely in buckskin, dressed by my
father's hand and cut and sewed with whang, or thongs, by the hand of
my mother. Father always kept on hand from six to a dozen dressed deer
skins. And when my mother would treat me to a new pair of buckskin
breeches, I felt very proud, and would hang on to my old ones as long
as possible to save my new ones for Sunday. Occasionally I was
presented with a buckskin hunting shirt, a loose at the bottom and
tight at the top arrangement similar to a sack coat, having a cape
which hung over the shoulders, fringed all around by splitting the cape
into threads for some two or three inches from the edges, similar to
the fly nets we cover horses with to-day. I have attended dances where
all of the young men were incased in their buckskin suits. Then
the girls were neatly attired in plain dress. Little did they care for
outside show. They lived for something higher than an earthly fancy.
They looked not after the fashions of the day. They
had pride, it is true, but wisdom too. Their pride was for their home
and country, and they labored for its upbuilding. They were good for
the sake of goodness, and truer, better wives were never known. And in
a few years they became very attractive to me, especially the younger
ones. It seems that it did not take as much to beautify them then as
now. I thought them the most beautiful of God's creation. None of those
humps and tucks and frills, nor ribbon and lace and birds tails placed
on top of their heads.
Prayer meetings were organized, to
which ladies would walk a distance
often of from four to five miles ; but the meetings were held almost
always in the day-time. On one occasion it way announced that the Rev.
James Havens (father of George) would preach at the widow Smith's
cabin, on a certain night. Night meetings being few, I attended, as
much through curiosity as anything else, it being a rare thing to hear
preaching; it was always exhorting. Some time during service the dogs
got to fighting at the door, causing considerable confusion, which soon
subsided ; then the Rev. Havens took time to remark that the devil and
the dogs always attended night meetings.
Almost every pioneer who attended
church on the Sabbath, came with
gun on his shoulder; and if a deer or wolf crossed his track, and a
favorable opportunity presented, he killed it. They were
wide awake and always on the lookout. And thus they were supplied with
provisions. Father once killed three deers without, probably.
moving from his tracks. The way of it was this: Father was out on a
hunting expedition, walking through the forest, gun on shoulder, and I
was riding a little distance behind, when we suddenly came upon three
good sized deer, one was an old one, while the others were
apparently yearlings grazing peacefully along, until the
well known crack of my father's rifle laid the old one low ; the fawns
stood watching their mater in the agonies of death until father, twice
reloading, placed a veil between them and the painful sight, one
falling
dead on the spot, the other running some fifty yards before
falling. I was. on that occasion, on horseback, a
very common thing, for the purpose of carrying in the game; frequently
coming loaded with a dozen turkies. Usually in cool weather we tore out
the entrails from the deer, and placing the end of a pole in the body
would run it up a tree, thus preventing the wolves from making a meal
of it; and, if there was snow on the ground, we visited them soon, and,
lashing them together with withes, hitched them to a horse and dragged
them home on the snow. If there was no snow, we took them the best way
possible.
Often a bear would lurk forth and
attack some lonely pioneer's
hog pen, or poultry house, or sheep-fold. Father kept his sheep in a
pen a little in the rear of the house. This was to be able to protect
them from the wolves, whose growls and snarls were heard many times at
the fold. As a surer way of protecting the sheep, father went to Wayne
county and procured two savage curs. They could drive away or
whip any wolf, but were never able to hold them until assistance
arrived. From constant running, dogs were taken with a disease
called the "slows." Father thought a great deal of his dogs, but lost
them. One was bitten by a rattlesnake and died. It was no uncommon
thing to kill from twenty to twenty five black rattlesnakes in a day.
On one occasion my father returned
from Shelby (there was no
Shelbyville then, there being only a small blacksmith shop where
it now stands), followed to the house by a pack of wolves.
Soon after Mr. Penwell settled in our
vicinity. He came to father's
house one morning and solicited his assistance, telling him that a
large bear had attacked his hogs, killing one and devouring it within a
stone's throw of the house. They got father's bear dogs on the trail,
and followed it as far as the Big Swamp, on Brandywine, where all trace
of it was lost, never getting sight of it but once. Our experience in
backwoods life was full of such incidents.
A large eagle had built a nest, not
far from our house, in a very large
sycamore tree. After a great many trials, my father brought his trusty
rifle and unerring aim to bear upon this •' monarch of the clouds," and
brought him to the ground severely wounded. He was then attacked by the
dog, who soon drew off much the worse for the wear, having the skin
ripped open at the back and hanging down on either side. When at last
he yielded, we stretched his wings apart, to find that they were eleven
and one halt feet from tip to tip.
About this time there was a tanyard,
the first there had been in the
county, established a short distance south of Cleveland, by a Mr. Wood.
To this we went for our tanned hog skin, with which we soled our
moccasins. It wore very well; but if left too near the fire, the soles
would curl up and burst off, and were to be tacked on every morning; so
it became necessary for us to rise quite early for that as well as for
earning our daily bread, which was some times more than half pumpkins,
meal being scarce; this was called pumpkin bread.
Pumpkins being our only fruit, so to
speak, we took pains to preserve
them. First, we peeled them, hung some of them on poles, placed some of
them in the garret, and some in the lower room, to dry. Frequently they
were boiled, mashed fine, spread thin and smooth on a board, and dried
into what was called " pumpkin leather." This was reserved for use when
the pumpkins were gone. This was made into delicious pumpkin pies. The
country was new and the people
were few; But what there were, were brothers;
They'd never eat this savory meat til they shared it with their
brothers.
