See other formats

Full text of ""Lest we forget" : reminiscences of the pioneers of Grant County, Indiana"

Gc 977.201 G76L 
"Lest we forqet' 



-t1 UJicJ Ih^ - 




u 



ii 



LEST WE FORGET^^ 



REMINISCENCES 

CF 

THEPIONEERS 

o? 

GRANT COUNTY, INDIANA 



COLLECTED 

BY 

HISTORY DEPARTMENT 

OF 

MARION HIGH SCHOOL 
UNDER THE DIRECTION 

OF 

CORA M. STRAUGHAN 



PRINTED 

BY 

PRINTING DEPARTMENT 
MARION HIGH SCHOOL 
UNDER THE DIRECTION 

OF 

B. H. PENROD 



1440863 




To the Pioneers of Grant County 

Who, 

By their unceasing toil, 

And heroic self-sacrifice 

Have made possible the glorious Pressnt, 

This little Booklet is affectionately dedicate d 



PREFACE 

In making this collection of stories of pioneer days in Grant Countv 
the compilers desire to preserve for this, and future generations .the rich 
store of material that is swiftly becoming inaccessible. With the passing 
away of this generation of pioneers the last of those early settlers who 
blazed the forest trails and laid the foudation for our present prosperity 
will have departed forever. The crude cabin has given way to the com- 
fortable, modern home; the primitive forest has fallen to give place to 
cultivated fields and smiling meadows; the plodding ox-team has been dis- 
placed by the swift automobile. And we would not choose to have it other- 
wise. The world grows apace; yesterday may not become today; tomorrow 
will be rich in advancement. 

The pioneer days in Grant County are gone forever, but we do not 
want them forgotten. The fearless men and heroic women who battled 
with the wilderness; who made self-sacrifice a joy; who toiled unceir'ingly 
that the virgin earth might yield her treasures, have handed down to us 
of the present too rich a legacy to receive no measure of devotion, no 
tribute of appreciation in return. 

So the History Department of the Marion High School has attempted 
to save a few stories of these early days in Grant County. We do not claim 
that all contained in our little booklet is authentic. Old age forgets, and 
legend is not always truth, but the philosophy of these older people has 
been as a sort of benediction, and a joy has been ours as we followed them 
into the recesses of memory as they lifted the veil of the past; yea, mcr? 
than that, we of the now have seen in their dear old faces the Light that 
fades not, the dawn of a Beyond that they are nearing. 

We have realized the delicate nature of the undertaking. There are 
so many older persons whom we have not been privileged to m.est whose 
wealth of information would have enriched our source material; we could 
not get to all parts of the County, but have endeavored to reach represen- 
tative localities. 

We feel especially indebted to Supt. A. E. Highley and the Beard of 
Education for encouragement and support in this undertaking; to Mr. B. 
H. Penrod and the Printing department for courtesy shown in the publi- 
cation; to parents who have aided the work of compilation; to friends who 
haverendered assistance in every way possible, and especially to pupils who 
have labored "over hours" that this little Booklet may be a success. 
MARION HIGH SCHOOL, HISTORY DEPARTMENT. 

Marion, Indiana. 1921. Cora M. Straughan, Teacher, 



HOPE 
By Cora M. Straughan. 

It is not night though the sun has set; 
On the western hills the light shines yet, 
And even though the twilight fall 
The evening star keeps watch for all. 

It is not night though age has brought 
The silvered head and the sobered thought, 
And even should the Unknown call 
The light of Love illumines all. 

There is no Death, there is no Night, 
We pass Beyond into the Light; 
The aged face with its sun-kissed Smile 
Is harbinger of the Afterwhile. 



r 



^GABRILLA HAVENS (101 YEARS OLD) 

"I was born in Bradford County, Pennsylvania, February 25, 1820. 
In 1837 my father, mother and their nine children came to Ohio where we 
remained long enough to raise a crop (or about a year) then we came on 
to Grant County, Indiana. Father did not like the country and did not 
want to stay but we children started to clearing the land and so we re- 
mained. 

"When I grew older I taught four terms of school, receiving two 
dollars per week. By and by a man came along who had a farm and he 
persuaded me to come and live with him. I would have been happier if I 
had not gone with him. Girls, never marry; just stay in Marion and teach 
until you are gray-headed; Lord, you ought to be happy! 

"I was twenty-two years old when I married. I have done a lot of 
I'.ard work. My husband and I cleared twenty acres of land. He would 
get discouraged with the farm work, then I would go out into the fields 
and help him. We had eight children, so I had to work hard. 

"My husband died June 30, 1863, and I was left with the care of the 
children, the youngest one being but three years of age; but we managed 
to get along. I would go out into the fields and work like a man. I raised 
those children with my own two hands. 

"I had many chances to re-marry but I did not want a man. I never 
ran after the men; if I had, I'd a got one. One day I was out in the 
orchard with my children when a neighbor man came and asked me to 
marry him. 'I guess not,' I said, and turning to my children — *I will not 
leave them for any man.' 

"What church do I belong to? I was a Methodist all my life until 
1879 when I became an Adventist. Oh, I believe in it. 

"You ask if my father had slaves? No-o-o-o, I guess not. Why, I 
would have burned my shirt to make a light for a run-away slave. My 
uncle sheltered Fred Douglas for four days in an 'underground station,' 
■f>-at being his cellar. He hid behind potato barrels, and they covered him 
with comforts to hide him from the slave owner. 

"My great grandfather was in the Revolutionary War. My grand- 
father was seven years old when his father was called to war. The mother 
?oon died and left grandfather with the care of four little sisters, two of 
them being twins but six 'weeks old. Some neighbors took the little girls 
and grandfather was sent down the river seventy miles with a flock of 
sheep. He took a saddle horse and food enough to do him a week. He was 
only seven years old and got lost in the woods. At night he tied himself 
to his horse so he could sleep and not lose it. For three weeks he wandered 
about and when his food was gone he ate with the horse — roots, grass, etc. 
At last he came to a 'clearing' and begged food. They took him in. but he 
never got back to his family for seventeen years. 

"Yes, those were heart-rending times. 

"Oh, must you go? I wish you could stay longer. Well, girls, remem- 
ber what I said — DON'T marry, and may the dear Lord bless you. Tell 
your friends that an old woman one hundred and one years old blessed 
you. Good-bye." 

This dear aged old lady was interviewed by Mi«s Gladys Cole (Senior. 
1921) and Miss Straughan. She was sitting ouietly in her old chair when 
they entered her room, apparently asleep, but when told there were two 
ladies who wished to talk with her she was instantly alert and delighted to 
talk with them about her "early d?ys." 

It was an inspiration to see the "light that fades not" in her counte- 
nance and feel the benediction of her last words. 

"Of such is the Kingdom." 



MARY WILLIAMS— LEAR 

Mrs. Lear has reached the advanced age of ninety-five years, having 
been born Janvary 27, 1827, in Fayette County, Indiana. 

Mrs. Lear has been a widow for forty-seven years. "Yes. I am ninety- 
five years old and have had a hard, hard life." she said. "I lived in a little 
old log houFe with a fire-place so big th?t it took a man to carry in tho 
back log. I often cut these back logs, then Old Rhoda, the mare, would 
haul them up to the house. 

"I cooked over this fire-place. I had a number of 'hands' to cook for. 



/ wh^i 



I would also do big washings for people and get twenty cents for my 
day's work. 

"I was tl-.e mother of eleven children. Eow I did the work for them 
T do not know for there was no help in those days. Oh, what would people 
think of such a life now! We had nothing to drink but spice bush or 
ca^p tea. 

"One time I gathered an apron full of chips for the fire-place and 
wh^n I went to empty them a big snake crawled out upon the hearth. 
/ . People had to be brave in those days. 
L-^ "I can well remember Andrew Jackscn and all the presidents that 
y^ame after him. My father was in the war of 1812 and had some dreadful 
( experiences. One t;me his company had to cross Niagara river. Only him- 
\ ze.f and two others made it alive. My grandfather was in the Revolution- 
I ary war. He saw the smoke of many burning homes. One time while out 
I on t'e march he came across a woman that had been scalped by an Indian. 
': She w,:,s lying in a pool of blood. He carried her across the river and 
' bound up her head as best he could. Soldiers see such awful sights and war 
' is a dreadful thing. I have heard them tell dreadful tales of battle." 

This dear old lady was lyirg in bed at her daughter's home, just east 
'-t5'i Hpckleman. She seemed to be suffering intensely but was very anxious 
to tell about the old days. 

^•- . "when I look back over my life I think how good God is to keep me. 

I can't rest for pain but I am going to a Land where pain is no more. I'm 
not afraid to meet my God for I have tried to be good to His children. I 
have never seen a need that I have not tried to supply. All my neighbors 
cshe 1 upon me when there was sicknes". 'Iri-as-much as ye have done it 
unt„ tie least of one of these' is my i rcm'se." 

Ilipre were fifteen in her fathei's fsmily, only three of whom are 
iving — herself and two brothers, age eighty-nine and eighty respectively. 
What 1 testimony from one near'y a centiry old! 



_. THE GKCST THAT WENT TOWN INTO THE GROUND 

One day durirg the winter of 1890 a farmer living north of Marion 
butchered some hogs and among them was ore that wasn't fit for meat. 
This gave some of the boys an idea.t cpky a johe on a group of farmers 
who held meetings at No. 4 school hou&e in Washington Township. The 
fFrn:er3 who held these meetings beloriged to an organization called "The 
Farmers' Alliance" and would never allrw any of the boys to attend their 
secret meetings, much to the disgust of the beys. 

A group of boys, about seventeen or eighteen .years of age, decided 
to tshe the dead hog and try to scaie the farrr.e"s at their meeting that 
n'ght after thg butchering, so, after taking all the hair off of the body they 
lei't it outric'e to freeze. They then too-- som.e red paint and painted the 
head, and this, together with wide-open mouth presented a ghastly appear- 
ance. They also took some of the hair and stuck it on the shoulders so 
that the hog would re<^emble a lion. 

V hat evening, a short time after dark, t'Ms group of mischevious boys 
EtHrtp'l across the fields toward the "chool house, carrying the frozen body 
of t' e hoe-. There was no snow on the ground and everything was frozen 
solid so there was no danger of leaving any tracks by which they might 
later he disroveied. In order to m.ahe a safe escape doubly sure they 
sent onp of th?ir party around the ro-'d with a horse and buggy, that would 
he waiting for them after their joke had been completed. 

Arriving at the yard of the schorl horse they carefully looked around 
t-^ mrke sure they had not been sren. t'^en thpy cautiously mounted the 
ste'^s of the porch. As soon as they were on the norch the frosty boards 
beran to creak as if in warning to thore inside, who were busily engaged 
in conversation. The boys gained the do-^r in safety and carefully placed 
the stiffly frozen body against the door, standing it up on its hind feet and 
with its front feet and head against the doer. All of the boys but one 
ouickly retreated to the waiting bu-sry a'-'d the other, after giving a auick, 
loud i-nock, joined his companions and they were safely out of reach be- 
fore the door'was opened. 

The farmers, when disturbed by the loud knock, fir-^t hesitated, then 
one of them advanced to the door and swung it open. With the opening 
of the door the frozen hog fell head foremost into the group of astonished 



farmers, almost f?Ming sgain; t tl e man who oper.ed the door. All the 
farmers gasped in surprise when they saw this unusual object plunge into 
their miust unmv.ted, ana a number of them felt rather we^ak and nervous, 
for the painted, frozen body certainly presented a ghost-like spectacle when 
coming so suddenly out of the darkness into the rather dimly-lighted room. 

Alter a few moments, in which the farmers partially recovered their 
composure, the pre ident appointed a committee of three to bring the body 
up to the desk where all of them inspected it. He then offered to give one 
of the n^en fi;ty ce. ts to bury the body, so it was taken out i^-.to tl^e woods 
anJ buried. They never found out who the guilty parties were and a small 
group Oi beys certt inly had a good lavgh over the joke they played upon 
t: is group of farmers. 

This affair is regarded Ijy mary as a real ghost story and a large num- 
ber of people who rever saw t?e hog believed it w?s a ghost from what 
thry heard and from whgt t'ley r'^ad in t'e Doners. In one in;-tance a cer- 
tain party said he could trac^: t^ e "ghort" up to the school house by drops 
nf blood rnd from tl ere it could le traced out into the woods, where it 
"'went down into the ground."- — Lauretta Oatess. 



V/^V^'A'" AND NA^ICY MAINE (PO'"T !^>APEL) 

Mr. Maire wrs born in St. Joseph County, F br^ary 23, 1841. His 
parents moved to Howard County when he was about ten years old. 

When he w£s a little fellow he was afflicted with "white swelling,'' 
■which made him a cripple for life. His father started to ta''-e him to Niles, 
M chigan, to see a spe 'ialift, wlen he wfs six years old. '"'"'h^y went in a 
big w:^grn and when tley carre to the river brid"-e his faf-'er thought 1'". 
v.rrr.R e to crss w l^ the horses and wagon, for t' " brV'-e v,'?s not a goo'l 
one. so he left litt'e William in the wagon to watch t" e h-^r-^s and he want 
on for the doctor. Soon \7illiam heard a peculiar no'.=:° and loo^-ing un t'^'^ 
Tiver he saw a grert o'-^ject moving down toward t'"^ br'dge. When it got 
r.f^arly to tl'e bridge, tie bridge moved slowly back and let H na?s. th^n 
r,'- rng hark i to place. It was a steamboat and a movable bridge, but to 
his child'sh m'nd it vrs the miracu'ous. 

In IS''! f-ey stp/t-d to move to Howard Courty in big wagons. They 
made sevrn mihs the firj:t d-^y. Some difference between that r.-^te a-id 
modern ve'i^lfs! In four or five d?)ys they arrived -^t 'i- — -^i-'- ^---^e. His 
a-i-t had a good supper, among other things TOMATO PRESERVES, which 
he had ne-er e^t- n before. Tomatoes then grew wi"d a~ w^-^ds d-^ now. 

When they arrived at their new home the fir.'^t thing they did was to 
c''e^r a space lu-ge enou^ih to build their cabin, thrn get t^'-e log? ready for 
this one-room horse with its hig fireplace of stone? and its doors and win- 
fi^w cor^i'^tirg of quilts. The first night after t" ey moved in it snowed, 
tut they used the "quilt" door and window mo?t of the winter. 

• " had V ry little chance to gi to school, hut t' ere was a "Geoerranhy 
.-■'-o.-l" ft -^i 't'to which his ^athtt took him on hore' icl-:. Old an'' yo^ng 
•.t'e-^re-^ th's "geo.e reply school to see the maps and larn wViere the dif- 
feie'-'t t^v-rs were located. 

He revrr s'w many Indians; can rememb<^r wh^n he w?<j a little fel- 
low s'^elng f-em. going through the woods and knew bv their walk they 
were net w" i+e m^n. 

From Howard County he came to Point Isabel where he has lived 
many ye::r'. 

When a-ked if li^'e was worth while this dar old m-^n of eighty 
s-^i'e' swretly and s-id, "Yes. it has been good," alth ugh he has been a 
cripple and has worked very hard to get alrnc. 

Mrs. Ni?vy Hood-Maines was born in Rush Co-nty. Ind'?na. Mav 20. 
184?. Whon she wa'-- five years old they moved to Liberty towns'- in. Grant 
'''ounty. They settled on a farm of 100 acres, only one and a half acres 
heing cleared. Their home was a one-room cabin with a "ground-floor" 
p;.rch. 

The first n'lilt after t^e'v arrival the dogs wn-e driven under the 
h 'use ly wolve=', which frightened the children very much for they were 
lu-t ' ?e'' t'" wolves. 

She did not get to go to school very much on account of weak eyes. Tre 
sames they pl^.y-'d at school were ball and "black-man' and the girls would 



jump the rope, or r: t'er a grapevine. 

In nice v.e.titr s. e he'iced pick brush to burn so the land would 
be ready to cultivate. Corn was planted by hand and covered with a hoe. 

When a ctmpa gn year came around all the young folks would deco- 
rate a "floit" or big wagon, with bunting and drive for miles to the rallies. 

When she was ten years old they moved to Grean Township, where she 
yet lives at P)'nt Isabel. 

These worthy old people work hard at carpet weaving. It is a pitiful 
siglt to see ti.em for Mr. Mains is badly crippled and she almost blind, 
but they are hsppy and contented. To such there will come "that perfect 
re:>t" which the Lord giveth to his faithful ones. 

* 

HISTORY OF GRANT COUNTY 

The following is the story told by Mr. and Mrs. Frank Druckemiller, 
born February 20, 184i), and October 22, 1852, respectively: 

In pioneer days the church services were nearly always held in school 
houses. In cmducting Sunday school some one would read a chapter 
from the Bible and explain it. The preacher or "circuit rider" only preached 
about every two weeks. He would travel from one place to another on 
hoi'sefcacl'. On the Sunday when he wasn't there, t'ere would be prayer 
meeting alter Surday school. In the church the men, women, boys and 
girls sat in separate groups. Services were held only in the summer be- 
cause the rnpds were so bad in winter. 

The early school houses were built of logs. The windows were holes 
cut in the lo..'S, and greased paper served as t>'e window pane. There was 
a laige box in the rear of the school room which had a slanting lid on it 
and served as a writing desk. The larger pupils were permitted to use this 
'-iurine- the day when they had writing to do. Be ""ore they left of an even- 
ing all the pupils would put their books in' this box to keep the rats and 
mice from them. 

The pupils sat on backless benches made of solit logs, and there were 
no desks at all. They used to get very tired sitting on these benches all 
day long. 

The teacher was almost always a farmer also, teaching alone would 
not make a living. School only lasted three months and the wages were 
very small. The teacher would carry his broom from home to sweep the 
school horse. His wi e would use it before he started to school and then 
do without it until the returned at night. The teacher had the larger boys 
to cut wood at the noon hour. 

The pioneer homes were built of logs, and were heated by a fireplace 
over which all the cooking was done. 

Parents were somewhat strict. When they told children to do any- 
thing it was done without a second telling. 

The roads were mostly corduroy. Men would cover the logs with 
dirt so they would not be so rought riding over them, but they were very 
rough even with the covering. 

The Roseburg pike, just south of Roseburg, near Pipe Creek, would 
often flow over. The water would wash the logs loose and it would be 
dangerous to drive over it. People would travel at the side of the road 
in order to avoid traveling on the logs. The water and mud would 
come up to the horse's side. The only way one had of traveling was by go- 
ing in a big wagon, on horseback, or walking. In walking to church or 
school one o-^ten went across the fields so it would not be so far. 

