Genealogy Trails

Wayne County, Indiana
History

Page 1

Log Cabins

    A description of those early domiciles familiarly called log cabins, and the mode of erecting them, may be interesting to the younger readers, and especially to their descendants, who will never see a structure of this kind. The early settlers, after roads had been opened by cutting away the underbrush, came in on wagons, some of them drawn by four-horse teams. It is said that a few came with their Carolina carts, the wheels of which were banded with wooden tire and pitched with tar. This, however, needs confirmation. Their horses (probably not in all cases) were harnessed in husk collars and rawhide traces. They were wont to stop with their Carolina friends, and partake of their hospitality until a cabin was built. In this they were kindly assisted by those already settled here. A patch of ground having been cleared, they would turn out en masse. Trees of uniform size were selected, cut into pieces of the desired length, and carried or hauled to the spot, which was generally selected near a spring of water, regardless of other considerations. Hence, many afterward found them­selves at an inconvenient distance from roads, and their cabins, perhaps, hid away in some hollow. While the logs were being brought together, others were selecting a board tree, usually an oak of large size. This was cut into pieces about four feet in length with a cross-cut saw, if any were so fortunate as to have one. These pieces were, with a fro and wooden maul, riven into boards, called clapboards. Others, still, would be riving and slitting out narrow pieces for a chimney.

    The cabin was in the meantime rapidly going up. At each corner was an expert hand with an ax to saddle and notch down the logs so low as to bring them near together. The usual height was one story. The gable was made with logs gradually shortened up to the top. The roof was made by laying small logs or stout poles reaching from gable to gable, suitable distances apart, on which were laid the split clap­boards after the manner of shingling, showing two feet or more to the weather. These clapboards were fastened by lay­ing across them heavy poles called weight poles, reaching from one gable to the other; being kept apart and in their places by laying between them sticks, or pieces of timber, called knees. A wide chimney piece was cut out of one end of the building, and split timbers laid up for jambs, flat sides inward, extend­ing out from the building. This little structure supported the chimney which stood entirely outside of the house, and was built of the rived sticks before mentioned, laid up cob-house fashion, gradually narrowed in to the top. The spaces between the sticks were filled with clay of the consistency of common mortar. Hence the name of "stick and clay chimney." The inside of these wooden jambs was covered several feet high with a thick coat of clay or dirt to protect them against lire. The hearth also was dirt. For a window, a piece, two feet long, less or more, was cut out of one of the wall logs, and the bole closed with paper pasted over it. A door-way also was cat /through 000 of the walls, and split pieces called door-cheeks, reaching from the bottom to the top of the opening, were pinned to the ends of the logs with wooden pins. A door was made of split clapboards, battons being nailed on with wrought nails made by a pioneer blacksmith, and was knag with wooden hinges. The interstices or cracks between  were closed with mud.   The larger cracks or chinks, were first partially closed with split sticks before the clay or mud was applied. Some had wooden floors, which, before the days of saw-mills, were made of slabs split from straight grained timber, and called 'puncheons. They were generally hewed on one side, and fastened on log sills with wooden pins. Many a child performed its first locomotion on a puncheon floor, and came in contact, at full length, with the rough surface of those slabs. The cabin was now ready for the family, all the work having in some instances been done in one day.
    Some of the Carolinians brought no bedsteads. A substi­tute was made by boring holes in the walls, into which the ends of strong poles were fitted, the cross pieces resting on forked upright pieces fastened to the puncheon floor, or to the ground, if there were no such floor. This rough frame, overlaid with clapboards, was ready for the feather beds the immigrants had brought with them.
    The internal arrangements of one of these rude dwellings is thus described: The door is opened by pulling a leather string that lifts a wooden latch on the inside. [The inmates made themselves secure in the night season by pulling the string in.] On entering, (it being meal time,) we find a por­tion of the family sitting around a large chest in which their valuables had been brought, but which now serves as a table from which they are partaking their plain meal cooked by a log heap fire. In one corner of the room are two or more clap­boards on wooden pins, displaying the table ware, consisting of a few cups and saucers, and a few blue edged plates, with a goodly number of pewter plates, perhaps standing, single, on their edges, leaning against the wall, to render the display of table furniture more conspicuous. Underneath this cup­board are seen a few pots and perhaps a Dutch oven. Not many chairs having been brought in, the deficiency has been supplied with stools made of puncheon boards with three legs. Over the doorway lies the indispensable rifle on two wooden hooks, probably taken from a dog-wood bush, and nailed to a log of the cabin. Upon the inner wails hang divers garments of female attire made of cotton and woolen fabrics, and perhaps one or two blue and white calico dresses which had done long service in the Carolinas before their transportation hither.
    Among the different ways of lighting log cabins, Rev. Wm.. C. Smith, in his "Indiana Miscellanies," gives the following: " During the day, the door of the cabin was kept open to afford light; and at night, through the winter season, light was emitted from the fireplace, where huge logs were kept burning. Candles and lamps were out of the question for a few years. When these came into use, they were purely domestic in their manufacture. Candles were prepared by taking a wooden rod some 10 or 12 inches in length, wrap­ping a strip of cotton or linen cloth around it, then covering it with tallow pressed on with the hand. These 'sluts/ as they were sometimes called, answered the purpose of a very large candle, and afforded light for several nights. Lamps were prepared by dividing a large turnip in the middle, scraping out the inside quite down to the rind, then inserting a stick, say three inches in length, in the center, so that it would stand upright. A strip of cotton or linen cloth was then wrapped around it, and melted lard or deer's tallow was poured in till the turnip rind was full, when the lamp was ready for use. By the light of these, during the long winter evenings, the women spun and sewed, and the men read when books could be obtained. When neither lard nor tallow could be had, the large blazing fire supplied the needed light. By these great fireplaces, many cuts of thread have been spun, many a yard of Kinsey woven, and many a frock and buckskin pantaloons made."
    Living in houses like those here described, must have been attended with serious discomforts. A single room was made to serve the purposes of kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, bed-room, and parlor. In many families were six, eight, or ten children, who, with their parents, were crowded into one room. In one corner was the father and mother's bed, and under it the trundle-bed for the smaller children. The larger children lodged in the chamber, which they entered by a ladder in another corner; and sometimes made tracks to and from their beds in the snow driven through the crevices by the wind. Nor did their roofs, made of hark or clapboards, protect them from rains in the summer. How visitors who came to spend the night were disposed of, the reader may not easily conceive. Some, as their families increased, added to their houses another room of the same size and manner of construction as the former. Such were the domiciles and the condition of many of the early settlers of Whitewater valley. A few of these men still remain among us, in ops­session of ample fortunes, and in the enjoyment of the con­leniences and improvements of the present age the reward of their early privations and toils.