The first physician in my father's
house was an old doctor from near
where Freeport now stands, an old and venerable physician by name of
Dr. Tracy. The second was Dr. Lot Edwards, one of the first doctors in
Greenfield. The Settlers in those days were principally their 6
own M. D.'s, using roots and herbs instead of drugs and liquors. The
medicinal properties of plants were learned, to a large extent, from
straggling Indians, whom the settlers saw quite often, sometimes
in small tribes.
These old pioneers, when gathered
together, were not quarreling over
the political issues of the day. They left that to those occupying the
higher positions. They were not in the habit of gathering to listen to
flighty orations, but simply sitting around giving their hunting
narration's, encounters with bears, struggling against want, and
sufferings from mosquitoes. The world turned the same then as
now, and turned just as easily, too. And I firmly believe that were our
country thrown back into a wild condition, where nature's
handiwork alone shone forth: replace these smooth, unbroken meadows
with mighty branching oaks, towering maples and spreading beech: let
deer, with arched necks and stately step, their haughty antlers bowed
as they graze from the abundance of wild grass lining the little
rivulet, abound; let the hoarse and angry growls of ever famished
wolves be heard; the rustling of the leaves and breaking of limbs, over
which the sluggish bears are stalking; together with the life-like cry
of unseen panthers, the howling of wild cats and the screaming of
eagles, and people it with the same people of to-day, it would go to
the dogs, and the people eventually starve. This arises from a
different kind of education. Those pioneers were men of iron wills and
nerves of steel. They were endowed with a knowledge of the
difference between right and wrong. Truth and honesty beamed from
every countenance. They were industrious as well as adventurous. Though
they loved the wild and savage backwoods life, they were working for
the promotion of civilization. They knew none but the school of
experience. At their touch the mighty monarchs of the forest turned to
dust and ashes. At their glance the wild beast cowered. For their
children and their posterity they toiled and denied themselves the
luxuries of civilized life. "The latch string always hung outside of
the door," so that the weary pilgrim of life might enter. You had but
to ask, and you would receive. They toiled. They practiced self denial.
For what? For their children. For the upbuilding of a civilized
country. Have they not achieved success? Look around you. Whence came
these cities and towns, with their factories and shops and mills and
beautiful buildings and churches? Whence came these lovely farms, with
their orchards of luscious fruits, their fields of waving corn, their
ripe meadows, and gem-like lots of golden wheat? Had you an ear for
nature's song, these would fill your ears with praises for those hardy
pioneers, some of whom, much to the discredit of those for whom they
toiled, are still in the field, a few of them barely keeping want from
their doors. They lived, as God intended you and I and every one should
live, by the sweat of the brow, determined to earn their bread before
eating it. Many of them, like Columbus, never lived to enjoy what they
achieved, but we hope are repaid by heavenly comfort.
Brandywine
Township
William
H. Porter
The subject of this sketch was born
May 10, 1810, near Dayton, Ohio. He
came to Fayette county with his parents at the age of eighteen.
He run on the river as flat boatman
for four years from Kanawha Salt Springs, W. Va., to New Orleans, at
fifty cents per day.
In 1832 he came to Hancock county and
entered one hundred and sixty
acres of land in Brandywine township, where he remained till his death,
in 1866.
His remains rest in Mt. Lebanon
cemetery, near his farm.
He was a successful, prosperous
farmer in his time.
He raised three sons. J. W. and F. M.
Porter are both respectable
citizens and prosperous farmers in their native township. William H.
Porter is engaged in butchering in Greenfield
.
Mrs.
Isaac Roberts.
This good lady, the mother of John
Roberts, is the oldest resident
citizen in Brandywine township, having come to the "new purchase" prior
to the organization of the territory into Madison county and settled on
the farm now owned by Marion Steele.
She was married in New York just at
the close of the war of 1812. Her
husband was a faithful, valiant soldier of said war. They came through
on foot, carrying their effects, and crossed the Ohio River in an
Indian canoe. They settled in the dense forest, making a temporary room
by piling brush against a large log and covering it with ' bark until
they could erect a small pole cabin.
There was at that time no roads, and
not a mill within thirty five
miles. Beat hominy, venison and spice wood tea were the chief eatables.
During the Indian troubles following
the " Indian massacre" in Madison
county, of which this later formed a part, her husband and Mr. Rambo
went to Pendleton, the county seat at that time, to attend the trial
and act as guards. There was great uneasiness all over the country at
this time, the whites not knowing at what time they might be murdered
but the justly indignant Indians. These two women remained alone during
their husbands' absence at the trial, a full account of which will be
found further on. During this time one evening Mrs. Roberts, hearing
considerable noise, opened the door to discover the trouble, when Mrs.
Rambo, more thoughtful, bid her come in, which she did just in time to
escape the jaws and claws of a hungry panther, which prowled around and
over the cabin and against the door till the morning light.
Mrs. Roberts tells of another narrow
escape from a panther on a certain
occasion when she and her little boy, eight or ten years of age, were
in the rye patch. She was laying up the gap, when the little boy said,
"Mother, what is that in the weeds?" She, seeing that it was a panther
just in the act of springing on the boy, snatched him from the spot,
and, putting him in front of her, made for the house ; but it was not
so easy to escape the cunning of the blood-thirsty panther, which
intercepted their path in the rye and sprang for the boy, who, being
active, barely succeeded in escaping unhurt. The mother, in seeing the
ferocious beast alight on the spot where her darling boy had just saved
a precious life, was so frightened that she was unable, for some
time,
to move from the spot