The clothing worn by people was very plain. It was mostly home- 
spun. The trousers were all home-spun and made of different kinds of 
materials, either linen, cotton or wool, according to the weather at the 
time of wearing. The best suits that were homespun were "four-leaf" jeans. 
One could make "two or three" leaf jeans if he wanted to. The suits were 
mostly two or three leaf jeans. The dresses were mostly home-spun and 
made very plain with plain waists and gathered shirts. They were opened 
down the back. A linen dress was considered very fine, for it lasted a long 
time and new dresses were hard to get. 

There were not many amusements. There was hunting and apple-butter 
making and in the fall folks would collect and play games and have 
It good time. They would take turns in stirring the apple butter. When 



they hunted the game consisted of deer, bears, 'opp^ssums, foxes, coons, 
porcupines, rabbits and squirrels.. 

Ihey did not eiribalm when a person died. The friends or neighbors 
would take a stick and measure the dead person, then take the measure- 
n:ent to a man that made caskets. At the grave the casket was lowered 
into tie grave with the lines from the horses harness. They would pile the 
dirt on the grave about a foot and a half high and make it into the form 
of a body. 

People raised corn, oats, wheat, a little rye and m-'ch buc'-w^eat. The 
wheat and ofts were cut at first with a sickle in swaths, and then some 
one would follow and bind it into sheaves. Late:' the cradle was used and 
s.i. years passed on better harvesters came into use. The wheat, oats and 
corn viere stored in the barn, then in the winters t' e neighbors would 
gather and shuck the corn and thresh the oats and wheat. Cne way of 
thre:hing was to pile it on the barn floor and lead a hor?e over it until the 
train was scattered out. Another way was flailing, which was done by 
piling the grain and besting it out with a flail. The flail was a stic'- about 
five or six feet long, having holes bored in one end, and another stick about 
half as long strapped or tied to this one. A person using the flail had to be 
careful th?t tl e end d d not come back and hit him. After the grain was 
heat out it was pici ed up, chaflF and all, as you could mt separate it. and 
then went to a wind mill where it was cleaned. Later threshing machines 
came into use; net these run by steam engines, as t' ey are now, but by 
horses going 'round and 'round. These were f ollowe 1 by better machines. 

There were no railroads in Marion in those davs so all the grain had 
t-) he hauled to Wabash. It took two days to make t' e trip — one day to go, 
and one day to return. ^ 

"\> hen I (Mrs. Drulemiller) was about five or six years old. an oH 
Indian lived ah cut a cvarter of a mile back of us. We all called him 
'Ininn Jim.' He used to come over to our house of^^en and h^" has held me 
on his lap many times. Once I got sick and he told my parents what to do. 
His medicine was found in the woods. I kept getting worse and he got 
alarmed and said thst he expected my parents should call a doctor. 

" Injun Jim' was very fond of hunting. Fe had a pet deer that he 
caught when it was Tttle. It ran in the field with the cows and when they 
would come to the barn in the evening for milking the deer came with them. 
He killed many deer in the woods but he was very careful that no one 
1 iiled his pet. 

"I remember of the Indian squaws coming to our house once in a while 
but they never stayed very long. The papponse wa- t'ed to a board which 
stood outside the door while the squaws were inside the house. 

"A neighbor of ours used to come to our ho'^s-^ once in a while in the 
evening. Fe was an old man and always deliphted in tilling stories. I 
don't remember any of the stories but they were always about ghosts, goi)- 
biins and witches. We children always hated to s-^e him come because we 
V ere always afraid to go to bed after he left. When we went to bed we 
imagined we saw all kinds of thines. 

— Compiled by Geneva Druckemiller, 1920. 

* 

ABSILLAR EVANS WHITE, 82 YEARS OLD. (Colored, living on 38th St.) 

Absillar Evans was born betw* en Sm.ithfield and Roleigh, North Caro- 
ina, March ICth, 82 years ago, although she is not exactly sure of her age. 

"That is what the insurance people told me," she said. She had two 
brothers and six sisters. 

Her parents were not slaves, for her mof^'er's mother w^s white; her 
father was an Indian, and his motler was a gypsy, so she hardly knows 
what race she belongs to. 

However, her people were treated no better than slaves. The whites 
would not let tbem come about their homes. 

When a tiny child she remembers playing with a "pine-bough baby," 
which was nothing more than the bough of a pine tree dressed up for a 
dolly. But tbe pickaninnies had little time for play for they were keT>t 
_at work from daylight until dark — always something to do. She worked 
in the cotton fields and the rice swamps. She would "drap" corn, plow 
corn and \ick corn in the planter's fields; all day long she worked until 



she could scarce'y walk when night came. 

^he s: id she hi-ci aiLO worked in indigo. This was put into a "barl" 
(Larrel) and soahea, then churned with a hoe when it would curdle like, 
butter. Then this "muu" would settle and the water was then "dreaned" 
ofr. 'ihe contents w£.s put into a leg, Ije was mixed with it and it was 
us3d ior coloring goous. "A collor that never faded," she said. 

•■;^:_riietime& \\ e n.ggars had plenty to eat and sometimes we didn't- 
Vv'e liveJ on corn meal, rice, fat pork and berries. We drank water out of 
V gjurJ and milk out of a "cymblin" (or small gourd). We had pewter 
p.<..tei, dishes and spoons, which we had melted into shape. Our knives and 
fori s were made out of fish poles. We used wooden combs and home-spun 
cl' thes. A woman's dress was made with one straight piece of cloth with 
a araw string at the waist and necl;. We wore a rag over the head, or went 
bare-heacied." 

yhe never had a shoe on her foot until she came to Indiana when she 
was thirteen years old. 

The "white trash" and "niggers" would start to church bare-footed but 
when they got nearly there, to the "meeting' " house, they sat down on a 
"toot-log," brushed their feet with a cloth and put on their shoes. They 
did this so t ey would not wear out their shoes. 

But t>e "tr.stccrats" would go to church in a carriage that would 
dazz'e the eye?. The "niggers" would sit behind on a "waiting board." The 
crrriage had curtains that protected the "fine folks" from sun or rain. 
The "nigger" boys went along to hitch the "bosses," while the "agls" went 
to "hist" the "umberels." 

Ihe slaves ate breakfast at ten o'clock and dinner at five. The over- 
seer would blow a horn (the "mess call") and the colored folks would hur- 
riedly collect about a trough into which their food was poured as if for 
hogs. 

One of the slave owners near her mother's home owned five hundred 
slaves. 

"I never saw a white man good to his slaves," she said. 
Another master whipped a stout young slave, Boston Avery, until his 
clothes stuck to the clotted blood on his back. Then he sold him to a 
Southerner, a planter, but he died from "nose bleed" caused by the flogging. 
She remembers the "Patteroles" who would ride about after night- 
fall and every black person they found without a "pass" from his master 
they would whip. 

The "Speculators" would also collect negroes and seH them, like a 
drove of hogs. They would be separated from their families whom they 
would never see again. 

When a slave died he was buried in the lonely woods after night, with 
nothing to light up the dismal scene except a torch, or "pine-knot." No 
funeral was preached. "Why should a hog's funeral be preached?" she 
pathetically said. 

Once a man came to her mother's home and told her if she would go 
v/ith him he would take her to a FREE land. A group of sixteen colored 
folks collected and came to Indiana with the man. 

At the age of sixteen she married William White of "Kanetucky," and 
they came to Grant county where she has lived ever since. At that time 
there were no railroads nor "turn-pikes" and water stood in pools on the 
ground the year 'round. 

Marion consisted of a few log houses and one store. 
The first she knew about the Civil War was one morning she went to 
wash for the "missies" and the "missus" was crying and said "Jim" (hef 
husband) would have to go to war. She persuaded Mrs. White to go to 
Jonesboro with her. She did not want to go for every one would call her 
"nigger." But that day there was a big crowd collected, talking excitedly 
about the war. One woman said: "Why can't we let the 'niggers' go and 
do the fighting for themselves? The war will be over by breakfast time." 
But breakfast, dinner and supper passed by many times before the awful 
war was over. 

Mrs. White is the mother of ten children, five boys and five girls, all 
but two of whom are dead. She is a pleasant old lady with snow-white 
hair and kindly eyes. She would laugh merrily at parts of her own story; 
at others she would assume a tragic, pitiful, or half-defiant air. 



"I'm glad I've lived although I've worked like a 'clinker'! I've worked 
sll my life and have nothing to show for it, but I'm glad Im livin'. I hope 
to go to rest when I'm done with this life. Surely I've a right to REST." 



'INTERESTING FACTS" 

The first negro brought into Grant County was brought by Mrs. John 
Wallace, the mother of the present Mr. John Wallace. Her husband had 
been appointed paymaster over this territory and she came from Washing- 
ton ahead of her husband with the negro, Frank Lewis. Aft'^r he began 
to work for them he took the name of Wallace, which was the custom in 
tho^e days. Mrs. Wallace came over the old Marion-Anderson stage lint'. 
The negro rode until he reached the city when he climVed out and walked 
beside the coach. Ihe citizens raised quite a disturbance about it, but Mrs. 
Wallace stepped out and showed them her small pearl handled revolver and 
said thft they touched the negro at their peril. Mr. Wallace was a very 
prominent man and that was probably the reason that they obeye'L After 
Mr. Wallace died Frank went to Peru, where he lived until a few years ago, 
when he died. 

Mr. John Wallace, Jr., was the first boy to take piano lessons and bis 
father brought the first piano into the county, and Hiram Weeks, an uncle, 
brought the first melodeon. 

Mr. John Wallace, Sr., was the first judge to sentence a man to be 
hung in this county. The crime was not committed here, however, but in 
Wabash. A man and woman had killed five people and buried them on 
their farm under their bedroom and directly under their bed. Mr. Hubbard 
w."s t'-e <^'erencrnt's name. The crime was committed on the farm of Mr. 
John Wallace'.'^ uncle snd the de''endant was a brother to the judge. The 
man wps sentenced to be hung and the woman to life imprisonment. Mi'. 
Wallace almost gave up the judgship before he would give the death sen- 
tence. There has never been such a touching scene since in the court 
rooms of Marion. 

Recently Mr. Wallace, Jr., paid the lady a visit. She seemed to be 
in perfect health for an old lady; in fact^ she was handsome and had a 
beautiful complerion. She told Mr. Wallacte that her trial was absolutely 
jvjst and also that of her husband. (She was supposed to be the worse of 
the two). It has been but a few years since she passed away. She was 
never violent, but always calm. It is said that if one would look at her 
they would never guess her a murderess. 

— Told by Mr. John Wallace. 



GEORGE BECHTOL (63 YEARS OLD> 

Mr. Bechtol was born three miles east of Wabash, Indiana, sixty-three 
years ae-o, but has lived in Grant County for thirty-seven years. 

When he came to Washington township there was very little clearing 
and practically no ditching done, for the water stood on the surface of the 
ground mo^t of the year. 

He paid $800 for forty acres of land, clearing the forest, ditched it, 
and built his little cabin. When he and h's young wife first came to their 
new home they came over a "pvmcheon" road that was so narrow that one 
wagon could not pass another. Ore had to be sm-e he had the "right of 
way" or he might have to "back up" so the other fellow could go by. 

In an early d?y a part of Mr. Bechtol's farm had been prairie land, 
due to a beaver dam near by. The beavers had cut all the large trees 
down. He has often unearthed large oak logs that once made a part of 
the dam, but when they are exposed to the air they dry up, or wither. 

This "open space" was the only part of the surrounding land that was 
not heavily wooded. The early settlers had used this open snace for a 
common meadow land and when the grass was "ripe" they would all come 
in and cut and "cure" it and then haul it to their several homes on "Yankee 
sleds" — a kind of mudboat. 

Mrs. Bechtol said if she had seen the home to which she was coming 
before they moved they probably would not have come, for it looked like 
"desolation" with its old dilapidated cabin, and the water standing every- 
where. She said many a time the first season, they would have to get ud 
in the night to move out of the range of the shower, for the roof leaked 



so badly that it would be pouring down upon the bed. 

She had to 1 eep old coverlets and comforts piled thick upon the beds 
to keep the water from the feather beds. But soon they built a better 
cabin and started their pioneer home. 

The last deer killed in that part of Grant County was shot on his 
place. The old "Indian Trail" from Marion to Fort Wayne also went 
through this place. 

Mr. Bechtol hauled flour from Lagro to Marion forty years ago and 
delivered it at Mo?e Bradford's grocery, and at Koontz's restaurant which 
was located where Price's clothing store now is. 

"But that old swamp-land is now the richest land found anywhere, 
and Grant County roads are superfine," said Mr. Bechtol. 



AN OLD MARICN FAMILY 

The name Goldthwaite, sometimes SDePed Goldthwayte, Goldt^-'waite 
?r,d Goldthait, came from a family in Yorkshire, England — a part of Eng- 
land occup'ed by Nidderdale Yeomen. The name "thwaite" means a clear- 
ing, or land re claim^ed from the forest, and "Gold" was probably a bap- 
t;smal nam.e. 

Cimon Goldthwaite's people came from England and settled in Ma-- 
sachusetts. His father, .Tohn Goldthwaite, came with an expedition led by 
Gen. Rufus Prtman to Ohio in 1789. 

Cimon Goldthwaite was born in 1820 in Fairfield county, Ohio. While 
a youth he moved with his mother and sisters to Marion, Indiana. Mr. 
Goldthwaite taught school, studied law, was admitted to the bar, but soon 
abandoned the profession for a mercantile business which his sons carried 
on until January, 1916. 

He w?s a man of earnest ccnvictiors and a high sens^ of honor; a 
strong local preacher of the Methodist Episcopal church. He died in 1875 
leaving a widow with seven small children. It was in 1848 that he met and 
married Martha Emily Stevens, who had come with her parents to Indiana 
in 1846, from Logan, Hocking courty, Ohio. 

Martha Emily Stevens wps the daughter of Elias Robert Stevens and 
M?tilda Brown Rose. The Ste^'ers fami'y came to Am^r'ca from Wales 
and settled in Pennsylvania. Flias' father. William Stevens, was a soldier 
in the American Revolution. The father of Matilda Brown Rose wps John 
Rose, a gunner on Perry's battleship, and lost his life in the battle of Lake 
Erie. The Rose family came from Scotland. Martha Emily Stevens, or 
Mrs. Cimon Goldthwaite, was the grand-daughter of William Stevens and 
John Rose. 

Mrs. Goldthwaite possessed a most interesting history. She was born 
in 1832 in Bedford county, Pennsylvania, at an inn on the top of a moun- 
tain situated on what is now the Main Continental Highway. Her parents 
county, Ohio. She lived through the period when the fl'nts gave way to 
candles which in turn were followed by lamps, gas and e^ectric'ty; 

While Mr. and Mrs. Goldthwaite bad own<^d two small houses, the ov° 
in which they reared their family is what is still called a picturesque res"'- 
dence property. From s cornfield the placp developed and every shrub and 
vine were planted by Mrs. Golr'thv aite. Even to the end, at t^e age of 
eighty-seven, she kept in close touch with the managing of her house and 
she took an intense interest in life. Such a character developed a family 
devotion that left an imprint on the larp-e circle of frienris. 

— Contributed by Miss Emily Goldthwaite, 1920. 



EARLY GRANT COUFTV 

Mrs. tout has heard her mother and her husband's mother tell much 
about the Indians. She said the Indian men and women both rode astri'^'e, 
the women using shawls and blankets for skirts and tying large bright 
handkerchiefs around their heads. 

The Indian Reserve was near Jalapa and in 1828 t^-ere were 1,800 
Indians on the banks of the Mississinewa and Wabash. Her father tr-^dod 
with them. They made maple sugar and molasses. She said as far back 
as she had heard of them the Indians were very friendly. Some of their 
words were, pakoosh — "meat." and paqua'^heegun — "bread." 

Often as many as twelve Indians would come to a white man's house 



and stay all night. The white people in the early days had log cabins with 
latch strings on tne doors. No one evtr tnougnt of locking tneir doors. 

xhere are inciian mounds ail tnrough the woods and in plowing the 
men often find darts and weapons used by the Indians. 

In 181:y theie ueie only about two or three houses and a small store 
in what is now Marion. In lb27 theie was the first mill on the Mississinewa, 
where Charles' mill now stanas. 

As late as 1830 and '4u there were deer to be found around the 
county, bears, coons, 'opossums, skunks, wolves, otters, beavers, wild cats 
and loxes were hunted for their furs. One man claimed that he saw a 
lion but that is doubted. 

Every family had its riding horses, with a saddle for the women. Her 
mother spun tne flax and made table cloths, grain sacks and carpets. She 
has a ball of thread yet that her mother made. It is strong and very 
durable. 

Her father's mother in 1830, with three small children, traveled alone 
from New It ork to Grant county. She came by way of the Great Lakes 
and canals and stage coaches. There were very brave women in those 
days, 'ihey were not afraid of work. Her mother-in-law worked in the 
fields showing all of the children how to work. 

— Told by Mrs. Laura J. Stout, aged 77 years, 1920. 



ALEXANDER LINDSAY (65 YEARS OLD) 

Mr. Lindsay was born April 23, 1856, about one and one-half miles 
east of Fairmount. The family moved two miles south of Sweetser in 1857, 
so most of his life was spent there. 

'ihis part of Grant county was low and flat. There were ponds and 
marshes that were open the year 'round. A green scum would collect on 
these which produced malaria. People would have ague all summer. The 
remedy was a dose of quinine, as much as could be lifted on a case-knife 
blade. About four doses would break up the ague for a week. Finally 
the malaria would develop into "third day ague." Mr. Lindsay had it in 
its worst form when he was a boy. One day an old lady, named Eliza 
Paine, told him she v/ould cure him if he would do just as she said. 

when he felt the chill coming on heat water and put into a "tobacco" 
bucket; make half gallon of ginger tea; put the feet into the hot water and 
drink the tea. As soon as sweat started go to bed, cover with four or five 
comforts and a feather bed on top. 

He tried this remedy and slept for two hours. When he awoke he was 
as wet with sweat as if he had been dipped in the river, but it was a cure 
for he ever had the ague again. 

He never went to school one hundred and fifty days in his life. He 
started in Ray's old Third Part Arithmetic and in thirty-four days was over 
to "Interest." He never got a "whipping" himself but one time when the 
teacher was whipping another boy the end of the rod hit him and he 
thought he WES hurt and just cried and cried. 

He used to work for $15 per month, or fifty to sixty cents a day. 

He was small when the Civil War broke out but he remembers the 
soldiers going to the war. He lived back off of the road and ran down to 
the bars when he heard the fife and drum. The only man in their neighbor- 
hood who took a weekly newspaper was Elijah King. It was the Cincinnati 
Enquirer. One night about two o'clock Mr. King came to Mr. Lindsay's 
father's home and knocked and Mr. Lindsay invited him in. He said: 
"Well, Dan, the war's 'broke out!' " They lit the old grease lamp, stirred 
the fire, read the paper and talked until morning. They talked about the 
attack on Fort Sumpter. 