Clearing Land

    The land in this region was covered with heavy timber and a profusion of undergrowth of various kinds, some bearing wild fruits, as grapes, plums, gooseberries, pawpaw's, crab apples, &etc. The custom of cutting down all the timber at first, as was done in some states, did not prevail here. The bushes were either cut down or grubbed out; and the smaller trees, including all under about eighteen inches in diameter, were chopped down, and their bodies cut into lengths of twelve to fifteen feet, and their brush piled in heaps. The large trees were left standing, and "deadened" by girdling. This was done with an ax, cutting through the bark into the wood all round the trunk, thus causing the death and decay of the tree. After the brush heaps had become sufficiently dried, they were burned. As a "good burn" was desirable, a dry time was generally chosen when the whole surface of the ground would be burned over by the old dried leaves covering it. Soil thus scorched over, would be sure to yield abundantly. Next followed the process of log-rolling, or, as it was in some places called, " logging." The neighbors, having been previously invited, were present with a full supply of handspikes. These were strong poles, about six feet long, of proper thickness, and flattened or tapered at the larger end, in order to its being more easily put under or between the logs. Logs too large to be taken up by hand and carried to a heap, were put upon a number of hand­spikes, and by one or two men at each end of every handspike, carried to the heap. Logs too heavy to be carried, were hauled to the heap by a team and log chain, and rolled up on the pile on skids, handspikes being generally of suffice­cient strength for this purpose. The heaps were then burned, and the ground was ready for tillage.

    An old settler briefly describes the manner of clearing land, as follows: "Where the timber was mostly beech and sugar-tree, the common way was to grub the spice and other bushes, and pile them around the large trees, and cut up the old dead logs. All the trees under 18 or 20 inches in diam­teer were then cut down, and large brush heaps made around all the rest. The brush, when dry, were burned, scorching the trees some 15 or 20 feet high, and killing them sooner than if they had been girdled with an ax. Thus most of the first fields cleared were left with many dead trees. Oak, poplar, and walnut trees would stand many years; but the beech and sugar maple would begin to fall about the third year; and the field must be cleared a second time by taking off the dead timber. After a few years, the trees were dead­ened by hacking them round [girdling] before the land was cleared, and all taken off at once. This was the easier way; but the first settlers could not wait for the trees to decay when they cleared their first fields."
    Another mode of clearing, confined chiefly to the removal of the deadened timber, may be mentioned. Trees that did not fall were cut down. Instead of chopping their bodies into pieces, a mode was adopted requiring less strain of muscle. It was called "niggering." The smaller logs or broken limbs and other rubbish, were thrown across the fallen trees; and fire was applied to them. Once a day, or oftener, it would be necessary for a man to revisit his field to rebuild or renew his fires; or, to use a common phrase, to " right up my niggers." How this use of that word originated, is mere matter of con­jecture. It has been suggested that, as many of the early settlers came from states where labor was performed for men by the power of muscle other than their own, they naturally associated the agency employed in this process, with the servile labor of the South.
Id some of the states, deadening or girdling is not practiced. All the timber is cut down at once, chopped into logs, and the ground cleared and planted or sown the same year, if the crop is so soon desired.
    We subjoin the following from a letter received from an old settler past fourscore: " The principal business in those days was the clearing of land, making fences, &c. Those who hired their land cleared, would pay by the acre for cutting the timber, taking all that was «a foot or under/ or * eighteen inches or under,' as the contract might be, and get it ready for rolling. He that could clear an acre the quickest, and cut and split the most rails in a day, was accounted the most hon­orable. Another test of a man's standing in the estimation of his fellow-men, was the choice made at log-rollings. It was common to choose two captains, who would divide the ground containing the logs to be rolled, one taking the choice of hands, the other the choice of the ground. The men would then stand in a ring fair to be seen, when the captains would proceed to choose, turn about; the first chosen was the most honorable; the last chosen, the reverse."

Fare of the Early Settlers; Bread and other Provisions

    Not the least of the hardships of the pioneers was the pro­curing of bread. The first settlers must be supplied at least one year, sometimes longer, from other sources than their own lands. Many who settled in the eastern part of this county, were obliged, for several years, to make a two or three days' journey to Ohio, going and returning, for their grain and meal. And after they had raised grain for themselves, they had to get grinding done there, until mills were built here. Thomas Bulla, already mentioned as a settler four miles south-east of Richmond,in a "Pioneer Sketch," in the Richmond Palladium of March 13,1856, says he took a grist of his first crop of corn to Bruce's mill near Eaton, 0., 12 miles. Having been badly frost-bitten, it was found unfit for bread, and was fed to his cow. Having no money to buy with, he went to his father-in-law in Ohio, and got nine bushels of corn, for which he was to pay when able. He bought of his brother William 21/2 bushels of wheat which was all he had the first year.