Mr. King would bring his paper over every week and they would dis- 
cuss the contents. He went over the neighborhood and read the paper 
to the people, keeping them informed of events. 

Mr. Lindsay recalls when the soldiers began to come home wounded. 
Mr. Byrun Heavilin had one-half of his hand cut off. Daniel Shockey was 
shot in the mouth. The ball was taken out at the back of his head; half 
the under jaw was removed, and he is living yet. 

The following was found by Mr. Lindsay in a tile mill in Liberty town- 
ship. It was taken from an old Justices Guide Book of the Statutes of 1845: 



"State of Indiana to Andrew Buller, J. P. Grant County, Constable of 
Liberty 'iownship, greeting: lou are hereby commanded to summon Mar- 
tin bates to appear beiore me, Solomon Pardons, a justice of the Peace of 
said township, at my office on the 2i/th day oi November at 11 o'clock a. m. 
on said aay to answer to Alexander McKee on a due bill to the amount of 
$2.b2, i^c inteie.t here Oj. niai.e UL.e service anu re^-um. 

"Given under my hand and seal this 24th day of November A. D. 
1845, one dollar cieoit the 25th of uu.y A. D. 184b. 

(i:3b-.L) ".SJLOM^iN PAiibONS, Justice of Peace." 

Mr. Lindsay went to tie old Indian church (.west of Fox Station) in 
a "spring wagon forty-seven years ago. An Indian, Wan Coon, preached. 
Ke tried to teach the Indians to be civilized. While he preached he placed 
it revolver on the pulpit desk and thus impressed them. They were well- 
beiiaveu at ail tm.ts uuiing ti.e service. 

One t.ir.e uan.es Sassaiias, called "Indian Jim," was going on the old 
Delphi road. Iwo other Indians met h.ni, Sc-yin^: 

"Where gc, e^in,?" 

"Go to pzeach. ' 

"\v^hat get for preach, Jim?" 

"Get duilt.r.'' 

"'ihats damned little pay for preach." 

"Well, its damned litt.e pi each!" 

Not unwitty even for an Indian. 

Mr. Lindsay was atraid when he was a child of old Indian Jim because 
he was an "Injun." 

"O, times have changed so much since I was a boy. Young fellows 
did not have much chance to make good then except by hard w )rk. There 
was no bluffing — life was a stern reality. But even at that the old day* 
were good," was Mr. Lindsay s words at parting. 



^ 



MEMORIES OF THE MAN WHO HAS BEEN INMARION LONGEST— 

8E YEARS 

C_ David Hogin was born at Lancaster, Ohio, March 22, 1832. His par- 
'ents came to Marion in 1836, hence he has been a resident of Marion for 
eighty-five years. 

He has watched the growth of Marion from a little pioneer village to 
a thriving industrial center. 

He does not remember the "falling stars" of 1833 for he was a mere 
infant, but has heard his parents tell about it often. Many people thought 
the end of time had come. 

In the great flood of 1847 he was one of those who went in a flat 
boat to rescue a widow, Mrs. Edwards, and three or four children. Mr. 
Hogan does not think anyone about Marion was killed in this flood, but 
it did a lot of damage, carried down fences and hay stacks — one with an 
Old rooster on it crowing lustily. 

They were building the first frame court house when t^^e Hopins came 
to Marion. It was used as a school house also, for at time. Robert Guilbert 
and Dr. Ayers were teachers there. This old frame court house was finally 
sold to a man named Butler, who used it for a hotel and called it the 
"White House." It burned later. 

The old fram.e court house was replaced by one of brick. The bricks 
were made of clay found in the Indian mounds around town and were 
burned on the ground where used. 

When the Hogans first came to Marion there were only a few families 
living here, among them being Sam McClure and Robert McClure, who 
owned a hotel back of the Goldthait store, called the "Indiana Hou^e"; 
Riley Marshall, grandfather of Vice-President Thomas Marshall; Tom Wall, 
a tanner whose tan-yard was on Boots street, north of the present post- 
office (Mrs. Kile is his great-granddaughter) ; John Moore, Billy Miles, a 
blacksmith who marr.'ed John Moore's daughter; James Sweetser, who 
owned a store on the north side of Third street; his brother. Bill Sweetser, 
who owned a store on the south side, just across the street; Mr. Stubbins, 
a tailor; Martin Boots who had a distillery and sold whiskey at 10 cents a 
gallon; Reddin Chance, county treasurer, and David Branson. 

Bill Sweetser lived in a cabin in the woods on what is now the alley 



Rr.n?n^rf ^^^'f ''''",'^ f"l^ f' ^^^^^ "^ ^^"^^'^ «" ^he river at what is now 
r/l'^f , f"t. started a tan-yard. Shortly after coming he invited 
several families to his home one Sunday morning at nine o'clack for a Meth- 
^olfn/h'' ""'rf'"^- .^^? "^Sht before he set a seine and caught a four- 
pound bass. It was too late to clean it before the meeting so he put it in 
a tub of water. He asked Mr. Hogin and family to stay ?or dinner. Sa 3 
watPr L/^^T-^^ ""^"^'"^ ^^^y T" ^°^ *h^^ fish kept floundering in the 
TnH .11 ?.^ ^"^ so much noise he was afraid the people would hear it 
and all of them want to stay for dinner. 

The father of Sam and Bob McClure built the first log jail on Boots 

?an tut h^e'tor'\\^"?'^'." °"^^" "^"^ ^'' P"^ •" the frfnt' room of the 
ja I but he tore the door down and earned it down to the mill pond and 
threw It in saying: "I get tired of opening that damned door." The other 
door he took and placed under Riley Marshall's barn 

,.v.o V"""^ p Methodists were holding a revival in the old court house. A 
preacher, Rev. Hall, was conducting a quarterly conference when a fellow 
« \% name of Branson (a saloon keeper) came over and told Hall he 
n,?W O.J"' "^a'^ preaching as it hindered his business. Hall left the 

?nd^ hP i.rn"?''.!. " l"" "^¥1^ ^^f '?:'«" 't««^' t°«k him by the coat collar 
and the seat of the pants and tossed him out of doors on a wood pile. (Ap- 
parently Rev. Hall watched as well as prayed.) 

Enoch Hendricks would get intoxicated once in a while One time 
make live I 'done"'' ^' '^''^' "^'"' ^ ^^^' "'^^^ ^^^^""' ^"^ ^ ^-11 of a 

i. r. ^%-^Hi '■''^^"'fJ 'u^^^^ house was built on the Horton place at what 
IS now Eighth and Washington streets. There was a big woods between it 
and town. It was a two-room building of slabs of logs. The seats were 
S,n . T • '^^i:^l'^l'- ^}^''^^ half way around the wall so that the pupil, 
while studying, had his back to the center of the room. The first cemetery 
was on Fifth and Gallatin streets on what is now Joel Overman's proper+v 
It was just a small cleared place in the woods. When the town grew up 
to It, It was removed to Third street hill. There were never more than 
seven or eight persons buried in this first cemetery. 

• '^here xvas a ferry boat at Adams street for crossing the Mississinewa 
river. The island just west of Washington street bridge was much larger 
than now and was "farmed." Corn was planted there 

No street had gravel on it. Some of the storekeepers brought slabs 
ot stone from the river and put in front of their stores for a walk. It was 
a treat to walk on a sidewalk. 

There was a dwelling house where the Oyster Bay was located. Across 
the alley was the block house for protection from the Indians. It was made 
ot logs split m two without the bark on them. It had holes in the chinks 
lor the guns. The whole town came here for protection when there was 
a raid by the Indians. When Mr. Hogin first remembers it the children 
used it for a play house, and it was torn down three or four years later 

The county treasurer was Reddin' Chance. He went about the county 
to collect taxes taking pay in skins. He would sometimes come back to 
town with only his head showing above the furs. Mr. Hogin's father bought 
these furs of Chance and sold them to Davy Conner. Often he has seen 
their barn stacked with fur from floor to rafters — beaver, fox, raccoon 
deer skin and squirrel. 

David Conner was a very early settler in Grant County. He had a 
trading post down the river at Sutton's Ford. He had a grist mill, later 
sold to Barley, and known as Barley's mill. Conner was also government 
agent for the Indians. He would go to Fort Wayne in a big wagon with 
a nail keg full of silver half-dollars with which to pay the Indiians He 
^wned a small store and generally got back most of their money. He also 
oought furs of the Indians and sold them to Eastern merchants or Detroit 
buyers. 

One time four Indians came into Conner's post to kill him, for they 
thought he had wronged them in some way. He picked up a hammer and 
burst in the top of a keg of powder, struck a match and said, "We will all 
go to hell together." The Indians left with precipitation. 



/er' 



One time Conner was sick and sent to Marion for Dr. Sliiveley. When 
the doctor was re. oy to .ea\e Conner asked him what he owed him. Shiveley 
said he siippeted it would be worth about a dollar, "I want to pay you,'" 
said Conner, and sent his daughter to the cellar for some money. She re- 
turned with a wash-pan full of half dollars. "Take your pay," said Conner,. 
And 01 q^aoue d^[di as.o^,, "pies aq •s.i,3[[op-j[Bi{ oav; 40o:^ Aa[aAii{s uaq^. put? 
you f ,r coming out here," and made him take all he could hold in both 
hands. 

Mr. Hogin said there were six or seven hundred Indians on the Reser- 
vation. They would come to town, men and women, on horseback single 
file. They got in the habiit of riding that way when there were no roads: 
and continued to do so after roads were built. 

If an Indian killed anyone the rest of the Indians would punish him, 
A certain Capt. Dickson shot a man on Jim Turner's porch on the Peru 
road. The local authorities were going to send men to capture him, but the 
Indian Chief, Meshingomesia, sent a posse of Indians after him saying, 
''No! No! White man no find, Indian find him." They came back — all but 
the murderer. They had punished him. 

Mr. Hogin said he learned to talk enough of the Indian language to talk 
to tl em when they cam-" to the store. He has often been to their adoptions 
and feasts. They usually had whiskey, dog meat and hominy to eat. He 
could drink a little whiskey and eat a little hominy, but he could not go the 
dog meat. 

One time, when just a boy, Mr. Hogin was standing back of his fath- 
er's store, (located where Merritt's drug store now stands), and several 
Indians came filing into town to trade. One squaw took her papoose which 
was strapped on a board and stood it against a stump, then she threw the 
reins of her pony over the same stump and went into Jim Sweetser's store 
to buy something. Mr. Hogin heard the little pappoose scream and turned 
in time to see a great fierce sow pull down the board upon which the pap- 
poose was strapped and with one awful bite take in the whole face of the 
baby. The mother, too, heard her baby's cry, and rushed out only to find 
the awful tragedy finished. Her agony was indescribable. Then with that 
silent Spartan-like indifference to pain that characterizes the Red race, the 
Indfans collected about the scene. One young warrior picked up the dead 
child and placed it in front of him on his pony and started for Indian Vil- 
lage. The other Indians, including the broken-hearted mother, mounted 
their ponies and silently fell into line, and thus this weird cortege left the 
village of Marion, with one more sad incident added to ts pioneer history. 

Mr. Hogin cast his first vote for Scott in 1852. He was not quite 
twenty-one but was married and started in business so no one thought to 
challenge his vote, but he, himself, was so sorry after he put the ballot in 
the box, that he would have given ten dollars to recall the act, but he could 
not do it then. He did not even tell his wife what he had done, for he was 
sure she would not have approved his act. That was the last Whig election, 

Mr. Hogin said he was raised a Methodist and has always liked them 
very much, but his wife belonged to the Christian church, so he went into 
that. "One can live right in any church if he wants to; it is a question 
of the heart, after all," he said. 

In those early days there was an abundance of game — deer, wild 
turkeys, squirrels, etc. People generally lived on venison. Wild hogs were 
very dangerous. The settlers would kill the hogs, cure the meat, then take 
ir to Cincinnati to sell or trade. The trip was made in about twelve days. 
They drove to Richmond, took the stage to Hamilton, Ohio, then a large 
bus from there to Cincinnati. They usually hitched from six to eight 
horses to the stage or bus on account of the roads, and had to change every 
eight or ten miles. They made about twenty-five miles in a day. 

The first two weeks after the Hogins came to Marion they lived on 
venison and potatoes for they could not get a pound of flour. They finally 
had to send a man to Fort Wayne to get flour. 

People would often get lost in the dense forests of Grant County in 
those early days. One time a man and his daughter started somewhere and 
got lost. About forty or fifty neighbors started to search for them and at 
last found them, the father, exhausted, sitting against a tree asleep, and 
the little girl was lying with her head on his knee. They were so weak 



they could not go any farther and were nearly eaten up hy mosquitoes. 

After this long conversat.on with Mr. Hogin we arose to go, under 
protest from him, for he said he loved to talk about those old days. "Tired? 
Well, I guess not. I am not old, I'm eighty-nine years young!" And truly 
it would seem so, for this venerable gentleman is youthful in spite of his 
.silvered hair and well-nigh sightless eyes. 

"May peace be with you," were his last words to us, and we felt the 
benediction of eighty-nine rich, full years upon us. 

— Elizabeth Wilson, Cora Straughan. 

^ 

ONE OF GRANT COUNTY'S HAUNTED HOUfES 

There vsed to be an old log house of one room and a loft, about 
tv>elve miies below Marion on the Mississinewa rivr. It was built by a 
pioneer from Ohio, who was killed by an Indian soon after he settled 
tl ere, and his wife was carried away by the Indians. The log hut was built 
several rods back from the road, which, at this point, ran through a dense 
f ore; t. 

Naturally, after the tragedies above mentioned, the house was said to 
"be haunted. Stories were told of fires and strange lights seen in the lower 
room, and mysterious sounds heard in the loft. As a result, no one would 
live in tie hut. 

C'ne winter a "trrnoon three boys living several miles up the river, 
decided they would hike to the hut, and, if poisible, find out just what 
caused the:e "harnts." 

They arrived at the houfe about the middle o^ the aft-rnoon. They 
licid been telling so many stories of the house that when they got to it 
they were almost afraid to enter it. Finally they ventured in, but heard 
nor saw nothing, so they built a fire in the great fi eolace, declaring they 
were going to make it so warm that the ghosts would leave. They bantered 
ench other to s'e^r) there all night, and finally decided to do so. Darkness 
drew on, and the boys ate their supper. A little later they heard a strange 
1. i.se in the loft. They were too frightened to sp-^ak and the awful silence 
added to their terror. They listened intently and h'^ard a sound as if some 
one were rocking' in an old broken rocking chair, then they heard a woman 
singing her baby to sleep. By this time they were able to talk and reasoned 
that some one hi'd recently moved into the hous". They went s'iftly up 
the peg steps to the loft to beg pardon for intruding but when they got 
there the sound ceased and not a person could be seen. There was nothing 
there but an empty rocking chair. One of the boys tried to summon his 
courage by sitting in the old chair. 

There was a roll of rag carpet standing in one corner of the loft; it 
beiian to rock back and forth. The two boys ran to the steps, but the one 
ritting in the chair said, "Let us kick the devil out o^" that carpet," and kick- 
ed it vigorously. Some unseen force, which felt like a man's hand, shoved 
t' em all down and pi'.ed them in a heap at the bottom. They all plunged 
iVr the door at the same t.'me, and didn't stop their high speed until 
thry were half wry home. 

Th')se who were not superstitious explained t' e matter by saying the 
\\;nd blew through the cracks of the old loft and produced the singing 
iioie and t e sound as of the rocking chair. The rest, they said. w?'> fear 
and irnagiration. 

— Told to Eugene Wilson by his grandmother. 

•■^- . 

CHARLES HOLSINGER 

Mr. Charles H)ls'nger was born at Wurtemburg. Germany, in 184.). 

He went to the German school until he came to America, at nine years 
of age. Ihe German teachers were very strict. The punils did not dare 
to assert themselves. Mr. Holsinger was whipped at school for being tardy. 
He remem'evs when he was ouite small of his aunt carrying him to school 
to be vaccinated, for the teachers did the vaccinat'on. 

He came across the ocean in the "Solomon Fox" vessel. It required 
thirty-four days to make th'^ voyage from Havre. France, to New York. 

At Strassburg he saw the wonderful cathedral. 

His father ciune to America because of the r'vnd military service in 
Germany. It took too many of the best years of a man's life. 



Grat ni^mhers of Germans emigrated to America because they were 
dissatisfied with the German government. 

Often the gcvernment would loan its war hor 6= (no longer fit for 
vi"-oroi'p ser'^'ice'* to farmers to cultivate their fields. He remembers seeing 
one such horse begin to fall into line of battle when it heard some military 
music. 

When he came to New York emigrant station there was a missionary 
sG'ling Biblps for thirty-six cents each. He went up and asked t^e mission- 
ary to give him one but the missionary told him he could not read it. "Let 
mi show you," s?id Holsinger, and he proceeded to read it. whereupon 
t' e mippionrry gave it to hir, and he has it yet in his possession, a much 
cherished volume. 

i^'rom New York the Holsinger family came to Cincinnati and from 
there to Preble County, Ohio, where they farmed a nice farm. 

Mr. Holsinger was married to Malinda HaUer in 1881. She was a 
Hoosier girl, having received her education at Liber College. 

They lived in lulipna for a time then went to N?braska and remained 
for two ypars near North Loupe; then bac'- to Indiana a'~d on ^"> an Tr;nglish 
settlement in Tennessee, named Rugby. This was an "ideal" settlement 
formed by Thomas Hughes and Charles Kingsley, but like the Owen ex- 
periment at New Harmont it proved a failure, and was changed into a 
health resort. Thomas Hughes visited the colony three times. It was lo- 
cated in t'^e Tennessee mountains. 

The Holsingers lived in the house which had been erected for the 
Browns of England. 

The Holsinger children attended the Rugby Road school, taught by 
Laura Taylor, sifter of Rev. James Taylor, now president of Taylor Uni- 
versity. His father was the "circuit rider" of Rugby neighborhood. 

From Rugby Mr. Holsinger and family came to Grant County and are 
now living near the Soldiers' Home Corner. 

Er e~t Holsinger, former teacher in Marion High School, is a son of 
Charles Holsinger. 

* 

REV. KEMMER 
Rev. Kemmer was born in 1847 in Germany, b'lt his parents, thinking 
America would be a better place to raise their chi'd came to the United 
States and settled in Ohio in 1850. They lived in Lima until 1872, then 
went to Zanesville where Mr. Kemmer served as pastor in a Lutheran 
church. They came to Grant County in 1882. 

Mr. Kemmer was well educated and while preaching decided he would 
teach too. He had to go a long way to take the examination and, because 
of the distance, was late. The others had begun and the officials were 
afraid Mr. Kemmer would never make it, so advised him to wait. He wanted 
to begin teaching and had to have the certificate, so he talked it over with 
the c^.er'- and the father of the clerk knew Kemmev and knew ^e w?s q-ain- 
ing a fine reputation so they granted him a certificate to teach without 
taking the examination. The next year he took it and made good. 

In 1872 he married Catherine Fouts in Morgan County, Ohio. They 
had twelve children, seven of whom ar^ still liv'ng. 

Mr Kemmer had a charge near Wabash in a Lutheran church until 
1893, when he retired. He then moved to Converre. From there he went 
to a farm about seven miles from Marion and about sev^n years ago he 
moved to 2127 South Washington street, where he and his wife now live. 
TVev came to Grant County about the time o^ the discovery of p-as. H" 
saw Marion as a small village and now sees it as a small city. He said 
the great "jump" came with the coming of the gas for then the people 
began wal-ng ud. , , , ^ • n 
Rev. Kemmer does not preach regularly, but occasionally. 
^ 

SCHOOLS OF WASHINGTON TOWNSHIP— PAST AND PRESENT 

It is not our purpose to give an extended account of the rural schools 
of the towrship, or county, but to state in a general way the progress as 
observed and exper:-enced by the writer in the locality m which he spent 
his boyhood days, presuming that like conditions prevailed m the other 
localities. 



Free educfticn is a tasic principle of our country. It is true the 
the maintenance of oi r schools is by taxation, but the benefits are shared 
by rich and poor alike. Some, however, object to this arrang-ement or 
system for the reason that having no children of their own to send to school 
they contend they reap no benefit from it. 

They fail to recognize the fact that the common school is one of the 
mainstays of oi r civilization and one of the chief corner-stones of the 
republic. There is no greater a security or guarantee (except the Christian 
religion) for the safety and happiness of a people than a well directed sys- 
tem ■ elucat.on. 

That the schools of Indiana in an early day. as well as now, were not 
perfect is self-evident. Ther" wer-^ m?ny difficult'-^- to 'overcome, log cab- 
ins with paper windows and benches without backs for seats, 
kind 01 buildings used. 

The t-xt bo-^k-. while answering the p'^roose, were not t^e h^^t. The 
length of the school term was two and a half to three months during the 
winter when going to and from school was the most di.Iisult, on account o^ 
bad roads, and o'ten the lack of any roads at all. 

One of the first school houses built in the nort'^west part of Washing- 
ton townsHp -w?s in section eight on the land now owned by Moses T. 
Iradford's widow. It was a long cabin typical of all other school houses of 
that time. Any ore that could read, write, spell and perhaps cypher a 
little, w?s permitted to teach. 

Such, in brief, were some of the conditions and difficulties unHer which 
the schools in an early day were established and maintained. But this state 
of affairs did mt last many years, for, as the population increased, better 
houses and accommodations and more efficient teachers were demanded, co n- 
sequent> the little frame building took the place of thp log cabin, and the 
teacher had to know, besides reading, writ'ng, spellin-T,- and arithmetic, 
■somet^^ing ab ut geography, grammar and history 

Previous to this time the school houses wer^ locat'^d where they were 
the most corveniert to the greatest number, but when the frame houses 
wn-e built tl ey were placed on section lins two miles apart so that all the 
children living on four sections could attend the same school. 

These frame houses were a wonderful improvement over the log ca'-in 
and served for school purposes for almost a generation, but as the country 
continued to grow in population and wealth, othfr and better buildings 
lecame necessary and the brick he^an to replace the frame buildings. Phy- 
siology also was added to the course of study. 

7'Ve rp^ui>emert? of the teachers weve rai?ed, the school l^w modi- 
fied, revised and amended until Indiana occupied an enviable position in her 
school system, having almost reached the top in the efficiency of her schools. 

— O. L. Bish (Age 75). 

* • 

HISTORY OF GRANT COUNTY 
T^e Indian was the sole inhabitant of the cou'^ty until 1823. when 
the white man came. Goldsmith Gilhert, from ne?r Muncie, was the first 
white settler, and he established an Indian trading post in Pleasant town- 
ship. Martin Boots entered the first land in Grant county, after the 
county was organized. 

The first marriape in the county was that of Mr. and Mrs. John Mc- 
Cnrmick. The second was that of Nelson Conner and Sallie Boots, daushter 
of M?rtin Eorits. These were both in 1830, and as the cumty was not 
organized at that time, they had to go to M'lncie to g»t their license. The 
first license to be issued wrs to Tohn Smith and Mary Ann Thomas, in 
1831. The first birth in the county was Robert Mal]ott. in 1827, and the 
first death was Charity, daughter of David Branson, in 1826. 

The first court house was built on the site of the present court house, 
and was built of wood. This was built in 1833-34 by James Trimble. The 
second court house was built in 1838 by George W. Webster, and was 
built o^ bric^\ 

The first jail was built in 1831. It was built of loes, and cost about 
$500. In 1868 it was declared insufficient for prisoners, and a new one 
was contracted for. This one had a residence connected, and cost about 
$34,000. 



The first school was held on the Foster farm, in 1828. It was in a log 
cabin. William James was the first teacher. In 1830 a school was held 
in a small log house on the Martin Boots farm, now the west side of the 
public square. Ihe only qualification necessary for a school teacher were 
to be able to read fluently, spell correctiy anu to know the multiplication 
table up to tne third table. 

Ihe first newspaper was the Marion Democrat-Herald, which was first 
published in 1842. 

About 1890, some surveyors who were digging for the Kirkwood gravel 
road, southeast of Fairmount, uncovered an Indian burying ground. The 
peculiar thing about this was that they were buried in a sitting posture, 
the heads being uncovered first. The bones were yellow with age, but the 
teeth were weu preserved. 

Also, when Marion was first laid out, several Indian mounds were 
found. One was situated just back of Buchanan's old marble shop on 
Third street, and the first court hovse was built on a mound. This one 
was the largest in Grant county, being sixteen feet in height and sixty feet 
in diameter. Ihese mounds contained many human bones, and an expert 
from Chicago said that the people must have been s-even feet tall. 

The bones of some mastodons were also found. These were broken up, 
but a part of a jaw-bone was found which weighed thirty-reven pounds. Al- 
so, a tooth was found which weighed seven pounds. The expert said the 
mastodon itself probably weighed nine tons. 

— Extracts from an old Atlas of 1877, Compiled by Janice Wall, 1920. 



x^ ^ MRS. ELIZABETH HOBAUGH-ALLEN , 

/ Mrs. Elizabeth J. Allen, mother of Mr. Alvin Allen, tells the following 
story of early days: 

When a tiny girl she used to go on horseback from her home on to 
her Grandfather Hobaugh's home near the old Hobaugh cemetery. She 
had to go through a dense woods, so thick she could not see the sunshine. 
She had to pass close to the cemetery and coupled with a fear of Indians 
(who were not likely to be there) her journeys on the bridle path were not 
altogether pleasant. She was also afraid of a great log which lay by the 
path, which to her childish imagination, was the place of concealment of 
"wood-ogres." 

When she started to go home her grandfather would place back of her 
a sack of fine apples on the side-saddle, half the sack of apples would be 
on one side of the saddle and the other half on the other side, thus balanc- 
ing itself. And what apples they were! Not like these "sickly" four-cents- 
a-piece apples one buys these days, but great rosy vandivars and yellow 
bell-flowers that grew in luxurious bunches on the old apple trees. 

Her grandfather's cabin consisted of a living room, bed room and 
kitchen, which in those days was quite palatial. 

When her aunt, Priscilla Hobaugh, died in 1847 she remembers they 
placed the casket on the front porch for those who wished to view the 
corpse, although it was in February, and quite cold. 

She says she can almost hear yet the barn-raising "call" of her father. 
He would call out to the lifters, "hea-o-hea" as they hoisted the great logs 
in to place in building the barn. 

Her fatner worked for old Johnny Bocock for 60 cents per day, split- 
ting rails, clearing the forest, and all kinds of hard work. She recalls old 
Johnny Bocock's wife, quite blind, sitting by the open fireplace and knit- 
ting stockings. Every now and then she would say, "I've dropped a stitch," 
and someone would have to come and correct it. then she knit on. 

The house is yet standing; where she and Mr. Allen were married fifty 
years ago. She says the neighbors had threatened to serenade or "cow- 
bell' them, so they were married at night and not even the nearest neighbor 
knew it for ten days. 

Her husband, James Allen, was teaching at the time, and she was tak- 
ing c?re of her aged parents. 

When little Alvin was old enough to walk he would "toddle" down 
to the plank fence, climb to the top, slip the ring off the gate and run off 
to the school his father was teaching, about forty rods away. She says: 
"I can see his little bare tracks in the dust yet. Oh, the sweet memory of 



those past days. It has saved the world, the fact that mothers do not for- 
get." 

"Little Alvin seemed to have a mania for teaching. Before he had 
learned his letters I would ask him what he was going to do when he grew 
up and he would say, 'I will teach school like my papa.' 

"I began to teach him early. When he went to his first term he took 
his First reader, and I had a Second reader so he could study it at home. 

"Little Alvin's dream came true, for, sure enough, he taught school 
for many years, and is yet teaching history in the Marion High School. 

Mrs. Allen said she could remember long ago when she used to go 
with her grandfather to feed the sleek white pigs. She would ask him: 
"Grandpa, are you a Democrat or a Whig?" and he would say, "I am a 
Whig," so it must have been before "Republican" times. 

In conclusion, Mrs. Allen said, "Oh, those childhood memories — how 
sweet to think of them." 



MRS. Wm. LENFESTY 

In 1847 Sarah Coggeshell was born about one and one-fourth miles 
from the Frame Love farm, south of Marion. Her father entered land in 
about 1840. His land lay from about 34th and Washington streets to 
near Thirty-sixth, going west, covering forty acres. They next moved to 
the Frame Love farm. This was when Sarah was about thirteen years old. 
She went to school in a little log house, starting when she was about six 
years of age. 

Mrs. Lenfesty told of when her father first came here. He was work- 
ing for only 50 cents a day and they had no meat when they got word that 
the grandparents were coming. They were much worried for they thought 
they would have to go hungry and have nothing to give the grandparent! 
to eat. Mrs. Lenfesty's father just happened to open the door and look 
out when he saw a great flock of wild turkeys. He shot some and indeed, 
then they had a glorious feast. They thought it must be Providential that 
it should happen that way. 

Mr. Coggeshall was a great abolitionist in time of the Civil War. He 
helped many negroes to get to Canada. They had a big covered wagon 
that they put them in and then tied chairs and other pieces of furniture on 
the back to make it look as if they were moving. 

When the war was over and the smuggling of slaves was over with 
Mr. Coggeshall began on the liquor traffic. He was a strong prohibitionist, 
one of the first in the party. All his children and all his sons-inlaw were 
prohibition workers too. 

MRS. LUCY GOODRICH 

Lucy J. Miller was born February 26, 1847, in Sandusky County, Ohio. 
Her father was Christopher Miller and her mother Katherine Senter. In 
the Miller family there were six boys and six girls, Lucy being either sev- 
enth or eight, she has forgotten which. 

In 1854, when little Lucy was seven years old, they came to Grant 
County in a big covered wagon. While on the way, the man who was 
driving was talking and laughing with the girls and forgot to watch where 
they were going. Suddenly the wagon went over a high embankment but 
no one was seriously hurt. 

Mr. Coggeshall had never had but a few weeks of education but when 
his children were young he studied with them. He was well posted on edu- 
cational lines and 'was a very ardent worker. 

Miss Coggeshall was married to William Lenfesty in 1871, and has 
since then lived in Marion. 

She has been in W. C. T. U. work for fifty years and has worked dili- 
gently all that time. She was one of the few who tried so hard to keep 
the saloonkeepers from getting license, but they managed to get it anyway. 

Mrs. Lenfesty said she thought on the whole, the world was better 
then than now for the young people had higher ambitions and higher stan- 
dards than they do today. She wonders what the coming generation will be. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Lenfesty are now living on West Fourth street, Mar- 
ion, Indiana, and seemingly are well contented and very useful citizens. 



When they went t^roi^eh Van Buren the mud was so deep they sank fo- 
the axles. It was very early in the spring and the mud was so bad that it 
was almost impassable. 

The Miller home was about two miles north of Sweetser, not far from 
the river. William Raypholtz and Abraham Picksler owned the land north 
and northwest of them, James Weaver on the west, and on the south and 
east Moses Harter, William Hess and Harrison Bragg. 

For one whole winter the family, as large as it was, lived in a little 
round log cabin, about 15x20 feet. They were glad to get even this kind 
of home for the journey had been hard. 

Mrs. Miller and her daughters raised flax and made linen; they also 
raised sheep and made flannel. They spun and colored the fibers them- 
se'.ves brt hired tVe weaving done. They made their linen as it is made 
today but had ruder implements. They hackled and scutched and broke 
the stalks and combed it but they had no means by which to weave it into- 
cloth. 

Besides the care of the youngest child Lucy did a great deal of work 
on the farm. When the river rose too much for people to ford it, Lucy,. 
with her canoe, carried them across. 

Sweet er was a village with one home, a log cabin, in it at the first 
appearance of the Millers' in Grant county. 

In 1864, when Mr. Miller went on a trip to Idaho in a train of wagons, 
Lucy worked on their own farm, helped the neighbors, planted the corn,, 
tended it, harvested it and helped her uncle so he would be willing to help 
her in return. She also prepared the cane and took it to the sorghum fac- 
tory. She was paid for this whole season's work her board and a new^ 
calico dress. 

The Civil War is still very clear in her memory for she had three 
brothers in the army and one in the standing army. One was killed, one 
wounded, and the other went through without even a scratch. The wounded 
one is still living in the Soldiers' Home at Danville, Ind. 

She sa'd she never had but one dress at a time and they were all muslin 
that her mother dyed with maple bark, making them a clear purple. She 
went through the grades and went to the high school in Sweetser that 
lasted about six weeks. The Millers' were Methodists and attended Mt. Zion 
church, a little frame structure which has long ago fallen into ruin. 

When she was young the only amusement was dancing but she did 
not go to these very often. 

The first political campaign she remembers was when Buchanan and 
Fremont were candidates. This was when she was only ten years old but 
she remembers it distinctly. 

Lucy saw the first train pass through Marion. It was on the Pennsyl- 
vania line and was a great event. The railroad was almost out of town, 
for at that time Fourteenth street was the beginning of the country proper. 

The brick court house was new when they came here and was a very 
imposing building. The jail was a log cabin with iron doors. It was on 
Boots street, down near the river. 

On March 22, 1881, Lucy J. Miller married Ezra C. Hill with whom she 
lived until his death. Her second marriage was to Andrew Goodrich, Sep- 
tember 9, 1905. She was the mother of two girls, one of which died when 
four years old and the other is now living on a little farm a few miles 
southwest of town. 

Mrs. Goodrich has a watch taken from a rebel. It ran until recently, 
when she wound it too tight. 

She said she well remembered the plank and corduroy roads and the 
great difficulty they had in going over them, especially when a plank or 
two was out. 

Mrs. Goodrich now lives on her own little farm southwest of Marion, 
and is contented. She is a well-read, intelligent woman. Her mind is 
clear for she practices the things she preaches. She says, "My body must 
get old but my mind never shall for I don't like to think of becoming old/*" 

— Mary Herzog. 

Type by C. Stanley. 



TOLD BY AN OLD RESIDENT, ABOUT 75 YEARS OLD 

1. Early Churches 

The e-rly churches in Marion were just like they are now except that 
there were only two or three of them. The Methodist church was the first 
one here. The new sects coming in first had itinerant preachers, but this 
only lasted a short time. 

2. Early Schools — 

One of the earliest schools here was the old Academy, located where 
the Central School is now. It had one teacher, a Mr. Spurbeck Another 
school was the so-called college. It was where the Charles Block is now. 
Mr. Samuel Sawyer was the teacher there. 

3. The Picneer Hcrt:e 

Pioneer homes were quite often log cabins, with crude furnishings, 
made by the same hands that built the cabin, though sometimes people 
would bring some furniture with them when they came here from the East. 
The cabins were sometimes one room and sometimes two, with a porch 
between, separating them entirely. 

The main thing in the cabin was the fireplace, which was usually quite 
large, so that immense logs could be brought in and used in them as back 
logs, to burn for a long time. The fireplaces were used both to heat the 
houses and for cooking purposes. They were provided with large cranes to 
hang pots or kettles on. These cranes swung back and forth over the fire 
or out over the hearth. Skillets with legs about two or three inches high 
were used. They could be set down in the fire over the coals. Another 
thing used was a metal reflector that sat in front of the fire and reflected 
the heat back on the things cooking in the fireplace. Some things, such as 
potatoes, were just put into the hot ashes and baked. 

4. Travel — 

In pioneer times Marion had no railroads, consequently all the travel 
from here was done by stage coach or on horseback. The nearest trains 
were at Anderson and Wabash. There was canal travel out of Wabash, too. 
Mail came to Marion every other day, by stage coach from Anderson or 
Wabash. 

5. Amusements — 

The greatest amusement of pioneer children was the circus. It did 
not come to Marion very often, only about once every year. Other amuse- 
ments were Maypole parties and taffy-pullings. By the time these children 
had grown up the amusements were much more like they are now, such 
as dances and oyster suppers at the Spencer House. However, the amuse- 
ments of these childrens' parents were log-rolling, husking bees, quilting 
bees, anple-parings, barn raisings, etc. 

6. Indians. 

Early Marion had gravel streets and no sidewalks. Most of the houses 
sat out close to the street with their yards or gardens behind. Almost 
every day Indians would come to town riding along single file, the chief one 
among them riding in front and the squaws behind the men. They came 
to town to trade for, or buy calico for dresses. They always bought just 
eight yards. 

Only part of the people's clothes were made from hand-woven cloth 
at this time. Most of them were made from cloth brought from cities such 
as Toledo and Cincinnati. 

- — Information obtained by Susannah Jones. 

* 

A STORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 1848 

Mrs. Josephine Taylor tells the following story of her parents' ex- 
perience in France before they left for America in 1848: 

"Just before the real war started the men were warned to get out of 
Paris as quickly as possible. My father was one of the lucky few that suc- 
ceeded in getting away before the gates were closed, but his wife and two 
babies were left in the basement of their home while the fighting was 
going on. 