    Settlers had to pack all their grain from the settlements in Ohio on horseback, until they raised a supply at home. Jeremiah Cox, son of the elder Jeremiah, gives an account of packing grain from Ohio, in substance as follows: His father brought some breadstuff with him from the Miami country. This, with the corn he bought with his land from Woodkirk, carried him through the first winter. The corn was ground with an iron hand-mill they had brought with them. It was constructed on the principle of a coffee-mill, but was much larger, and was propelled by two cranks; and he says: " It was believed that it never ground the meal too fine"
    The neighbors joined the next season in blazing out a bridle way to Stillwater, O., for the purpose of packing breadstuff from there on horseback, and Jerry, the son, and one or two others, made one or two trips in that way. But his father thought this too slow a way to supply his large family with bread, and conceived the idea of sending wagons through on the " Quaker trace," as it was called. Jerry took his father's small four-wheeled wagon; and the two fore wheels of their large wagon were " rigged up " for his uncle James Morrisson. Thus equipped, with an ax and three or four days' provisions, they set out on their journey. After a tedious drive over weeds, chunks, logs, and saplings, they reached their place of destination. They procured their lading of good,sound corn; but, to their great disappointment, they were unable to get it ground without staying longer than was deemed expedient; and they accordingly started homeward.
    Having heard that there is a water mill at New Lexington, and that there was a road cut out from Dayton to Eaton by way of New Lexington ; and Cox dreading the grinding of so much hard corn, by hand, he insisted on getting it ground before they returned; to which his uncle Morrisson very reluctantly assented. They traveled from place to place, winding, back­ing, and turning, to almost every point of the compass, until they found the looked-for Dayton road. Traveling along in cheerful mood, they met a man who told them they presently would come to an old " hurricane," through which there was only a bridle way, and there was no possible way round. [The reader perhaps understands, that the word hurricane is
here used to signify a thick second growth of small timber, and not the storm itself, by which the earlier growth had been pros­trated.] The hurricane was soon reached, the saplings stand­ing thick on the ground. They went vigorously to work, and cut their way through, a half mile or more. It was near sunset; and soon coming to a house, they put up for the night.
Early the next morning they were on their way, reached Nesbit's mill at Lexington, got their corn ground, and started for home. But before they had got to Eaton, they sunk into a slough, which, Cox says, answered the descrip­tion Bunyan gives of the " slough of despond." They could extricate themselves only by unloading their wagons, and carrying their sacks of meal on their backs through the swamp to firm ground. To do so, Cox took oft' his shoes and laid them on a log. After a good deal of splashing in the mud, they got their wagons out; but, like the poor u pilgrim," they were much " bedaubed with the filth of the slough." They reloaded their wagons and started on their way. But in the hurry and confusion of the moment, Cox forgot his shoes, and never heard from them afterward. Without any further difficulty, they safely reached home with a good supply of well-ground meal, which was a luxury indeed to the family, after having been fed for some time on meal none too fine, and from corn not sound. They had overstaid their time about two days. Many other cases might be given, showing the difficulty in obtaining this indispensable article of food.
    But the first crops of the earliest settlers, however abun­dant, gave only partial relief. There were no mills to grind the grain. Hence the necessity of grinding by hand power, as in the case mentioned by Cox. Few families, however, it is presumed, were even thus poorly provided with the means of cracking their bread corn.
    Another way was to grate the corn. A grater was made of a piece of tin, sometimes taken from an old worn out tin bucket or other vessel. It was thickly perforated, bent into a semi-circular form, and nailed, rough side upward, on a board. The corn was taken in the ear, and grated before it had become quite dry and hard.
    As early, however, as the fall of 1807, Charles Hunt started a mill on the Elkhorn, a mile above its mouth, which did grinding for the people in the vicinity of Richmond, until Jeremiah Cox built his mill near the present site of Jackson, Swaine and Dunn's Woolen Mills, below the National Bridge. This, like Hunt's, was a tub-mill. The stones were 2J feet in diameter, and ground 2 bushels in an hour. Wm. Bulla built the next mill a short distance north of Richmond. These mills were covered by planting in the ground stout poles with forks at the upper ends, in which were laid poles to support the roof, which was made of split clapboards, after the manner of covering log cabins. "This," says Jerry Cox, " sheltered the hopper and the meal trough pretty well, when the wind didn't blow. A few months after Bulla's mill was built, Cox built one himself where he now lives, six miles north of Richmond. This he sheltered with a log house similar to a log cabin, 20 feet square, covered with a cabin roof in the usual style. In a favorable stage of water, this mill would grind two bushels of frost-bitten corn in an hour. He judges the three last mentioned mills to have cost, in the aggregate, about $500.
    Corn was eaten in various ways. The earliest mode of baking, (cast iron ware being scarce,) was to put the dough on a smooth board, two feet long and six or eight inches wide, placed on the hearth slanting toward the fire. When the upper side was baked, the bread was turned over for baking the other side. When lard was plenty, the bread was well shortened, and called johnny-cake. Some baked in a Dutch oven, when that article could be obtained. Some­times the dough was made into lumps, which, when baked, were called corn-dodgers. Others raised the dough with yeast, and baked it in a Dutch oven. This was called pone, aud was a decided improvement. Mush, or hasty-pudding, eaten in milk, was then a common article of diet, especially for supper. In its green state, corn was boiled in the ear, and sometimes roasted before the fire. Before there were mills near to grind the corn, hominy was much used as a substitute for bread. The corn was soaked in lye made from ashes to loosen the skin, and then pounded in a wooden mortar with a wooden pestle till the skin was peeled off. This was called lye hominy. This mortar is said to have been a piece of a solid, dry log, in one end of which was burned a cavity or hollow of sufficient depth to hold the corn.
    A story is told of an old settler who had on his farm a small stream with a considerable fall, on which he placed a water-wheel, to which he attached a contrivance for raising a heavy piece of timber and dropping it into the mortar holding the corn. Tradition (not always reliable authority) says this mill one day played havoc with its owner's sheep. Leaving the mill at work during a short absence, his sheep, putting their heads into the mortar to eat corn, were struck on their heads by the pestle, and several of them killed.
Our aged friend Cox, among the numerous incidents he has furnished us of "life in the woods," gives the following "bill of fare " of the settlers.    It differs less in the number than in the kinds and quality of the articles in the lists on the tables . of our best modern hotels:
"We had our large hominy and small hominy, large pone, johnny-cake, hoe-cake, and dodgers, boiled dumplings, and fried cakes, all made of corn meal. Of meats we had hog's meat, venison, opossums, raccoons, and squirrels. Of fowls we had wild turkeys, pheasants, wild pigeons and ducks, all of which were cooked in divers ways to suit the taste, or in ac­cordance with the customs of the times. There were in use several kinds of coffee; as, bread coffee, crust coffee, meal cof­fee, potato coffee, and, after wheat was raised, wheat and flour coffee. Those who used the imported had to pay 33 to 50 cents a pound. In the spring we had many kinds of wild weeds boiled for greens to eat with our meat. And for dain­ties on particular occasions, as weddings, quiltings, house rais­ings, and log rollings, we had custards and firmities [boiled wheat], with milk stirred in and sweetened to taste. With maple sugar, this was deemed quite a dainty. For tea, we had sassafras, spicewood, beech leaf, sycamore chips, etc. In the summer and fall we had Irish potatoes; for fall and winter use, pumpkins and turnips in abundance. The pumpkins were dried for winter use, by cutting them in rings and placing them on poles, and hanging them on the joist in front of the fireplace.
    "My father contracted with Ewell Kendall for several bushels of wheat, the first I knew of being raised on White­water. I do not remember the price paid for it. I was sent for it, and recollect George Holman's being present and remarking to Kendall, that he was " a money-making man" This wheat we ground in our hand-mill, and sifted the flour through a meal sieve of horse hair. Out of this flour we had many excellent breakfasts."
    Corn was the principal grain crop of the settlers. The soil was adapted to its production, and the yield was abundant. Yet the farmers found one serious difliculty in its cultivation. Vast injury was done to cornfields by birds and quadrupeds, both by picking up the seed and taking the grain from the ear. Farmers, sometimes, unaware of the secret working of these little depredators, found their planted seed corn nearly all picked up by crows and squirrels. Blackbirds, in large flocks, would light upon the ears before the grain was hard, and in­jure it badly. And in the fall the squirrels and raccoons would diligently carry on the work of devastation. Squirrel hunts were frequent, and prizes awarded to those who killed the greatest number. These hunts were often got up in the spring to protect the planted cornfields. A subscription paper was circulated, and subscriptions were taken payable in corn to be distributed as prizes among the hunters. On the day set for counting the scalps, the men and boys of the neighborhood would attend, eager to learn the result. Some of these hunt­ers, it is presumed, were stimulated no less by the expectation of a ugood time" and the honor of being the best hunter, than by the prizes offered.