" "They fought for three days and three nights without ceasing. My 
mother said there were so many killed that one had to step in blood if he 
went upon the streets. As it was in warm weather cholera developed and 
many people died. The disease would seize people so quickly that they 



would drop dead in the streets. My mother sent her maid for some groc- 
eries, and on her way she took cholera and dropped dead before she could 
get home. 

"In a few days after the war was over the gates of Paris were opened 
and every one permitted to come back, but as they came to the gates if 
they had the least sign of dirt or blood on their clothes, or even dirty hands, 
they were allowed to step within the gates only to be shot down like dogs. 
My father chanced to be dressed in white so they passed him in with honor. 
He said there were already about twenty-five men lying in a heap dead. 

"As this was too horrible to live in, my father and mother decided to 
come to America. 

"My mother had a brother who was a general in the Revolution so he 
arranged for them to come at once." 

— Told to Daunita Taylor, Grand-daughter of Mrs. Taylor. 
a^ . 

NANCY WHITE-PRICKETT 

At Deerfield, Randolph County, Indiana, eighty-six years ago, Nancy 
White was born. Her parents moved to near Jalapa, Grant County, when 
phe was twelve years old, so she has lived here in Grant County for seventy- 
four years. 

Her father's farm and Joaquin Miller's father's farm "cornered." She 
rornembers young Miller quite well, for he and her brother were "^-ronies." 
"Miller was just a common kid so far as I could see," she said. "His name 
v/as Heine, but folks called him "Heiner." The name ".Toaauin" must have 
been given him later. I think it must have been about 18.50 that his people 
moved away and I never heard of him any more until he became a noted 
poet." 

When Mrs. Prickett was a little girl she had lots of fun playing "ring- 
around-a-rosy," blind-fold, drop the handkerchief, and other interesting 
grmes. "My mother was as good a mother as ever lived, but father was 
strictpr — he saw to it that I 'toed the mark.' " 

She went to school about two or three month's ev^ry year; never went 
to any teacher except her father, with the excention of summer terms. Hpt 
father made all his pupils goose quill pens. The school house was made 
of roufrh logs; the seats of split logs with pegs for legs. The writing desk 
was a board placed on pegs in the wall; the windows were made of greased 
paper. Her father whipped her once only, at school, but she sometimes 
had to stand on the bench for punishment. "I was not very bad like chil- 
dren are now," she said. 

She had rheumatism when only a child. She slept in the trundle bed 
by herself for fear t>^e other children would hurt her. 

She also had chills and "shaking" ague. When she felt a chill coming 
on she would run outside and gather up trash and start a fire in the fire- 
place and lie down on the floor with her feet toward the fire. After the 
chill was over she would have high fever. 

She was very much afraid of the Indians when they first moved to 
Grant County for she had heard dreadful stories o-*" their cruelty, but she 
soon got used to them and often attended their Sunday meptings in th^ 
old Baptist church. They would give testimony in their own language and 
seemed quite hanpy. Reverend Smith was the white preacher who con- 
verted many of the Indians. 

Old Wau Coon -was their native preacher. Mrs. O. M. Thomas and 
Lillian Prickett (Mrs. Prickett's daughters) were invited to old Wau 
Coon's for Sunday dinner once. And a good dinner it was. consisting of 
fried chicken, sweet potatoes, pie, cake and other "goodies." They were 
treated royally. 

She remembers the election of James K. Polk. This was one of the 
campaign songs; 

"Hurrah for Polk and George M. Dallas: 
The Whigs are going back to the gallows!" 

She heard a lot about the Mexican war. Not many men went from 
their neighborhood except Bill Morehead and Bill Dawson. 

When her parents first came to Grant County t>iey lived ne^r Jalana 
in a log hut. The fireplace had a dirt floor. Once in a long while water 
would rise up in this fireplace and put out the fire. They could not under- 



stand it. 

One time a neighbor, Mrs. Bechtel, was going to see them and had to 
pass through a lonely wood. Midway of this wood she saw a man coming 
toward her. He seemed to be a peacier for lie han a pack on his back. As 
he drew near her he disappeared mysteriously. She was disconcerted and 
afraid and when she got to White's she asked Malinda Fields, a cousin of 
Mrs. Prickett, and a medium, concerning the strange disappearance of the 
man. Malinda said the "spirits" told her this man was Jim Clay, an Indian 
and that he was buried under the floor. He had been shot in the forehead 
and killed, then buried and Whites had built their house over his grave. He 
told Malinda if she would take up his bones and bury them in the White- 
neck cemetery the water would not rise in the fireplace again. 

The neighbors soon heard this story and came over. The floor was 
removed and they dug down about a foot and found a skeleton, an Indian 
blanket and some long hair. Mrs. Prikett tied all this in a rag and buried 
it. The water never raised in the fireplace again. 

Mrs. Prickett does not try to explain this. She simply says she tells 
the solemn truth. This thing occurred over seventy years ago. It was her 
brother James, and Henry Sutton, who took the bones and buried them. 

Mrs. Prickett is remarkably active and bright for one of her age, and 
is very interesting to talk to. 

* 

SHORT HISTORY OF SWAYZEE 
(By Mr. and Mrs. Munea) 

Mr. and Mrs. Munea moved to Swayzee about the 15th of October, 
1885, from Bunker Hill. 

When they moved there were no sidewalks, and when it rain'?d 
and they wanted to go any place, they had to wade through the mud. It 
is said that it was so muddy in Swayzee that a garter snake would mire 
down going across the road. 

There were very few business places in Swayzee then. There was one 
brick building owned by the Plank boys, and one store owned by Mart 
Smith, and also one or two small storerooms. There were also two churches, 
the Methodist and Christian. 

The first railway was the Narrow-gage railroad, the rails being about 
four feet apart. When one rode on that railway they never knew whether 
they would reach their destination or not. 

Swayzee's first great improvement was in 1893 when they built a glass 
house. A brick building was erected later, owned by Mr. Larkin, Mr. Fry 
and Mr. Munea. After that they began to build sidewalks. At first the 
buildings were all brick, later they were built of cement. 

About 1889 the first town council met. Those present were M. D. 
Bish and John Daugherty; Elgin McCorkle was the first clerk and treasurer; 
Jim Mullen was the first marshall. Mr. Munea has served on the town 
board for about twenty-four years. He first served sixteen years, then was 
off for about four years, then served about eight years more. 

The first bank was in 1894, and was the Farmers' Bank. In 1910 it 
was consolidated with the First National Bank. Eliot Cui-tiss started the 
First National Bank. Jimmie Curliss was the cashier. The directors were 
Marion Curtiss, Charley Leer, Meredith Leer, Titus, John Miller and George 
Smith. 

The Farmers' Bank was started by M. J. Lozier, Mr. Daugherty later. 
After he died the directors were Mr. Larkin, Mate Lazier and John Peter- 
son. , , ^ , 

In about 1881 or 1882 they had their first postmaster, John Greenlee. 

There was a mill in one end of the town close to which the vehicles 
were hitched. They drove two-wheeled wagons then drawn by two horses, 
because the mud was so deep. The old mill burned down quite a while ago. 

When Mr. Munea moved to Swayzee he stopped at the old mill and un- 
hitched some of his wagons and made his load lighter because a heavy load 
could not be hauled over such bad roads. Everyone moved in wagons then. 
When they came to Swayzee it was almost all woodland but it was soon 
cleared away. „ , ., .^ , j j 

In 1903 a canning factory was started but after awhile it burned down. 

Mr. Munea is a very pleasant man. He was born in Tippecanoe Coun*:y 



in 1855. He has lived in Swayzee for nearly thirty-five years. 

— Contributed by Esther Cammack. 

* 

MORTON MILES 

"Ikey" Gentis was born in 1844 in Ohio. He came to Grant County 
in 1850. 

The community in which he lived in Ohio was undeveloped but the 
people always sought new opportunit'es and the frontier life appealed to 
them. Mr. Gentis' father, uuon coming to Grant County, to"-pther with 
some other men, cut a road through what is now Swayzee. The ground 
was sv/anipy and even after Swayzee had become a village, water stood 
in the roads most of the year. 

Some of the earlier settlers had cleared a tract of land north of what 
id now Swayzee and although this was three miles from their home the 
Gent's fpi-^ilv rented part of it and farmed it unti^ th"ir own was cleared. 

An interesting fact is that although they settled here in November, it 
was not until tl^e next spring that the Gentis family l?rrned of the village 
of "Slasher," only two miles distant. Some men were taking produce to 
Wabash, the nearest trading post, and the trail that they trav^lod w^nt 
through Jonesboro. but hearing that another trail existed they tried to find 
it and discovered this small village. 

The early settlers consumed large ouantit'e- of g^me. Wolves were 
plentiful but wild hogs caiised more trouble than t^-e w"lvp". 

The nearest grist mill was Somerset. Slasher had two stores at this 
time. 

A mail carrier made a trio each week from Marion through Roseburg, 
Slasher and Greentown to Kokomo. This man was Irish and always rode 
a mule. 

When the Pennsylvania Railroad was bnilt through Marion it brought 
a market nearer the community where the Gent's' l:v:d. Later a narrow 
gauge road was built through Swayzee and Swayzee became a rival of 
Slasher. 

People d'd all tl^eir own work and the chiklr~n thought themselve^^ 
lucky to be allowed three months schooling durin-^ t^''e y^ar. Evp-i tho"^^^ 
the famil'es were separated by dense forests and streams the sound of a 
bell or a horn was sufficient to bring in -^riends in time n^. -i'r^-np-^^ c- tro^'^-^^. 

Mr. Gentis joined a company at Slasher and served in the Civil War 
w'th Georre Steele as his major. He said he was gl'^d that t^e people of 
today could not apprehend the hardships and trials of soldier life at 
that time. 

Land around the home of Mr. Gentis in an e-^rly day sold for one 
dollar and twenty-five cents an acre. Many people l^okod forward to the 
price going higher and so bought a great deal of land. Th^ speculators 
came around each spring and subtracted a small amount and then a road 
tax was made so the "profiteers" really lost a great deal. 



MEMORIES OF MRS. LOUISE NELSON, AGE 82, 

AND MR. M. R. PEARSON, FIRST SETT? ERS 

There has been much discussion as to who the first settlers of Grant 
County were. The records show that John Smith and Ann Thomas were 
the first people married and coming into the county one month after its 
organization. People remember having heard their ancestors say that the 
Malott and Adamson families were the first peonle to enter wi^pt is now 
Hrant County. Samuel Adamson was the first white male child born in 
the county. . , ■, , i • 

TV'e settlers were widely scattered, each settler having to build his 
log cabin of one or more rooms, clear his land, and live among the Indians. 

The s'-ttJers had to drive in a two-horse wagon many miles to reach a 
store. Usually there would be but one store for many miles. Mr. Martin 
Griifin, who lived just across the river east of the Soldiers' Hnme had a 
store. He drove to Cincinnati and bought the groceries for -this'little store. 
He had a grist mill which was run by a large wheel six feet in diameter; he 
also had a saw mill. All these things kept him busy much of the time. 

Just e?st of Mr. Griffin's farm was a snake den. It was one hundred 
and fifty feet from the water (a creek being just below it.) During the heat 



X)f the day the snakes would crawl out on the rocks to sun themselves. In 
the den were all kinds of snakes, mostly the black and yellow rattlers. 
The den was msde < f stonr. It is t^>ld ■hpt M-s. Griffin cr^wie-l into tie den 
one day to see about some traps which he had thrust into it. He found there 
were holes as round as could be and it was as smooth as glass. The den 
was made like a honey-comb. 

Before Mr. Griffin was married the Indians camped above this snake 
den. They had dug- many holes in the ground looking for money they had 
hidden there. At night they paddled out in their c^noe down the river 
and lighted fires. They then put out "deer licks." This was salt for the 
deer and when they came into the light they stood still and the Indians 
killed them. 

Near Jalapa then was an Indian village and another one east of 
Marion rever'"! r-i'p~. Tie''' f v. ^ip . ,-) ■c^^r-- ^ ^c; ^.•^■ll^r.-', t-, fVo on° n-^^r 
Jalapa, and on their way they stopped at Mr. Johnathan Pearson's for 
food. They would come to the door and as they could speak very little 
English, they made signs indicating they wanted food. They always travel- 
ed on ponies. They sat down on their feet while eating and then would 
rnn out and jump on their ponies. They didn't thank nor offer to pay Mr. 
Pearson for the food as they gladly gave it to them. 

Soon more and more people came to the county, each man clearing 
his ground and building their cabins and barns. 

The Penrisylvania Railroad started to build a railroad from Union City 
to Marion, cutting through what is now Pucke+t C'^r.-.otpvv. Ti--^ --.crig the 

— Contributed by Irene Pearson. 

* 

SOME WAR STORIES 
(By Griffith Nelson") 

"I was born May 19th. 1845, in Monroe Townsh'p, Grant County." 

"The day beff^re I enlisted in the army I was threshing at the home 
-of Israel Lucas. This was on Saturday and on Sunday t'-ere was a meeting' 
vt the old 'meeting' house. Some men came out and was calling for volun- 
teers and I enlisted. I was only sixteen when I enlisted and served threcf 
years. 

"I foup-ht -n the battle rt Vickf^rrp-. V^e "--ere i" fonrt'^-- bip- ^'^ttl^s. 
One time we fought twenty-four days without stopping. Was mustered 
out of the army pt Mobile, Alabama, and was discharrj-ed at Indianapolis 
?nd then I carre back to my heme and made my living by ditching, until 
I moved to v/here I live at the present time. First and A streets, Gas City. 
I saw T>retty hard service. 

"At Atlanta, Ga., we fought a hard battle. For sev°n days and nights 
T lived on parched corn. We then marched through Mississippi. Georgia. 
Kentuci y, Alabama and across the corner of Florida. Bob Andrew cam.e 
to me at Yellow Bigs and was pretty near all in. 

"I was then trken prisoner at Montersville, Kentucky, but was prisoner 
only one day and night when I made my escape. 

"This is the way I escaped: I had a folding tin cup, and when it wps 
opened it held a quart. I went to a pond and the water was cvovered with 
dov.(] frogs, m'lles'and leaves. I brushed the trash b?/"k and got my water. 
Pretty soon old Jim Bragg rode up and asked w>-at I'd tfke 'for my cup. 
I said, 'I don't want to sell. 'I'll fill it with brandy,' said old Jim. He filled 
the cup and I drank it. 

"I thought I had the privilege of going where I pleased. Well. T had 
a blanket and a revolver. One guard wasn't going to let me pass and just 
then old Jim Bragg rode up and said, 'Let that little soldier go where he 
pleases.' I passed the guard and I like to swim pretty well so I lumbered 
off toward Green River. I swam across the river and went up hills and 
■hollows. We met some other vagabonds like myself and we went along 
the fields or country where there were no inhabitants, so we ate green 
briars. Once I was getting green briars and got hold of something else 
green. It happened to be a green snake. That broke me of eating green 
briars. 

"Soon we came to where an old man lived. We ate our supper of 
bread and milk and aftei'wards there was to be an apple-peeling. We peeled 
apples and afterward danced until morning; and then the old gentleman 



took us across the Ohio river. From there we went up to New Albany, 
then Indianapolis, where I got my discharge, and then to Wabash. There 
1 met my old neighbors, David Pearson and Gilbert Nelson. 

"While in the army I laid in the hospital seven days and nights with 
measles and pneumonia. The doctors told me I was going to die. I told 
them to give me some lemonade. I went to sleep and when I woke up I 
was sweating like a trooper. I got better and was soon out in the weather 
again. 

"Once we marched through Missouri, making forty-five miles in one 
day. It was so muddy the cavalry couldn't get through. We caught old 
Price in his headquarters and routed him out, following him to Blue River, 
and gave him a whippin'. He went to Texas and another band met him 
there with the cavalry. 

"Another time when we marched through Tennessee 'twas muddy, as 
it usually is, and we plowed up to Nashville. The snow was six inches 
deep and I pulled off my shoes, put on two pairs of sox and went bare- 
footed through it. 

"Once when we went in camp I was walking along and came on to a 
big snake about ten inches in diameter. It wouldn't go in a wash tub. Of 
course I was scared to death so I shot. Up came an officer and said. "Who 
shot?" Not one would tell on me. He came to me and said, "Do you 
know who shot?' "Yes, 'twas me," I said. "Do you know that's against the 
orders?" "Yes," says I, "but look there!" There was that great big snake 
tumbling around on the ground. The officer looked up and said, "I'd have 
shot, too," and walked off. That place was the one where we moved our 
beds so much the bed bugs couldn't catch up with us. 

"Another place where we were camped, an officer rode up on a mule. 
I asked if I could have the mule for a little while. I said that I wanted 
to go and get something to eat. (I never stole before in my life). I went 
out and got a watermelon, about a half bushel of potatoes and a chicken. 

"I got my things together, got on the old mule and started for camp. 
I just got a good start and heard rebels coming. I made the greatest 
retreat ever known in history. The old mule was running and he jumped 
a rail fence. I got across that forty-acre field and behind a woods. I 
thought I was safe then. I turned the old mule around and fired. The first 
thing I knew the bullets were flying thick and fast. My mule went down 
and I thought he was killed. He jumped up and we started for camp again, 
losing no time. 

"Pretty soon we (the old mule and I) met some officers. They asked 
what was the trouble. I told them there were two thousand rebels coming 
after me. He told me I had made a brave fight and asked if I would go 
back with him. It was a pretty hard thing to do because I thought I was al- 
ready shot. I felt something cold and thought it was blood, so I made an 
investigation and found that it was my watermelon bursted while making 
my retreat." — Collected by Irene Pearson. 

* 

MARTIN MONTGOMERY 

Martin Montgomery was born in Ohio, March 26, 1841. He gives the 
following story: , , , 

"We came to Grant County in '54 and I attended a little school by 
the name of Puckett. The house was made of logs, with hewed log benches, 
and greased paper windows. 

"Where the town of Marion is now located was then two-thirds woods. 

"When I was eighteen years old I went to fight in the Civil War. I 
was in the Southern Department, 13th Army Corps and Third Division. I 
was mustered in the army at Indianapolis and was discharged March 
23 1864. 

"In our department there were one hundred that was lost, killed and 

"We did the most of our drilling at Evansville, Indiana, but we didn't 
drill very long as we were at Evansville only three months. 

"Our camps were very poor. Several times we lost our tents and had 
no others. We just 'laid' out like hogs. We 'fit' right along however. 

"We were ordered to stop drilling and go to Fort Donaldson to guard 
the prisoners, We were there three months. 



"In May, 1862, we were called to the front. We went to Kentucky 
and foug'ht John Morgan, the rebel. 