Native Pastures; Wood Ranges; Hog Hunts

    The wild grass and other herbage with which the woods abounded, made them for several years good pasture grounds. Horses and cattle were "belled" early in the spring and turned into the woods. Horses were hunted when wanted to work, and cows at milking time. The concert of half a score of bells and the songs of an equal number of the various feathered tribes, furnished no mean entertainment to those whose musical tastes had not been formed by the artistic per­formances of modern trained melodists. Hunting the cows was a part of the daily labor of every family; and it was done by boys if there were in the family any old enough to go without getting lost, or were able to carry the rifle; for it was not safe to go far without this weapon of defense. A boy by the name of Wm. Kaines, whose father had settled a few miles from where Cambridge City now is, was one of these cow-hunters for the family. Starting as usual, just before night, and having gone about half a mile, he heard a noise behind him, and, looking back, saw two wolves on his track. He drew up his rifle and fired, wheeled, and ran home for help. On returning to the place, one of the wolves was found dead with a bullet hole in his head.
    The woods were valuable also for the meat they furnished. While the clearings were yet small and corn was scarce, the forest furnished subsistence for hogs, which would often fatten on beech nuts, hickory nuts, and acorns. But running in the woods, they soon became wild, and when wanted for meat, were not easily taken. Some would escape for years, until their tusks had grown to nearly the length of a man's finger. These old hogs were formidable resistants to their pursuers. In defending the younger ones of the gang when seized by a dog, they have been known to spring at the dog, and rip out his entrails with one flirt of the snout. Men without guns to defend themselves, have been compelled to climb trees to avoid their attacks. Neighbors joined at killing time to hunt their hogs with dogs and guns. Their hope of success depended chiefly upon first shooting the old ones.
    An old settler, [H. C. T.,] says he was one of about a dozen who went on one of these hog-hunting expeditions. Being told that the hogs were young, and that only dogs and knives were needed, all went without guns, except one, a weakly man, who, being unable to run, fortunately, as it proved, took his rifle. After an hour's hunt, the hogs were discovered and overtaken. Being stopped by the dogs, they huddled together with their noses out, ready for a fight. Two were caught by the dogs, and knifed; after which, an old hog, which was among them, would, when the dogs caught a hog, fight them off, until he was shot by the man carrying the rifle. After a chase of about three miles, the last hog was captured.
    The forest was also of no small value as a hunting ground for deer and other game. Deer hunting in the winter was a common business. Much of the meat of deer was sometimes lost. The hunter, if alone and far from home, would shoulder the more valuable part, the hams and the skin, and leave the rest for the wolves, or, as was sometimes done, hung up to a sapling or a large limb of a tree, which had perhaps been bent down for the purpose, and which, springing back, would raise the meat beyond the reach of the wolves. Having delivered his first load at his cabin,he would return, though perhaps not the same day, conducted to the spot by his tracks in the snow, and bring home the remainder. If two hunters were in com­pany, the legs of a deer would be tied to a pole, and the animal carried away, each hunter taking an end of the pole on his shoulder.
    But the principal meat of the early settlers did not long con­sist of game. Pork and poultry were soon raised in abund­ance. The common fowl furnished both meat and eggs, Geese, though sometimes eaten, were raised chiefly for their feathers, with which the settlers replenished their old bed-ticks and filled their new ones. Doubtless, many still repose on beds made by their mothers or grandmothers more than half a century ago.