"In the summer of '62 I was taken prisoner (for the first time) at 
Mumfordsville, Kentucky. At this time only sixty-two prisoners were 
taken with me. 

"I was taken prisoner twice and what we had to eat was scarce, in- 
deed. Sometimes we had sweet potatoes, sometimes corn bread mixed up 
and put out We :t was "-^r h^p-c. A.t o^-Vrr tinips we had molasses and corn 
meal made into mush. We ate with splinters of wood, as they did not allow 
us to have knives." 

"One month after being- r^^lpp^^ed we went to the front pg-^'n. W*^ were 
sent down the Mississippi to Vicksburg. I was then in the Battle of Arkan- 
sas Post where I was shot in the leg. 

"After tb's battle we were again ordered to Vicksburg. Onr first 
laattle \yas on t>e Ola, or Black River. We 'fit' s^ven days and nights and 
was whipr)P'-l. W° escaped at night and went to our boats and sailed down 
the Mississippi river. 

"We n^et General Grant, who took command in the next battle at 
Balls' Bluff. We si^rrounded Vicl'sburg and 'fit' Johnson. He retreated 
to Jacksonville, M'ssissiopi. The first stand made by the rebels, we wl^ir)- 
ped them. We followed them and 'fit' in line of march on to Jack=;onvillp, 
where we had a three days' battle and whipped them. We then went back 
to the Ola River an^' closed in on Vicksburg. The seige lasted twentv-"''our 
days and nights. Vicksburg surrendered on the twenty-third day of July, 
and tiivned in their arms July 24, 1863. 

"Almost all the time our food was hardtack, sow-b^lly and beans. Now 
it is called 'Dork and beans.' Sometimes we would have rice, coffee and 
sugar, and at rare int'^rvals we got tea. 

"We had Snrinpfield rifles and cannons to fight with and we 'fit' in 
all kinds of weat^-er. Many a time we 'fit' all day and waded in marshes, 
lakes and rivers." 

* 

HISTORY OF GRANT COUNTY, FROM 1840-1880 
CM- M. H-wk-nO 
At this time the conrt hoi^se wPs a two-=tory br^ck b"ilding wit^ the 
court room on the se'^ond flo-^r and the oflRces w^re on the first floor. Thevp 
were no accommorlations in the court house and they didn't even have coal- 
oil lamns. In the country they used f^r a lamp a s.-^'icer w^^ich had s'^mf 
sort of oil in it and then a wick was held in the oil or tallow that they 
"burned. 

CpT^^-e^ Blinn h'^d the fivc:t manu^'actnving e-tablichment in M^rinn 
bpsirles the brick making establish^ient and he manufactured eart^'^nware 
out of clay. The pottery shop, as it was called, was located where Kelley's 
store now stands. 

William Gregg was the town shoemaker and he made the shoes out of 
the wi^^le leather, iust as it came from the tan-vard. 

Thpve was a tan-yard on the southeast corner of First and Boots streets 
orirl crioth'^r on the northeast side of the square, or about down where the 
Leader-Tribune office is now. 

Where t^e sh^e factory is on the south of Branson street bridee. or a 
little back of that, it was "all a swamp and there was a nond about half 
way between Fir^^t and Second str"et« on down to the riv^r. 

James Sweetser built the first sidewalk out of flae-stone and he also 
bnilt tl^e first brick sidewalk. The roads or streets were then iust like the 
mud roads in the country. There was only one bridge over the river and 
that was on Washington street. It was made of lop-s with nosts sunk down 
in the river under the bridge and they were propped on both sides by other 
logs to hold it un. , „ , t^, ^, 

The town of Marion at this time run from about Tenth or Eleventh 
ctveets to the river hut the houses were verv much scattered in t^e south 
nart. East and west it run from Branson to Boots and on either side it was 
wood^ and fields. 

Where the swamn was between the river and Second street there was 
a saw mill and a card machine. . . 

There were four churches in Marion then, the Methodist, Christian. 



Presbyterian and W-?ieyan Msthodist on South Washington street, whfch 
was called the "Hog-Eye" church because it was built up off the ground and 
as the hog-cs ran arovnd over town at their own will they got to sleeping- 
under the church of nights and gave it this name. 

Tie i'St two newspa'^ers in Marion were the Marion Democratic Herald 
and t^e Marion Telegraph, a Renublican paper. 

The water works and fire department were established in about 1877 
and it wrs introduced by Samuel Hully at a council meeting. 

Tb" telephone system was introduced about 1880 or 1882 and it was 
under tie management of John Anderson and at the end of the first year 
t';ere w?r<5 ssveiite-^n instruments in use in Marion. 

At this time Me-Shin-Go-Me-Sia was chief of all the Indians around 
Jalapa or the Indian Reserve District. They used to come to Marion on 
rcnfes in single file with the'r chief at tbe head of the line and next came 
fi'e warriors then the snuaws with their napooses on their backs and then 
the little Indian boys and girls came last. Sometimes when they would com? 
to Marion they would give a war whoop when they had arrived. They in- 
terested the children very much because they wore such funny looking 
flothrs and the women with their bright colored shawls and papooses on 
their backs made quite an interesting line of pe'^nle. 

— Information from H. Z. Blinn. 

Of. 

MRS. LOUISA BENSON 

Mrs. Benson was born September 25, 1847, about one and one-half 
miles west of Banquo, in Huntington County, Indiana. 

Later she, with her parents, moved to Grant County, Indiana. 

She told the following story: 

"The early settlers had to cut down trees for space enough to build 
their house upon. Their cabins were made of logs, hewed out so they 
could he piled upon one another for the siding. Clay or mud was used 
for filling between the logs to keep out the cold. In one side of the room 
w^s a fireplace which was made from poles and mud before brick was used. 
When the fire went out people had to go to the ne'ghbors and borrow a 
shovel of fire, for no one had matches. The cabins also had puncheon floors, 
made by splitting logs in two and turning the bai-k downward, leaving the 
sn-'-^oth si'^e to walk on. The floors were scrubbed white and kent clean by 
a broom known as the 'split' broom. This was made by hand out of a 
hickory pole. 

"Before men began to clear the land much they had to blaze the trees 
so people would not get lost as they traveled throusrh the forests. They 
did this by splitting a strip of bark off a tree every little while. 

"The Indians in this part of t^e country v^ere not barbarous. They 
traveled through the country hunting for wild game, but they never 
harmed anyone. 

"When the country began to be more thickly settled, the men began 
to cut down trees so they could have the land to cultivate. When they got 
the forests cleared they piled the logs and left them to 'cure,' as they 
called it, then burned them to get them out of the way. 

"The people at this time wore linen and woolen clothing. Sheets, pil- 
low cases and linen dresses were made from the flax. 

"After the sheep were sheared the wool was washed and picked ready 
for the carder, who made it into rolls, then it was spun into yarn, tlien 
colored, after which it could be woven into flannel and linsy." 

Mrs. Benson is now seventy-four years old. She lives with her chil- 
dren and grandchildren, as her husband is dead. 

— Mamie Cramer. 

* 

CRANE POND 

The Crane Pond does not have a name distinguished enough to enable 
one to get the correct idea of it. It was more like a large marsh or jungle. 
This pond might well have been named "Mosquito Marsh" as most every one 
remembers that unpleasant part of it. It was especially noted for its cranes. 

This pond extended about one and a third by three-fourths mile, situ- 
ated approximately two miles west of the present site of the Malleable 
Iron Works. It was surrounded by a forest and was a very distitute place. 



It was inhabited by cranes, fish, frogs, possums, skunks and insects without 
number, namely the various biting insects such as mosquitos. Indeed the 
mosquitos were so thick and numerous that the custom was, when one went 
blackberrying in the swamp to put on a very wide straw hat, draw over 
the hat and around his shoulders a mosquito net, tied around the neck 
with a string, then put on gloves that reached beyond the sleeves so as to 
insure himself from mosquito bites. One can imagine such a sport. 

The plant life was very complex and probably as near a jungle as most 
of us have seen. It was thick with bushes and trees growing in wildest 
profusion. The trees, when they fell, were allowed to remain, thus forming 
a means of walking through the pond. At times the pond was almost dry, 
what one might call a swamp, and at other tim.es water "deep enough to 
swim a horse," as the expression ran. The elm, maple and buttonwood grew 
there and nearly every kind of bush. The weeds grew from ten to twelve 
leet tall. 

At that time the land was practically worthless but now forms some of 
Grant County's richest soil. 

Some very gruesome and interesting tales are told concerning the 
Crane Pond; one being that of Paddy Chase and his son who had taken 
their horses to pasture over by the river near Jalapa. They were returning 
with the bridles and in the evening wandered into the thicket and swamp. 
They were lost in the thicket all night with no food or drink. They became 
exhausted and probably fainted. They were found the next day uncon- 
scious, eyes swollen and overcome by mosquitos and other insects. The 
son revived and lived but the father died as he was bitten and poisoned 
bpyoiid recovery. 

Another time a horse got into a muddy part of the pond as large as 
the ground on which a house stands. Just its head was above the mud hole. 
Help was sent for. It was impossible for men to extricate the horse with- 
out endangering their own lives. The horse floundered around and finally 
was killed'by being hit on the head with the blunt end of an axe. The body 
of the dead horse sunk and was left in the swamp. His bones are probably 
there yet — Loreen Leamon. 

* 

JAMES KIRBY, 92 YEARS OF AGE, 35TH AND HAYMAKER STREETS 
(COLORED) 

James Kirby was born in Bourbon County, "Kanetucky," ninety-four 
years ago. , , , , , , , 

He was a slave for thirty-four years; was put on the block and sold 
like a horse. Three times was he sold. 

"My father was a white man and treated me like a dog. He, nor his 
family, ever would recognize me as his child. I was whipped with a raw- 
hide many times for little things that did not matter. Sometimes because 
I did not eat fast enough. , . , -xi 

One time my grandfather (my father's father) whipped me with 
THONGS. This was the crime I committed: I went out to hunt one Sun- 
day morning and treed a rabbit in a holler ash tree. I burned the tree to 
chase the rabbit out and my grandfather was angry about it and whipped 
me with thongs. , ^ . u mt. 

My father died with "yaller" fever when I was nine years old. Ihe 
only one of his people that treated me right was his brother. Enoch, a real 
Methodist. He was the only master I ever had that treated me kindly. 
If he is not in heaven there won't be any whites there. _ 

I didn't always have enough to eat. What I did have was hominy, fat 
meat and potatoes, and sometimes on Sunday morning I would get ONE egg 
and a biscuit. Think of it— one egg! , ,., • -u.. t+ 

I wore a flax shirt in summer that hung down like a night gown. It 
scratched me for it was "sticky." 

I was in the Civil War for two years, eight months and eleven days. 
I was thirty-four years old when I went in. My captain was Captain Chat- 
field. I get a pension of $50 a month now. ,...., 4. j 4-1, 

At one time I was sold South to Nachez, Mississippi. I stayed there 
six years then came back and found my wife. She got down on her knees 
and plead that I be not sold again. ..0*1, Tr,^;o,,a 

After the war I came across the Ohio river into Southern Indiana 



and bought me nireteen acres of land. I stayed there until my wife died' 
then I came to Kokomo, Howard County. Kokomo is the best town any- 
where. Did you ever trade with Walter Davis? 

I came over to Marion to get this ole woman. She won't go back to 
Kokomo. 

I'm glad I've lived; I'm glad God Almighty has let me live as long 
as Ee has. I want to live one more year so I can get my little place paid 
for, then I'm ready to go. I pray every day for God to keep me good. I'm 
going to a better world sometime. Doing the best I can to get there. I 
can't read nor write, but all is w^'l." 

— . aj, 

ISAAC GENTIS 

"My father came to Marion in 1832. I was born in 1860. 

"Marion was quite small when I first remember it. The north corpora- 
tion line reached to Bradford street, while South Marion extended no 
farther than 15th or 16th street. 

"Branson street was named for old David Branson; McClure street for 
'Sammy' McClure. and Boots street for Martin Boots. I t is said there is no 
other Boots street in the world. Spencer Avenue was then only a grove, 
and where the present High School stands was a picnic ground, while South 
Marion was pasture land. 

"We boys liked to go hunting. It was the height of our ambition to 
own a gun. We fished in the river close to where the Rutenber Motor now 
stands. 

"If we wanted a sled or a wagon we had to make them. The wheels 
of our wagon were made of solid wood, sawed from a round log, and the 
body of the wagon was a box. 

"Girls stayed at home and spun and helped their mothers with the work. 

"The court house yard was full of trees. The band would sometimes 
play there, which delighted the young folks very much. 

"The jail wa^ a little log house north of the present post-office. 

"The Indian Reservation was out at Conner's Mill. I have often 
watched them come, single file, to Sam McClure's store, close to Cubberley's 
cigar store. They were half civilized and took the 'trail' from Jalapa to 
Marion along the river. 

"The Spencer House was a three-story brick building. Across the alley 
was a barn, where horses were kept to accommodate travelers. My friend 
and I drove cattle for Mr. Spencer from his farm to this barn. 

"In the basement of the Spencer House was a barber shop; under the 
office was a saloon called the 'Snake Hole,' because there was a snake, 
painted red, to finish the railing. 

"There was just one colored family in town them, named . He 

had the barber shop in the Spencer basement and got pretty well-to-do. 

"The colored folks out in Liberty and Franklin Townships used to hold 
'camp meetings.' They would sing lustily, the preacher would preach a 
weird sermon, then they would sing again. We boys went out to hear them 
and to see what they did. 

The Pennsylvania Railroad was put through m 1867. When it was 
completed everybody got a free ride. 

"When I was thirteen years old there was an awful storm. I remem- 
ber there were trees blown down across the path when I drove cattle out 
to 17th street for pasturage. 

"The first gas well was dug in Marion on 15th street; the second was 
in Johnstown, and the third in North Marion. People would come for miles 
to see these 'gushers' and thought them wonderful. 

"Years ago Messrs. Hogin and McKinney played on a baseball team 
called the Red Sox. They were star players. 

"But times have changed much since then." 

* 

THOMAS CULBERTSON (AGE 79) 
"I was born March 29, 1842, in Ohio. 

"I came to Grant County in '51 from Ohio, when I was nine years old. 
When I came here David Hogin and Bob McKinney had a store where the 
Merritt drug store now stands. I remember we got some groceries and 
things there when we came through. When I was a boy one could go sev- 



1440863 

'eral miles without seeing a house, and then only see little lo.^ cabins, most 
of them having only one room and a 'lean-to.' The lean-fo was simply 
boards laid up against the main part of the house. It was usually used as 
a place in which to cook the meals. Most of the hou-e- had holly growing 
all around them. Sometimes they grew to such height that one could 
barely see the house itself. 

"Of course there ^^eren't many fences then, and the cattle and hogs 
all run loose. The land was almost all swamp in the s^r"ng of t^^e year. 
When the roads were especially muddy all the men in the neighborhood 
would have a 'get-to-gether' meeting and fix the roads. Tre^s were cit 
down and trimmed and then laid cross-ways along the road. This was called 
a cordrroy road." 

Here Mr. Culbertson paused as if thinking, stroking the Angora kitten 
all the while. 

Finally he chuckled to himself and at la?t s-'id- ""^o" i-n-w f^^rp. %vos 
vpi-y Utfe cleared land then. My father had two good-sized fields just north 
of the h'^pe. 0'>''e e''en'ng I w-^'it ovr to the ild shoemak'^'r's jupt ^fir-ri^, 
the two fields and on in the woods a piece, to get my shoe fixed. As I was 
coming hcm.e it was just about dusk and I thought I he-=rd s'^met^ing be- 
h'nrl rn". I looked, but did not see anything, so I went on. Finally I got 
to the fence between the M'oods and my father's clearing and climbe'^' u-^on 
the post to reft. I heard the noise again, this time getting closer. By this 
ti-^p I was d^t^rminei it was a be^r. I no soine-^ ^ad^ this decision than 
1 jumped off the post and ran. It seemed to m.e that it was m.iles across 
thnoe fields. I believe I stumbled over every stump on t^e way. I n'^t 
only imagined I heard the bear growl, bi^t almost imagined I felt his br-^ath 
on me. The ne-^t morning I went squirrel hunt'ng but was not crone I'^'ng 
when my attention was attracted by my dog barkins-. Looking up I saw the 
same old bear watching me from behind a clump of tr"es." 

"That re-minds me." he went on, "of a neighbor boy of mine. Fe went 
hunting wit^ his dog and stenned upon a log. A. g^-eat blac'- b^ar jumped 
un, api^arrrtly from nowhere, and made a grab for t'-"e dog. Of f0"rso. \ia 
hugged the dog to death. The boy ran, but if it had been me I'd of killed 
thst b'-ar." 

"What other kinds of animals were there in the woods at that time?" 
I asked. 

"Well, there weren't many other dangerous ones, except snakes. I 
remember when I was ten or eleven years old, my two older cousins and I 
Avere hunting May apples. My uncle had recently clpafed some land and 
great piles of brn-^h were lying around. It was under these niles of brush 
that the May anples v/ere abundant. As I was smaller than the other boys 
and could crawl under the brush piles easier than they, they let me get 
those while they looked around for them in other places. 

"Just as I was petting out I looked up and saw a black snak^ coiled 
'round and 'round, his head about three feet from the ground. I called 
the b^^ys and as soon as they could get over to me. in-^tead of =>'ootine it. 
t^ey began quarreling as to who should shoot it. One had a rifle and the 
other a shot gun and both thought he should havp thp honor of killing 
the snake. You see the kids then weren't any differeii- than t^-'ev are n^w. 
They always have fu?sed and always will. Finally the one with the shot 
gun shot and blew off the snake's' head. My! that snake lashed around 
v'orse than a hor'^e could have done. One of the bny^. had a two-foot rule 
in his pocket, and as soon as we could straighten the snake out T measured 
it. It measured something over twelve feet and doubfe-s would have b°en 
lon;3'er if we could have gotten it straightened out. That was the largest 
snake T ever saw. 

"I r-^member the first sewing machine in the n'^i<rhborhood." he w^nt 
on. "One of our neighbors had it." Here Mr. Culbert<=on chuckled to him- 
self. "I can remember, too, how old man Smith would snddlp hi'; hov'^e 
and ride to town, grumbling all the time about 'how much thread them n'^w- 
^'angled sFwin' m^^cl-^ines take ' Then everybody, of course, rode horseback. 
They would put their lunch in the saddle-bags and soniptinips lenve earlv in 
the mornine- for town. That evenine they would r'-t'irn with their saddle- 
bags full of groceries. The saddle-bags would hold about as much as a 



bushel basket I expect. Sometimes a person going to town would bring 
the mail for the neighbors for miles around. Even at that the mail would 
consist of a couple of letters and probably a paper. It was a rare event 
in our family to get a letter. 