Wild Animals

    The wild animals inhabiting this region at the time of its settlement, were the deer, wolf, bear, wild cat, fox, otter, porcupine or hedge hog, raccoon, woodchuck or ground hog, skunk, mink, muskrat, opossum, rabbit, weasel, and squirrel. Several of these animals furnished the early settlers with meat, but chiefly the deer. None were much feared except the bear and the wolf. The former was the most dangerous to meet; the latter the more destructive to property. The bear is generally ready to attack & person ; the wolf seldom does so unless impelled by hunger, or in defense. For many years it was difficult to protect sheep from the ravages of the wolves.    They had to be penned every night.    Many were destroyed even in the day time near the house. It is the nature of the wolf to seize a sheep by the throat and suck its blood, and leave the carcase as food for other carnivorous animals; provided the number of sheep was sufficient thus to satisfy the hunger of their destroyer. Pigs and calves also were sometimes victims to these pests of the early settlers. Their howlings in the night would often keep families awake, and set all the dogs in the neighborhood to barking. Their yells were often terrific. Says an old settler: " Suppose six boys having six dogs tied, and whipping them all at the same time, and you would hear such a noise as two wolves would make."
    To effect the destruction of these animals, the county authorities offered bounties for their scalps. The accounts of county expenditures for many years show the payment of wolf bounties. But as wolves hunt in the night, when they can not be shot, they were more frequently caught in traps, which were made in divers ways. One kind was the "dead fall." Another was a small pen made of small logs or heavy poles, about 6 or 7 feet high, and narrowed at the top. Into this pen a bait was thrown. A wolf could easily enter it at the top, but was unable to get out. This is the kind in which Robert Morrisson "trapped" wolves when he lived in the woods above Middleborough. Jeremiah Cox, Jun., or " Young Jerry," as he was then familiarly called, having spoken of an unsuccessful search of raccoon tracks in the woods after a fall of snow, in company with his uncle Mor­risson, and another uncle, John Turner, says : " We returned homeward by way of uncle Morrisson's wolf traps, which were on the Ohio side. In one of these traps was a large black wolf. Uncle Morrisson began to devise ways and means of tying up its mouth and hamstringing its hind legs, and of taking it home to fight with his dogs, for sport. * Blood!' said uncle Turner, 'let us kill the ratched varmint,' At the same instant striking the wolf with the sharp edge of his ax through a crack of the trap, which bled the animal to death in a few minutes, thus putting an end to uncle Morrisson's anticipations of sport. But some time afterward he trapped another, which he succeeded in capturing, and had the sport. But he found the wolf a match for all the dogs that attacked it." The scalps of these two wolves were probably the ones for which he once drew from the county treasury $3.
    Another kind of trap was made of split logs, about 6 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 3 feet high, with a heavy lid sufficiently raised to let the wolf in. Jumping in to get the bait, he would spring the triggers; the lid would fall, and confine him until he could be shot.
    Another was the steel trap, with jaws a foot or more in length. The clamps were notched like a cross-cut saw; and there was a stiff spring each side. Attached to the trap was a chain with hooks, not to fasten it, but to make it difficult for the wolf to drag it. Caught, as he probably would be, by the fore leg while trying to paw out the bait, if the trap were made fast, he would gnaw off his leg and be gone, Ishmael Bunch, an old hunter, who settled early half a mile east of Whitewater, [lately Hillsboro',] had a trap of this kind set a few miles east of the Ohio line at a place called "fallen timber," which was a great resort for wolves. He went with his son " Dick," a youth of seventeen, to see the trap, but it was gone. Following the trail, they overtook the wolf on a side hill on the bank of East Fork. " Now, Dick," said Bunch, " I 'intend to kill that ar wolf with my tomahawk." Dick set down his gun and stood to see the wolf killed. His fore leg was in the trap, his long white teeth shining, and the dogs shying around. The old man aimed a heavy blow at the wolf's head. The wolf dodged, and was not touched. But such was the momentum pro­duced by the stroke, as to whirl the old man round; and he fell near the wolf. Being snapped at by the wolf, he made such an effort to spring away, that he soon found himself on "all fours" over the brow of the hill; and, unable to stop himself, (being a heavy man,) he bounded along to the bot­tom. He soon returned, however, more scared than hurt, and ordered Dick to shoot the wolf. The boy, convulsed with laughter, found the task a difficult one.
    Wolves were sometimes accused of deeds committed by dogs.    The following is a case: Dr. John Thomas, residing where his grandson Henry W. Thomas now lives, in the township of Franklin, was called on one morning by a neighbor who accused his dogs of having killed most of his sheep, and threatened to shoot them in his presence. The doctor, loath to part with his favorite dogs, remonstrated against so hasty redress. But the neighbor, determined to carry his purpose into effect, was about to shoot, when the doctor prevailed on him to hold on till he could ascertain whether or not the dogs had eaten mutton. Having faith in emetics, he administered one on bread to each of the dogs. The effect was a copious discharge of mutton and wool. Wm. Addleman, an old resident of Franklin, confirms the facts above stated, and says he has seen the same effect pro­duced by suspending the dog by his hind legs. After a brief struggle with his head down, the contents of the stomach were discharged.
    Among the native animals of the forest which have long since disappeared, was the porcupine, familiarly called hedge hog. It was nearly as large as a raccoon, had a round head, and was covered all over with quills from an inch to two inches long, and as hard and as sharp as a needle. It was a terror to dogs. Young dogs, not knowing the consequence, would seize the animal, and get its quills stuck into their mouth 8. It could also, with its tail, switch the quills into the sides of a dog or other animal. It is the nature of these quills to work deeper into the flesh, and kill the dogs if not ex­tracted in season, which was usually done with a nippers. A dog once stuck with quills, would not touch the porcupine.

Early Cooking

To witness the various processes of cooking in those days, would alike surprise and amuse those who have grown up since cooking-stoves came into use. The first thing likely to attract notice was the wide fire-place before described, some eight feet in the clear. Kettles were hung over the fire, to a strong pole which was raised so high above the fire as not to be likely to ignite from heat or sparks, the ends being fastened into the sides of the chimney. The kettles were suspended on tram­mels, which were pieces of iron rods, with hooks at bath ends.
    The uppermost one extended from the pole nearly down to the fire; and with one or more short ones the kettles were brought to their proper height above the fire. Before iron was plenty, wooden hooks were sometimes used. Being directly above the kettles, they seldom took fire.
    The long-handled frying-pan was used for cooking meat. It was held on the fire by hand; or, to save time, the handle was sometimes laid across the back of a chair while the cook was " setting the table." The pan was also used for baking short cakes. It was placed in a nearly perpendicular posi­tion before the fire, with coals under or behind it to bake the under side. A more convenient article was a cast-iron, short-handled, three-legged spider, or skillet, which was set upon coals on the hearth. Its legs were so adjusted that when, in baking cakes or biscuit, it was turned up before the fire, it kept its semi-vertical position. Some of these skillets had iron covers, on which coals were thrown to bake the upper side. But the best thing for baking bread was the flat-bottomed bake-kettle, of greater depth, with legs and a closely fitted cast-iron cover, more commonly called Dutch oven. With coals over and under it, bread and biscuit were quickly and nicely baked. Turkeys and spare-ribs were sometimes roasted before the fire, suspended by a string, a dish [being placed underneath to catch the drippings.
    Some of the inconveniences of cooking in open fire-places will be readily imagined. Women's hair was sometimes singed, their hands were blistered, and their dresses scorched. But frame houses, with good fire-places of brick or stone, measur­ably relieved our mothers and grandmothers. In one of the jambs was fastened an iron crane which extended over the fire, and could be drawn forward when kettles were to be put on or taken off. But the invention of cook-stoves commenced a new era in the mode of cooking; and none, the most averse to innovation, have indicated a desire to return to the " old way," which will hereafter be known only in history.