"When we came from Ohio, me and Becky, my sister, could out-snell 
anyone in the whole school, but when we came hpre the books were differ- 
ent and I haven't been good at spellin' since. They used to go 'round to 
each house to see how many parents would let their children go to school. 
Each parent agreed to pay so much for each child for the teacher's salary, 
and if the teacher did not live close they agreed to keep him for a certain 
length of time, usually a week or two." 

"How did you get a doctor when you needed one?" I asked, hoping his 
interesting story would continue for an indefinite time. "Well, there wasn't 
so much sickness then (except typhoid) as there is now. because every- 
one was out in the open most of the time and if a person did take cold the 
women folks knew what to do to ward off pneumonia or anything serious. 
Now a person can't sneeze but what he has the doctor. People did n^t 
eat so much candy and nick-nacks then as they do now, either. When it 
was necessary to have a doctor the doctor went on horseback as close to the 
house as he could and if it was winter and the roads were bad he would 
tie the horse and walk the rest of the way. I don't suppose you ever seen 
the toll-gates, did you?" he asked. 

"No, tell me about them, please," I replied. 

"There used to be one up at the top of the n^xt hill on Wabash pike," 
he said, "close to the stone quarry. A Mr. and Mrs. Smith used to run it. 
They had a couple of good-sized posts, one on either side of the road, and 
a pole on one side fixed so that by pulling a rope it would lay down across 
the road 'till they paid their toll. The charge was usually about one cent 
per mile for one horse, wagon and the like. They charged a little more 
for heavy wagons. Some people would go a mile out of their way through 
the woods to keep from paying toll. I can see Smith yet running out to 
head 'em off." 

At this time I saw his daughters coming home for supper and as we 
had been talking for more than an hour I bade h!m goodbye and gladly 
promised at his request to come again soon that he mifrht tell me more. 

— Told to Cleo Harter. 

* 

MIRANDA REAVIS-FENSTERMAKER 

"I have lived in Grant County all my life. Was born October 2, 
1850, near Marion. My parents were Reverend and Mrs. Reavis. 

"I had a harder time to get an education than most children today. I 
have 'cooned' fences with rushing water beneath; have waded snow that 
was so deep I could scarcely get through. We played 'blackman,' 'dare- 
baste' and 'drop the handkerchief' and had good times, however. The seats 
were so high that our feet dangled until we grew to fit the seat. 

"Our parties were different, too. We did not have party dresses as 
girls do now. We had to work at something like bean-shelling, apple 
paring, or corn husking. What would girls think of that today? 

If the church was not too far away we would walk, but if farther 
away we rode horseback or in a big wagon. 

"We wore home-made flannel in the winter, spun all our own wool, and 
knit our stockings. In summer we wore calico or lawn, and in spring and 
fall we wore half wool and cotton goods. 

"The pioneers used wooden ploughs and cut wheat with a cradle. They 
put the hay in shocks, tied a rope around them and dragged them to the 
stack with a horse. 

"We used hickory bark for torches or lanterns made of tin with 
candles inside. 

"In case of sickness the neighbors would do all in their power. Nurses 
v/ere scarcely heard of. In case of death the friends of the family would 
'sit up' at night, but in those days the body was buried the next day or 
even the same day. 

"We baked corn bread, made apple butter and pumpkin butter. Some- 
times we cooked before the fire and sometimes in big kettles over a fire. 

"O, those were the good old days!" 



HOGS IN EARLY TIMES 

There was no available kimber for iencing in Grant County when the 
early settiers first arrived nere, so they let tneir hogs run wild, which made 
them very hard to catch. They could catch them either by shooting them 
at close range or by making a trap out of heavy logs with a sliding door. 
This trap was then taken far into the woods, a line of corn scattered to 
the door. The hogs seeing the corn and being hungry, would soon he in 
tie trap. The trt<.p door was then closed, there being men there ready to 
kill and dress the hogs. 

* 

DRIVIJNiG W.LD HOGS TO MARKET 

Wabash or Anderson in the early history of Grant County were the 
clofest railroad stations, xie wild hogs were driven to either of the two 
stations. 

One old gentleman says he spent six days helping drive one thousand 
hogs, and the third brought up the teams and wagons. 

When a hog gave out he was put into a fence corner and shut in by 
logs. Tie men tnv.s got the hogs and loaded them in the wagons. The 
men alw?,ys were up very eai'ly feeding and watering the drove. The fore- 
man v/ent ahead engaging places "or the men to eat and sleep. 

THE DEADENING OF TREES 

The early settlers went to the woods, marked out their pieces of 
grounu, cut notches all around the tree, killing the sap of the tree and 
fif^ally the t'ee itself so they could have a corn field. This was called 
'"deadening." Men with sharp axes cut the fallen trees into large logs. 
Thpse log- were placed in the open then burned. There was always a great 
social gathering at these "deadenings," and all the neighborhood was in- 
vited to them. 

— * 

MRS. WEISER'S STORY 

We moved to Marion, Ind., about 1860 from Ohio. We rode part of 
the way on a wagon and walked the rest of the way. 

Marion at that time was a small place. From the Pennsylvania rail- 
road to the hill on Washington street there was a board walk. From 15th 
street on to the hill it was all marshy. This- was said to be the old river 
bed. On the corner of 16th and Branson stood the Quaker church. School 
was held in it during the week. 

I remember v\'hen the first train came through Marion on the Pennsyl- 
vania. Everybody went to see it go through. After that every time the 
children heard a train whi?tle they would run out of school and the school- 
master would run after them with a whip, but they paid no attention to 
iiis commiands to go back into school. 

When the government bought the land near Marion from the Indians, 
all of them bought whiskey with their money and the squaws got high black 
silk hats which they wore with great pride. 

— Contributed by Maurine Aldrich. 

. ^ . 

GRANDFATHER'S STORIES— A HAUNTED HOUSE 

On the county line, between Grant and Miami counties, there stands 
a house which was said about thirty years ago to be haunted. The family 
living in the house declared that at night they could hear sti'ange I'appings 
and supposed they were made by "ghosts." 

One dark and stormy night the mysterious noises were so frequent that 
the occupants could not sleep. Finally they dressed and walked a mile to 
a neighbor's house where they spent the rest of the night. After this the 
family would live in the house no longer, so they moved. 

Mr. M., who lived near the house, declared he did not believe in ghosts 
and said he would move into the place to prove his statement. 

For several weeks nothing happened and then one stormy night the 
rappings were resumed. Mr. M., of course, was awakened and after listen- 
ing to the strange noises, dressed and investigated. The sounds seemed to 
come from the south side of the sitting-room, but nothing was revealed 
^'hich might have caused the disturbance. Mr. M. went back to^ bed, but 
slept no more that night. 



The next morning he examined the outside of the house and, as the 
wind was still blowing, discovered the cause of the former occupants' 
sleepless nights. A lightning rod had been cut off about six feet from the 
ground and when the wind blew this caused the rod to scrape against the 
house. 

^ 

NATHAN HILL 
At the close of the day we motored over the hills to Jonesboro to have 
a little conference with one of its ancient citizens, Nathan Hill, aged 82 
years. He has been a resident of the county all his life, having been born 
one and one-half miles south of Jonesboro. He has been a farmer, having 
cleared about forty acres of his land. 

When a child he remembers the Indians,' though not many lived in 
that part of the county. He has seen as many as a dozen at one time in 
his father's orchard. They stopped to get peaches, then they would go on. 
They talked but little for they could not be understood. 

"Yes, I know about the 'underground railroad' system, for my father, 
Aaron Hill, kept a station. The run-away slaves came from Anderson to 
my father's home, then on to Mose Bradford's home at Marion, then on 
to Wabash. 

"I remember how stealthily the slaves would approach our house for 
fear they had not found the right station and would be detected. They 
would look about very carefully to find the 'signs' they had been told to 
look for. Quite often they came at night so as to me?t few people on the 
road. We would keep them over until the next night then send them 
on to the next station. 

"They would eat heartily anything that was set before them. They 
were often well armed and v/ould have died before they would have gone 
back into slavery. They often told about their life in the South while in 
slavery. 

"The oofficials never bothered us about the slaves, but they nearly 
got Mose Bradford a few times. One man who suspected that Bradford 
was shielding a runaway, asked him if he might see his slave. Bradford 
said 'yes, if you give him a dollar.' The man ouickly took Bradford un on 
that proposition, thinking he had caught him at last. 'Now,' said Biadford, 
'if you ever chirp about this, I'll have you arrested for assisting a runaway 
slave. You have paid a dollar to a fugitive.' 

"Some slaves were very poorly dressed and showed the hardships 
through which they had passed. We always hid them in our loft. 

"I voted for Abe Lincoln the first time I voted. I have never voted 
for a Democrat — Have boen a consistent Quaker." 

When Vv'e asked this fine old man if he thought the vv^orld was getting 
better or worse, he was somewhat guarded in his rephi: "It's hard to tell; 
there =eems to be more wickedness, but it may be because there are more 
people." 

He said that living right was the surest way to succeed. 

— * ■ 

MINERVA BAL^'W.'N-FMITJ-' 
Minerva Baldwin was born Aug. 4th, 1864, at Fairmount. Her father 
built the first house in Fairmount and kept store there for several years. 
He helped to lay out the town. He bought his first stock of goods of 
Thomas Jay, of Jonesboro. 

Her mother's father was David Stanfield. He was also quite an early 
settler in Fairmount. They wanted to name the town for him, but he 
didn't want it named Stanfield, but Fairmount, so it was so named, although 
at first they called it "Pucker." 

Her father and his family came from Richmond, Indiana, in covered 
wagons. On the way thep stopped over night at her uncle's. They slept 
upstairs on a pallet. Her father wakened and saw the stars falling — the 
fearful night of 1833. He hastily awakened the other folks and they all 
prayed and cried aloud, for they thought the end of the world had come. 

When she was thirteen years of age her father sold his farm at Fair- 
mount and bought one in West IMarion, and she has lived there ever since. 
Her present home is at Twenty-sixth and Valley Avenue. 

She married Leander Smith. His father and mother took out the 



firrt nwri.^pe ]icen?e ever is-jed in Marion. It was for John Smith an^l M?-. 
Ann Thomas. " ' " 

As a child she did not care much for a doll, but would ride about on 
a stick. She liked to be out of doors, 

^"^ * j"^-^ ^^^ mother was making garden and gave her a bit of ground. 
She planted it m beans and waited impatiently for them to come up. When 
they did ocme up she thought something was wrong, so she took them and 
buried, or planted, them again. Her friends never forgot this joke. Years 
aftervvard when she was planting her garden her cousin came along and 
said: Minerva, thee be careful how thee plants beans." 

She remembers the Indians, how they would come past her father's 
house on horseback, single file. One time her mother bought enough RED 
calico of them to make her (Minerva) a little bonnet, and paid for it with 
beans. She was very proud of it but lost it one day while playing in the 
wood.c. She cri^d as if her heart were brol'en. 

She remembers hearing her mother-in-law, Mrs. Smith, tell that down 
near Richmond the Indians would strap their dead pappooses on to the limb 
of a tree, away up high, so no animal could get to them. 

The Quakers were the first denomination to build churches in Grant 
County. She remembers when they held their quarterly meetings at Back 
Creek. When they were ready to transact business the one presiding would 
say: "We Avill now close shutters." 

Mrs. Smith says to be successful, one should do right — be honest, kind 
and helpful to those who need assistance. "I have always tried to do this," 
said this faithful old Quaker mother. She is a niece of the old Lydia Bald- 
win, whose autobiography also appears in this book. 

—^ 

A BURIAL !N EARLY DAYS 

The following description of a pioneer burial is given by Mr. Isaiah 
Wall, born in Monroe township, seventy-six years ago. 

"If any one got sick in those early days someone had to go on horse- 
back for the doctor; the doctor, in turn, would come to the house on horse- 
back to see the patient. Often the primitive remedy administered saved 
the life of the sick one; sometimes death resulted. 

The corpse was not embalmed but friends would keep cloths wet with 
camphor over the face. Of course the body could not be kent long; usually 
over night. Neighbors would come to stay with the family and attend to 
the body. 

"When the person first died he was laid on a 'cooling board' until the 
coffin was made. Some one would take the measure of the body, then take 
the order to a cabinet maker or a carpenter, if there were no cabinet maker, 
who would make the coffin of walnut or oak. 

"The dead was carried in a two-horse wagon to the graveyard; a pro- 
cession of friends followed in wagons, for the whole neighborhood would 
go to a funeral. People were very kind in those days and much sympathy 
was shown. Friends always volunteered to dig the grave and when the 
body arrived they would take the lines from the harness and let the coffin 
down into the grave. They never had the extra box in those days. The 
undertaker did not go to the cemetery for his services were not needed. 

If a child died it was nearly always buried in white; if an adult, friends 
made a shroud of black material. Sometimes the individual was buried in 
his "good clothes" that he had worn while living. 

Sometimes the funeral service was not held for months after the per- 
son died for they could not procure a preacher until the circuit rider of that 
district made his round. When these preachers did preach the funeral they 
usually told the truth about the life of the individual. 

Mr. Wall said his parents came to Monroe Township, Grant County, in 
1837 from Clinton County, Ohio. His father entered the land from the 
government, went to Fort Wayne on horseback to transact the necessary 
business and carried his silver dollars in the saddle bags. 

Nearly all the old settlers in Monroe Township came from Clinton and 
Highland counties, Ohio, among them being Jenkins, Leonard, Dwiggins, 
Strange, Wickersham, Hults and Lundy. 

Samuel Adamson was the first child born in Monroe Toownship. 

Mr. Wall says when he was just a little fellow his father and he took 



p frri'^t down to C-inrer's Mill ore sV'ow day. Oii tlr^ way fney met a long: 

]'re rf Tr>d"ans eoin.a: sin<rle -^-le ti f^e pItow at M-rion. T^-''^ \n^,r,^vp, were 

fr.T-y'n'T th^ir raTnocses on their backs; they wore bri.eht colored ?haw]s or 

>'-■ «^^Q•. M^. W?'^ was afrfi-'d of then'' P'ld wei"e p^^^d w^en they were past. 

Wr. Wall has been a very successful farmer all his life. Is Vnown for 
h-s h"'>h FeiT^e of honor and' justice: at present is living on West Third 
street. J^il^'rion. Ind. 

MINERVA M. THOMAS 

Minerva Thomas was born November ?.Oth, 1840, six miles south of 
Marion, and has lived in Grant County all her li+'e. 

Mr?. Thomas went to the school located where Deer Creek crosses the 
Sand Pike. It was one of the first school houses built in Grant County. 
It had the slab benches and the "writing board" around the wall, but in 
her day it had a b'g box stove, instead of a fireplace. 

The children used the writing board for writing only, for their other 
lessons must be gotten "in the head" with no writing done. They usually 
studied silently except when it came "turns" for spelling, when «ach puoil 
studied out loud, probably each with a different word. "Sometimes we got 
H little mixed up, but we generally knew our lessons. On Friday afternoon 
--0 h; ri .,, J. c~gi]>p- i-,..f^i^ f-ri,' ,- p Innken '' - ^^ o-,.,. |^ f ". • t -^k i he r'^y for 
fun. One day my teacher gave me some words too hard for me so she put 
m.e back into the '?, b, c' cbss to le?rn to snell s'ich woros as a-b, ab, etc. 
She let me leave the room so I could sti^dy alone, and T said mv words 
over and over so I would know them. When I went back into the room 
everybody laughed, even the teacher, and I was bored to death." 

"When recess came we played ante-over and 'teetered' on stumps. 

"There was one mischevious girl who was always making us laugh. The 
teacher had whipped her without avail, so one day when she was up to her 
old tricks, he decided on a different punishment. The great box stove had 
no fire in it so he put her in it. But she wa=: not dpunted. Rhe round some 
straw that had been placed in the stove and took a single straw and poked 
it in and out at a hole in the stove. The children neavly died laughing and 
^Vp i^o^^'por finally fo''".-! ot^ ^^^'-nf pVo ,^,-0-, '-^ng;, but he wa* pt ris ropes 
end — he let her go without further punishment. 

"When we pupils finished the 'fifth reader' we were done with our 
schooling for there was no such thing as graduation." 

Her father's home was a "station" of the "underground railroad." One 
time he kept some slaves secreted through the day, so when dusk came he 
sent her alone, a child only four or five years old, with the slaves to their 
neighbors, Allen Aliens or another neighbor, Nathan Coggeshells. They took 
the slaves to Mt. Etna where there was another "?tation." 

At one time while passing over the underground railroad near her 
home, a slave mother gave birth to a little babe. Mrs. Thomas' mother 
took her, a tiny child, to see the little black baby, but she was afraid of it 
and would not nurse it, but she often played with the other little pickanin- 
nies. 

She also remembers a band of the Miami Indians who lived in wig- 
wams on the Orphans' Home hill. They would often visit at her father's 
house but would never take any food. They would take everything that 
was left and put it into a pouch which hung from their belts. 

One time the Friends arranged with the Indians to meet them for a 
religious service. There was a mistake made concerning the hour of meet- 
ing and the Indians came an hour sooner than the Friends. When the 
Friends arrived they found the Indians leaving. They tri^d to coax the 
Indians to remain, but on no condition would they stay — "You fool Indian 
once, you no fool him again." And the Friends never could make an ap- 
pointment with those Indians again. 

The mosquitoes were very bad in an early day. When people went 
to milk they would take cobs or chips and start a fire so the smoke would 
drive the mos'^i"'itoe« 5»'vnv. 

One time the old man Ferguson and his little grandson and their dog 
started to go somewhere. They had to go through a swamp and the old 
man fell in and died. The boy and dog wandered about completely lost. 
The neighbors scoured the country for three days and finally found them, 
but the "mosquitoes had nearly eaten the face of the poor boy. 



A girl got lost in the woods where North Marion now is located. She 
had no idea which way to go, but she heard a cow bell and followed the 
sound until she found the cow. She held to the cow's bell strap all night 
for she knew in the morning the owner would come for the cow. This he did 
and she found he was one of their neighbors, so she was rescued. 

There was much game in the forest. When the hunter wanted a turkey 
he would take a quill and call a gobbler. By and by the gobbler would 
answer and come up, then the hunter shot him. Then with their hounds 
they would "trail" a coon or opposum. 

"Once when I was real young father brought home four oppossums. 
We children thought they were dead they were so quiet, but father said 
he would prove that they were not dead, so he tied their tails together, 
hung them over the clothes line, and put fire to their noses. We soon saw 
they were alive. 

One morning when her father got up he saw two deer standing on the 
door step, but when they heard him they sped away like lightning, before 
the dogs could get them. 