Early Tillage

    Agriculture is a term hardly applicable to the farming of early times. The implements then used would, in this age of improvement, be great curiosities. Specimens on exhibition at our modern fairs would attract unusual attention. The plow used was called bar-share plow. The iron part consisted of a bar of iron about two feet long, and a broad share of iron welded to it. At the extreme point was a coulter that passed through a beam six or seven feet long, to which were attached handles of corresponding length. The mold-board was a wooden one split out of winding timber, or hewed into a winding shape in order to turn the soil over. The whole length of the plow, from the fore end of the beam to the ends of the handles, was eight or ten feet. Newly cleared ground was, with this plow, broken up with great difficulty. From the tough roots bent forward by the plow and springing back, the plowman's legs would receive many a hard blow. Some used on new ground only a shovel-plow, similar in shape and size to that of the present day, but differing in workmanship.
    Sown seed was " bushed in " by a sapling with a bushy top, or by a bundle of brush from a tree top, dragged, butts for­ward. As soon, however, as the ground would admit, the tri­angular harrow, or drag was used. This instrument was made of two pieces of timber, (hewed, before there were mills to saw,) about five inches square, and about six feet long, an end of one framed into one end of the other, forming an acute angle, and kept apart by a shorter piece framed into the others near the center; the instrument in form resembling the letter A. The teeth were of double the weight of those now used, in order to stand the violent collision with the roots and stumps over and among which they were to be drawn. A harrow was sometimes made of a crotched tree, worked down to the proper size. The idea of a cast-iron plow had not yet entered the brain of the inventor, Jethro Wood, of Cayuga county, N. Y. The improvements since made in the plow and the harrow, the invention of cultivators, drills for sowing and planting, and other labor-saving implements, have wonder-
fully changed the aspect of farming, and increased incalculably the power of production.
    In harvesting the change is most striking. Before the decay and removal of the stumps permitted the use of the grain-cradle, the cutting of grain was mostly done with the sickle, not at all used now for its original purpose. It was then a staple article of merchandise. In the old day-books and journals of the early merchants, if they could be found, might be seen the charge, " To 1 Sickle," under the names of scores of customers, followed, in many cases, by that other charge, " To 1 Gal. Whiskey," an article then deemed by some as necessary in harvesting as the instrument itself The cradle, which superseded the sickle, is fast giving way, indeed, has in some parts of the country already given way, to the reaper, an instrument then not more likely to be invented than the photographic art, or the means of hourly communication with the inhabitants on the opposite side of the globe. Single fields of wheat of one hundred to five hundred acres each, are not rare in some of the western states. Let a man imagine an at­tempt to cut these immense fields of grain by handfuls with the sickle, and he can not fail to appreciate the invention of the reaper.
    Grain was threshed with a flail, which, in its rudest form, was made of a hickory sapling about two inches thick, and seven or eight feet long. About two feet and a half from one end it was roasted in the fire, and at this place it was bruised or beaten, so as to cause it to bend. With this, grain was beaten out on the ground, if there was no barn floor. Another way of making a flail was to tie a stick, two or three feet long and two inches thick, to one end of a staff of the size and length of a hoe handle, with a strong cord or leather string. A green hand, with this instrument, seldom failed of getting his head hit with one end of the swingel. There were no fanning-mills to separate the grain from the chaff'. No mill peddler had yet ventured so far west as Whitewater. To " raise the wind," a linen sheet was taken from the bed, and held at the corners by two men; and by a semi-rotary motion or swinging of one side of the sheet, the chaff was driven from the falling grain, the pure wheat lying in a pile ready to be garnered, or placed under the bed for safe-keeping, until there was occasion to take it to mill. The tow-linen sheet was at length superseded by the fanning-mill. A single machine now receives the sheaves, and delivers the cleaned grain at the rate of several hundred bushels a day. A reaper is in use in some of the western states which carries two binders, and drops along its track the cut grain in sheaves, bound.
In hay harvesting, also, improvements would seem to have reached perfection. A lad of sufficient age to drive a team, mows from fifty to one hundred acres of meadow in an ordi­nary haying season; and the hay is all raked during the same time by a single hand.
    An old settler, who has furnished the writer valuable infor­mation on several subjects, thus describes the method of har­vesting and cleaning wheat, supplying some slight omissions in the description already given :
    Wheat was cut by hand with reap-hooks, [sickles,] bound, and put into shocks, and when sufficiently dried, into stacks. Before the farmer had a good barn floor, the wheat was threshed on the ground with a flail, a place having been pre­pared by beating down the clay with a maul. To separate it from the chaff, a riddle, [coarse sieve,] about 30 inches in di­ameter, was made by bending a wooden hoop 5 or 6 inches wide, and for a bottom, weaving splints across through holes made with a gimlet, and fastening them on the outside of the hoop. [Hosea C. Tillson, of Bethel, has yet in his possession a riddle of this kind made more than forty years ago.] A tow sheet was taken to make wind. This was done by two men, each taking an end, and whirling it over quickly. Another man holding up and shaking the riddle full of wheat in the chaff, the wind would blow the chaff from the falling wheat. About ten bushels were thus cleaned in half a day. After barns were built with floors, wheat was tramped out by horses. When the stubs and the small stumps had disap­peared, cradles and fanning-mills came into use.
    Getting grinding done, continues our friend, was for several years attended with difficulty. The settlers in the north­eastern part of the county were dependent upon mills in the vicinity of where Richmond now is.    The mill afterward built by Jeremiah Cox, Jun., six miles north of Richmond, afforded great relief to these northern settlers. But, like other early and cheaply constructed mills, it could not serve them in the dry and very cold seasons of the year. It was enclosed in a log building, and had two runs of stones. Having no elevators, the miller, when the wheat was ground, had to carry the flour in a sack up to the bolting chest. This mill was visited from a great distance by men and boys bringing grain on horseback along the new and winding paths through the woods.
    The settler above alluded to also tells of a hand-mill that was resorted to in dry and cold weather. It was fixed on a square frame about as high as a table. In the upper stone, or runner, was a hole in which was put a staff, the upper end of which passed up through the floor overhead into the loft. Two persons standing opposite each other and taking hold of the staff, would whirl the upper stone round; one of them feed­ing the mill by throwing in the grain by single handfuls. A few mills run by horse power were built. A person wanting grinding done, would hitch his own horses to the mill. The people of that section were at length relieved by the erection of a steam grist-mill at Newport Falls in 1833. A small mill had been built on Middle Fork, east of Bethel, in 1829, which did much grinding when water was plenty.
    While by the invention of the cultivator and other labor-saving implements, the power and facility of producing corn has been greatly increased, in the harvesting there has been comparatively little improvement. To this operation the em­ployment of machinery would seem to be impracticable. Dif­ferent modes have been practiced here. In the fall, while yet in a greenish state, the blades were stripped from the stalks, bound in bundles, and housed or stacked for cattle and sheep in winter. Sometimes the stalks with the leaves on were topped, that is, cut off just above the lower end of the ear; and these tops also were saved for fodder. When the corn was sufficiently dry, the ears were pulled from the stalks, and hauled into the log barn, or to the side of a rail pen; the rails having been notched down to make it tight enough to hold the ears when husked. The cattle were then turned into the field to feed on the stalks in the winter.
    The husking was performed by that ancient, now obsolete, institution called corn-husking, in which the neighbors, old and young, were invited to participate. The anticipation of a " good time " secured a general attendance. A good supper, which several of the " neighbor women " had assisted in pre­paring, was usually served at eight or nine o'clock. The " old folks " would then leave, and in due time the boys would gal­lant the girls to their homes. The recreation afforded to the young people on the annual recurrence of these festive occa­sions, was as highly enjoyed and quite as innocent as most of the amusements of the present boasted age of refinement.

Home Manufactures

    After a brief residence at their new homes, the settlers found themselves in need of new clothing, which some of them were unable to purchase. Even the few who had money, could not supply themselves without great difficulty. The inhabitants of Whitewater were yet shut out from the commercial world. The nearest market town was Cincinnati; and the only mode of transportation was by wagons over roads almost impassable most of the year. The settlers were obliged to supply them­selves chiefly by their own hands. Farmers, even in the older states, manufactured their own cloth, both for summer and winter wear.
    Flax was at first raised chiefly for the lint, for the reason, probably, that the seed would not pay for its transportation to market. When the seed was about ripe, the flax was pulled up by the roots, and spread on the ground to rot The rotting is done by the rains and the dew. It does not impair the strength of the lint; it only makes the straw brittle, that it may be easily separated from the lint. In preparing, it for spinning, it passes through the several processes of breaking, scutching, or swingling, and hackling, or hatcheling. The part combed out by this last process, is called tow. It was made into a coarser fabric, for men's shirts and trowsers for common wear. The warp of this tow cloth was often—perhaps gen­erally—spun from the fine flax, the filling alone being spun from the tow.    The fine linen was more generally worn by women, but was sometimes made into men's undergarments for Sunday wear.
The spinning exercise is one which few of the present generation of our girls have ever enjoyed. The wheel used for spinning flax was called the "little wheel" to distinguish it from the "big wheel" used for spinning wool. These "stringed instruments" furnished the principal music of the family, and were operated by our mothers and grandmothers with great skill, attained without expense, and by far less practice, than is necessary for our modern dames to acquire a skillful use of their elegant and costly instruments. They were indispensable household articles in those days; and, fortunately, a maker of them was among the early settlers. This wheelwright, in the person of Daniel Trimble, was regarded as a common benefactor to the inhabitants for many miles round. He was a son-in-law of John Smith. A few years later came Wm. Williams, a man of the same craft, and equally useful, perhaps more so; for, being an esteemed preacher of the society of Friends, after six days' labor in supplying their temporal wants, he ministered the next day to their spiritual needs.
    The loom was not less necessary than the wheel. Not every house, however, in which spinning was done, had a loom. But there were always some who, besides doing their own weaving, did some also for those who could not do it for themselves.
    Woolen cloth also was a household manufacture. Settlers having succeeded in raising some sheep despite the devouring wolves, they commenced making cloth. The shearing of sheep was attended with trouble and delay, as that indispen­sable article, sheep-shears, was not owned by every farmer. One sometimes performed the circuit of a neighborhood. There being at first no carding machines, wool was carded and made into short rolls with hand-cards. These rolls were spun on the "big wheel," which may still be seen in the houses of some of the old settlers, being occasionally used for spinning and twisting stocking yarn. It was turned with the hand, and with such velocity as to give it sufficient momentum to enable the nimble mother, by her backward step, to draw out and twist her thread of nearly the length of the cabin. Woolen cloth was woven on the loom used for weaving linen. A common article made was linsey, also called linsey-woolsey, of which the warp or chain was linen, and the filling woolen.
    Several years elapsed before fulled cloth was made, there being no fulling mills and cloth-dressing establishments. Flannel, all wool, was also made, and worn by the mothers and daughters. Flannel for women's wear, after dye-stuffs were to be had, was dyed such color as the.wearers fancied. It was sometimes a plaid made of yarn of various colors, home-dyed. To improve their appearance, these flannels were sent to a cloth-dressing mill for a slight dressing, which was finished by a powerful pressing between large sheets of smooth pasteboard, to give it a glossy surface.
    Long after the country had passed its pioneer state, the farmers' houses continued to be miniature linen and woolen factories, in which the labor was chiefly performed by the wife and mother until the daughters were able to assist. Where there was more spinning to be done than the wife could do in addition to her housework, and where the daughters were too young to help, spinsters were employed to come into families to spin flax and tow in the winter, and wool in the summer. These itinerant spinsters received a "York shilling" [12 1/2 cents] a day—the day's work ending at early bed-time. Some will be surprised when told that many of these women had money to show at the year's end. It was to some extent a custom to count a certain number of "cuts" of yarn as a day's work. This had a tendency to accelerate the motion of the wheel, and lessen the hours of labor. These small earnings would not go far toward clothing Whitewater farmers' daughters of the present generation. Then young women were dressed in cloth of their own manufacture, except the calico for the summer Sunday dress, six yards being a full pattern for a woman of ordinary size.
    The linen made in families was not all worn in its brown or natural color. That which was intended for certain uses was bleached.   It was spread on the grass, wet by sprinkling
several times a day, and dried in sunshine.  By this alternate wetting and drying, it was soon bleached to a perfect white.
    Much dyeing, too, as has been already intimated, was done in the family. Dye-woods and dye-stuffs formed no small portion of a country merchant's stock. Barrels of chipped Nicaragua, log-wood, and other woods, and kegs of madder, alum, copperas, vitriol, indigo, etc., constituted a large part of teamsters' loading for the merchants. Many, doubtless, remember the old dye-tub standing in the chimney corner, covered with a board, and used as a seat for children when chairs were wanted for visitors, or when new supplies of furniture failed to keep pace with the increase of the family. Mr. Goodrich, [Peter Parley,] describing early life in his native town in Connecticut, speaks of this " institution of the dye-tub," as having, "when the night had waned, and the family had retired, frequently become the anxious seat of the lover, who was permitted to carry on his courtship, the object of his addresses sitting demurely in the opposite corner." We have no authority for saying that it was ever used here on such occasions.
    Nearly all the cloth worn was " home-made." Rarely was a farmer or his son seen in a coat made of any other. If, occasionally, a young man appeared in a suit of "boughten" cloth, he was an object of envy to his rustic associates; or he was suspected of having got it for a particular occasion which occurs in the life of nearly every man. Few, except merchants, lawyers, doctors, and some village mechanics, wore cloth that had not passed through the hands of the country cloth-dresser. Hence merchants kept very small stocks of broadcloth. Cloths of the finer qualities they sometimes bought in small pieces, containing a certain number of patterns, one, two, or three, to avoid loss on remnants.
    There were also tailoresses who came into families to make up men's and boys' winter clothing. The cutting was mostly done by the village tailor, if there was a village near. " Bad fits," which were not uncommon, were generally charged to the cutter. Hence the custom of tailors, when inserting in their advertisements, "Cutting done on short notice, and warranted to fit," to append the very prudent proviso, " if properly made up." These seamstresses charged twenty-five cents a day for their work. This was thought by some em­ployers rather exorbitant, as the common price of help at housework was but one-half as much.
    The need of leather soon became pressing. The shoes brought in by the settlers were worn out. Large boys and girls had to go barefoot the greater part of the year, even to meeting. Tanneries of limited capacity were established. Some, having waited impatiently for the tanners to turn out leather, set up for themselves, and tanned the hides of their slaughtered cattle in a trough. Others substituted for shoes the cheaper article of moccasins, similar to those worn by the Indians. Skins of various kinds of animals were tanned for this purpose. Moccasins were sometimes sewed with leather thongs. An early settler yet living says, that in the days of his boyhood he tanned squirrel skins in a sugar trough, and made moccasins for himself; and he thought himself a little above his companions when he wore them to Whitewater meeting. Shoes for both feet were made on one last. " Rights and lefts" were unknown in those days. Boots were little worn by men, except in the winter season.
    We have spoken of houses as linen and woolen factories. Some were also shoe-shops. In some parts of the country there was, in almost every neighborhood, a circulating shoe­maker, who made his annual autumnal circuit with his " kit." The children had a happy time during his sojourn, which lasted one, two, or more weeks, according to the number of feet to be shod. This custom, it is believed, never prevailed so generally here as in some other places. Many made shoes for themselves and their families. Men's boots and shoes were usually made of coarse leather, commonly called cow­hide. Occasionally a young man attained the enviable dis­tinction of appearing in a pair of calf-skin boots made by a regular workman. In this department of dress, as in others, in respect to style and expense, the past and the present ex­hibit a remarkable contrast.
    We only add, a marked and general revolution in house­hold labor has been effected since the days of our mothers and grandmothers. The substitution of cotton for flax, and of the various kinds of labor-saving machinery for hand-cards and family spinning-wheels and looms, has vastly lightened the labor of women. One of the results of these improvements is the opportunity they afford for mental and intellectual culture. That the mass of American women duly improve these opportunities will hardly be affirmed.
    In confirmation of what has been said in relation to the des­titution of early settlers, and of the difficulty of obtaining com­fortable clothing, an old settler in a northern township of this county writes: " I remember when I got the first pair of boots I ever had. I got them to travel in when I went abroad to preach. I was called proud because I had boots. Women also who wore checked cotton dresses every day, were called proud. We then had no idea how people would dress as soon as they were able. On account of the difficulty of protecting sheep from the wolves, few were kept; and many families were un­able to supply themselves with woolen clothes. For men's and boys' winter clothing, recourse was had to tanned and dressed deer-skins. When grown stiff by getting wet, they were limbered by whipping them on a log or a post. Some wore coats made of undressed skins."
    From another northern township an old settler writes: "I have frequently seen families go to meeting barefoot. I have' often heard it said of a preacher on the circuit when this was a wilderness, that the people went to hear their  new preachers on a week day. Being neatly dressed, and wearing a pair of fine boots, they thought him too much of a fop to preach. After he had closed his sermon, a laboring man who had left his field and come to meeting barefoot, got up and gave a warm and stirring exhortation, under the effects of which a good old brother shouted, 'Lord! send us more barefooted preachers.'"
    It is presumed this anecdote, kindly furnished by our friend, was intended simply as an illustration of the destitute con­dition and some of the characteristics of the early settlers and not at all as justifying the vulgar prejudices indulged by some in those days against persons better dressed than them­selves.   Happily the days have gone by when "good clothes"
are regarded by any as a badge of dishonor, or as evidence of one's unfitness for any position or calling. Many a poor, per­haps shoeless pioneer has, by hard labor and proper economy, become a "lord of the soil," and, if yet living, is himself one of that class upon whom he once looked with envy or distrust.

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