One of their neighbors, Mr. Freeman, killed a bear and dressed it and 
divided the meat with his friends. "My father got a portion and when I 
put a bite into my mouth I chewed and chewed it but the more I chewed 
the bigger it got. So I never cared for bear meat afterward." 

One time a preacher came to the neighborhood to preach. While there 
someone killed a wild turkey and fixed the wings and tail so when he left 
the community they decorated him with turkey feathers. Off he went, 
clear to Richmond, with the wings and tail of that turkey attached to his 
Clothes. 

Marion's first jail was located near where Wabash Pike and Spencer 
Avenue join, near the river. When the jail was new they put a fellow in. 
His wife wanted l-im c^t po s' e piin-p' m s-^^e f> "^ O'-^-^ to '^•->i. This 
ate the hinges of the door so he could break the door down and escape. 
This little note he placed where the keeper could find it: 

"Acquafortis — ignam vitae — I am gone, so now good nightae." 

Then he took the jail door and threw it into the river, and the next 
day he came ri 'in"- by on a I'^ad o wo vl so t'-e nenr)i<^ ---^M s'*^ *^im. 

In an early day there was a white woman who married a negro. This 
was against the law so they brought the case to trial. "She has no negro 
blood in her veins," was the plea, but she made ready answer, "I have, too, 
for they bled him and I drank some of his blood." Gruesome reply. 

Mrs. Thomas is acquainted with the Wright family of Dayton, Ohio, 
whose sons invented the airplane. She says the Wright boys would go out 
into the fields and watch the grass-hoppers for hours at a time. They 
would watch them rise up and alight, and in this way they conceived the 
idea of air travel. , , oi. t. 

Mrs. Thomas has worked hard at all kinds of pioneer labor. She has 
sheared sheep and spun the thread into cloth for clothes. 

She is a very intelligent old lady and answered all questions asked 
her very cheerfully. ,. , ,, , t j- i xv j. r<r\T^ 

"When I look back and see all I have lived through I feel that GOD 
IS GOOD. Love and affection are the greatest things m the world. They 
make the long road plain, and the Evening to be light." 

ANDREW J. BERRY 

Andrew J Berry was born February 6, 1853, is therefore sixty-eight 
years old. He was born and raised on Pipe Creek, half a mile from Sweetser. 

He had little chance to get an education, but perhaps as good as the 
usual boy of his day. School lasted only two or three months a year. 

One time when he was a child he was skating on Pipe Creek and the 
ice broke and he fell in and nearly drowned. He struggled and finally 
saved himself but his clothes froze to his chilled body and he had to walk 
home a half-mile away. His skates, even, were frozen to his feet and he 

^^'^ HeTemem'b^rs the Indians quite well. Most of them lived over by 
Jalapa, but there was one, James "Sassafras," who lived two miles south- 
east of Sweetser. He was lively, but harmless. , ., a- a 
Mr. Berry said he was never afraid of the Indians, for they never did 



any harm. They wore citizens' clothes, although a few wore the old Indian 
garb. They never seemed to resent the encroachment of the whites. 

He heard his father tell about going to an Indian camp and seeing- 
a squaw wash some deer meat for cooking, then she cooked the meat in 
the s^me wrter in which fI e had w^js! ed it. 

The Indians cooked their food in vessels over a wigwam fire, or roasted 
meat on a stick. They would roast a whole fish, then pick it off of the 
bones as clean as a pin. 

Mr. Berry said there were many wild turkeys in an early day. His 
father hilled a wolf once when it wp r -^ling -way. 

He first voted for Tilden, but has never been "as "cranky" about poli- 
tics as some. There were impulsive persons who got pretty warm at elec- 
tion time, and some even fought. He witnessed the Culberson-Nelson fight 
at Marion. It was awful. Culberson was a Republican and Nelson a 
Democrat. The affrir occurred at a Democratic rally and was especially 
exciting. He was just a small boy then, but he will never forget it. 

He remembers hearing his mother, who was a good singer, sing cam- 
paign songs. The following cilng in his memory: 

"O what will the little Martin do 
When the whole nation rings of old 
Tippecanoe?" 



THE FIRE PROTECTION OF MARION 

About the first real piece of fire apparatus in Marion was a hand 
pump. This was used by putting the suction hose in a well and the water 
was then pumped by hand, six men on each side of the pump. This pumn 
was kept in a frame fire house on the back of the lot where the Goldthwaite 
block now stands. At that time there were no regular firemen — just a few 
volunteers. 

Later when the water works was instituted the town purchased three 
hose reels and a ladder truck. One reel was kept on Fifth street, between 
Branson and Adams, one at Adams and Sherman streets and the other be- 
tween Fourth and Fifteenth on Branson. The ladder truck was also sta- 
tioned on Fifth street. The firemen were still volunteers, each reel having- 
about twelve men. 

The town was divided into wards. The fire signal was three whistles 
and the number of the ward was blown. The volunteers would then grab 
their reel and start for the ward indicated by the whistles and would usu- 
ally have to hunt a long time for the fire. 

The next sign of progress in the fire protectioon of Marion was when 
a paid department of three men was placed at the fire station on Fifth 
street. Their apparatus consisted of one two-horse wagon and a one-horse 
hook and ladder wagon. The advent of these horses caused a great deal 
of excitement among the old Marionites. Almost every horse knew his 
name, the jet black team, Pete and Prince, and the chestnut sorrel. Flash, 
Their fire signals now consisted of a Gamewell two circuit switch board, 
twelve fire alarm boxes and fourteen miles of wire. 

Number 3 station, at Thirteenth and Branson, was next established as 
a paid department, then number 4 station on North Washington street, 
number 2 station on West Third street and then number 6 station at 30th 
and Washington. 

In 1901 the city built a new fire headquarters on Fourth and Boots, 
the old building on Fifth street being much dilapidated by this time. 

In 1910 the fire alarm system was rebuilt. One new automatic four 
circuit switchboard, Gamewell type, 29 miles of wire, one new Gamewell 
transmitter and new boxes were added, making 55 boxes, thus completing 
the fire alarm system of the present time. 

In 1914 two pieces of motor apparatus were purchased, to be used by 
number 1 statiion, from the Indiana Truck Corporation. On March 17, 
1916, all the departments were fully equipped with motor aparatus pur- 
chased also from the Indiana Truck Corporation, thus making Marion the 
second city in Indiana to be fully motorized, Gary being first. 

Since that time there has been three pieces of apparatus purchased 



from the American la France Fire Engine company, consisting of two 
rotary gear pumps, one 750 gallon per minute, one 1,000 gallon per minute 
and one city service hook and ladder wagon. Any of these three motors 
can make sixty miles an hour. 

The fire department is manned by one chief, one assistant chief, six 
captains and twenty-one pipemen and truckmen. 

— Elizabeth Hamilton, 1921. 

^ 

SOME MORE FACTS 

Mrs. Williams tells that thirty-five years ago there were only two 
street?, and they were mud roads, at Tenth and Fo'rteenth west of the city. 
Where the Lutheran church is now at Fourteenth and Gallatin, was all 
swampy ground, and the district around Nebraska and Tenth was all corn 
fields. 

The Sweetser Opera Horso, located en Third street, where the Glass 
Block now stands, was burned in 1895. 

Where the Formers Trrst pnd Savinfs company now is 35 years ago 
there wjs a frame building. Where the "When" building is wa.-, a little 
grocery store, and where the "Paris" store is was a saloon. 

Miss Minnie Dickey tells that 26 years ago Sixth and Seventh streets 
were open only to Whites Avenue. The hill was covered with trees. Sixth 
street was paved the year of 1902. 

The vacant lot and up to the alley on the corner of Seventh and Race 
was the Kellar lumber yard. The real chair factory was located at Fifth 
and Nebraska. 

The C. & 0. used to be called the C. R. & M. road, nicknamed by the 
people "Crooked, rough and muddy." On the one condition that they v/ould 
gip-v^tr the road, thev were granted a permission of right of way of tracks 
in 1902. ■ ^\ 

Lnrrimer's Studio which was located back of the Royal Grand in 1895, 
was blown up by a gas explosion. A young lady who did the retouching 
was killed. 

The double hou?e on the corner of Sixth and Whites Avenue, 25 years 
p^-', was the Y. M. C. A. Tt stiod wher-^ the ^\ M. C. A. now stands. The 
new Y. M. C. A. was established 15 years ago. 

Twe'^ty-five years ago the library was in the basfment of the Junioi 
High School. Later it was moved to where Barley's Fish Market used to 
be at Fourth and Branson. The new public library was built 19 years ago. 

The post-offife U'ed to be where Wei^-^l's Pa^e^' Storp is now. Faris 
hnd an optical f^hop in the front of it. Clarence Hawkins was the post- 
master and J. M. Ballard was the deputy. Then it was moved where the 
Van Cleve A'^tomobile Company is now, at Second and Washington streets. 
It remained there until it was moved to its present location. 

In 1F95 the First Christian church stood on the corner of Ninth and 
Por.ts streets, and the Catholic church stood right back of it. The church 
wfs t^en called "The Tabernacle." 

The Indiana Theater was built in 1901. 

Washington street, until just a few years ago, was the It/ngest con- 
tinrous asphalt street in the world. 

__iiUi 

STORY TOLD BY ROBERT CAREY 

I was born about a mile ea?t of Oak Ridge in Liberty Township, Grant 
County, Indiana, in December. 1851. I went to school at Oak Ridge until 
I was sixtpen. This was a Quaker school. In the first grades we studied 
from charts about three feet wide and four feet long. The teacher would 
write the letters and words on this. We studied the first, second, third, 
fourth and fifth readers, algebra and spelling. 

We had spelling matches at the school very often. All the people from 
the different schools would come to one school and we would choo.=e up. 
having two sides, and spell to see who could stand up the longest. We 
spelled words from the dictionary besides the ones in the spelling book. 

Some of the games we played were "town ball," "dare base." "black- 
man," "drop the handkerchief," "raise the gate as high as the sky and let 
King George and his family pass by," and "shinnah." On the last day of 
school someone usually made a paper balloon and sent it up. This was con- 



sidered a great event. 

I was always afraid to go through the woods after dark. I was afraid 
some wild animal would get me, although there were no wild animals then. 

When I was little the men would take the bark and some of the wood 
off in a ring around the tree-trunk, then the tree woiild die and the next 
year the trees world be cut down that were treated in this way and burnt. 
This is the way the land was cleared. 

One t!me my cousins came over to play, and brought some friends with 
th-^m. We had three teams of oxen and a wagon and had very much fun 
driving up and down the road. Finally the oxen ran away and tore our 
wagon all to pieces. 

"./e threshed flax, wheat and oats by spreading the grain on the barn 
floor and taking two horses, riding ore and leading one. We would ri'le 
around over the grain and "tromp" it cut. It h?d to be turned over very 
often. Then we ran t'e grain through a fan-mill to clean it. Hay was cut 
with a scythe and wheat and oats with a cradl°. 

We moved to Illinois in 1868. I went to school at Neogo to prepare to 
teach but I had to quit on account of my health. 

1 was married the sixth of October, 1875. We rode to Effingham, 111., 
in the big awgon to get married. The marriage license cost one dollar 
and I paid the Justice of Peace two dollars so it only cost me three dollars 
to get married. We came back to Grant County about 1876. 

I worked in the flax mill about 1879. We made flax tow from the 
flpx. This mill was on Fourteenth and Boots streets. I also worked in 
t' e brickyard, where I helped make three hundred thousand brick for the 
court house. 

In 18r2 I began the dairy business and worked at that for twenty 
yearr. At first we get up at two o'clock in the morning to milk but we 
s^cn changed the tine to forr o'clock. I drove the milk waq:on for five 
years and seven months. We hauled the milk in big cans and dipped it out 
for the people. v. 

Siince I quit the dairy business I've farmel most of the time. 

My father, Isaac Carey, was born in Old Virg n'a in 1812. Later he 
moved to Ohio and in 1850 came to Grant County, Ind'?^"^." 

— Mary Howell. 

* 

JUNIUS PETTIFORD (COLORED) 

When interviewed this quaint old colored man was sitting alone in a 
little cabin in the village of Weaver. He said he was born in North Caro- 
lina about seventy years ago. His parents were not slaves so he was "free- 
born", as he called it. He has heard his parents say that in Carolina some 
masters were kind and others cruel to their slaves. 

While in the South his parents picked cotton, raised tobacco, corn, 
srgpr cane, etc. They movpr' t-> Ch-'o when he wrs a t ry cl^il-^. He c-^nnot 
remember of playing at anything — he has always worked, worked, worked. 
There were seven children of them — Mandy, Luzina, Henry, Joseph, Georgie 
and Junius himself. He could scarcely tell their names for it seems they 
have been a long time parted. 

"I can hardly tell whethah the world is gettin' bettah or worse," he 
said. "Pears like it's gitten' wus'; ole' folks am dyin' an' dis heah new 
generation am diflfe'nt. Wy' I remembahs de' ole' camp meetin's when 
folks shouted, 'singed' and prayed. Some was baptized and some wasn't, 
accordin' as they believed — a mixture of Baptists an' Methodists, I reckon. 
If they's Baptists cou'se they had to be baptized! Does I b'leve in de good- 
ness ob God? Well, I'ze right dar. Dis heah world am full ob trubble, 
sickness and death. I was onced Godless until aftah I lost mah wife. A 
change came, I HAD to get neah God." (The tears came into the'kindly 
old eyes, and a look as of peace into the old tired face.) In Hebe'n theah 
will be no 'colah.' All will be white with God." 

When asked if he had ever seen a ghost or snirit he said: "I'se nevah 
see'd a ghost nor a spurt but I hab' seen de debbil. God show'd him to me 
heah at home. He was awful to look at. His eyes was red as fi'ah and his 
coat on the left side was as dirty an' ragged as could be; t'oth'ah side 
peered like anybody else. I TELL YOU I SEE'D HIM; he looked southeast 
and nebah turned his head. He 'sayed' nebbah a wurd, he just stood an' 



looked. He didn t stay long, de good Lawd took him awav. Oh, no! I wasn't 
in no trance, I was lookin' out ob de winder in de mornin'. It was a strange 
sperience, not many hab' such. 

"I neber learned to read nor write, but God learn't me a better way 
to do than I was doin'. I've see'd lots — I can't tell it all." 

Plad the aged old eyes penetrated the Veil? Were rich blessings poured 
like a benediction upon this bowed, old figure, one of the last of an op- 
pressed race of slaves? 

* 

MRS. MARY HAYES 
"I was born in Craig County, Virginia, in 1838, and was twelve years 
old when I came to Grant County. My mother died the next fall so we 
children had to lerrn to do for ourselves. 

"I r?cpived what education I got in Virginia. The rich were taxed to 
pay the t'^ition of the poor children. 

"Wlen I first cane to Grpnt County I lived in an old log cabin, with 
hinges made of wood, the floors of split logs, fastened by wooden pins, and 
a clap-board roof. 

"After I was married we came to Marion twice a year, only, to trade — 
spring and fall. We had horses, for my husband was a horse dealer, but 
most folks used ox teams. 

"Once I was asked to roast a turkey for a wedding. I hung it to roast 
on the iron rod, or 'crane,' that projected from the fireplace and put a pan 
below to catch the drippings. It was delicious roasted in this way. 

"I bought my fir?t stove at Huntington. Back in those days we used 
"■grepse' lamps. The 'grease lamp' was nothing more nor less than a pie 
pan filled with grease with a soft woolen rag placed in it. This rag was lit 
and would burn dimly. After the grease lamp cam'^ the candle. 

"The roads were very swampy, being full of water during most of the 
yera, as there were few ditches. A few rails or poles laid across the road 
made the corduroy hi^-hway. 

"A stopping place for travelers was called an 'inn.' There was always 
a barn whrre oyen and horses could be cared for. 

"?aloons had no bar. One simpply walked up and asked for what he ■ 
wanted — be^r, whiskey or wine. 

"The election campaigns were always exciting. Party spirit ran high. 
There was always a big rally after election. 

"The Knights of the Golden Circle was an organization against the 
Northern sympathizers. 

"The Underground Railroad went through Grant County. There was 
a slave 'station' on Charles Atkinson's farm near where Upland is now. 
There was a pen covered over w'th =traw which madp it look liVp a 's+'ick.' 
T-i this the slaves were kept. Children would be sent with food for them. 
When the next 'station' was empty the slaves were sent on. 

"In 18G5 there was a failure of the corn crop, so people had to live 
on 'white bread,' as wheat bread was then called. 

"Dnving the Civil War coffee was 60 cents a pound. Those who could 
not afford it narched wheat and used that for coffee. 

"vve jr-t so i^-any erirs th?it we would =ell thpn-- ^'or ^ r°nt= nor dozen. 
Sometimes Sam McClure would buy them and feed J;hem to the hogs. 

"When the Pennsylvania railroad was finished everv one got a free 
ride. I went t'^ TTm'nri '"it ■ 

"Our farm was on the Monroe pike, seven miles from the court house. 
"My name "before marriage was Mary Ann Rock." 

— Story told to Mae Mclntvre. 

* 

MARY TREADWAY-BANNISTER 
She was born September 19, 1832, in Fayette County, Indiana, but 
has lived in Grant County over fifty-four years. 

They settled on the very place where she now lives. It was all woods 
and looked so desolate that she cried to go back home. 

"I was the happiest little girl that ever lived — have always tried to 
remain happy. I ioined the Christian church when I was twelve years old 
and that was the HAPPIEST dav of mv life. Yet those were days in which 



there was much to fear — wild animals roamed in the forest; great snakes 
crawled at one's feet. 

"We had to stuff rags in the cracks of the log cabin to keep the rain 
and snow out, and the meals were cooked before the great fireplace. Women 
wove their own dress material of wool and flax. I can remember the first 
calico dress I ever had. I thought I was dressed up, too." 

Miss Treadway was married to Mr. Bannister when seventeen years of 
age. "Our friends gave us a big 'in-fair' dinner to which we went on horse- 
back," she said. 

"One time when we were going to visit at Wabash the river was so 
high the horses had to swim across. We forded most rivers in those days, 
as there were but few bridges. 

"There were not many Indians near Hackleman, our home. They 
lived in the northwestern part of the country but once in a while an 
Indian would come through on his pony, hunting game or buying food." 

Mrs. Bannister is a very pleasant old lady, and says life is worth 
living. She showed me a very beautiful blue and white coverlet which her 
mother-in-law had woven in 1823. She uses it yet to throw around her 
when she sits in her old armchair. 

* 

HENRY PETTIFORD (COLORED) 
"I was born in Weaver, Grant County, in the year 1851. I moved to 
Marion about thirty-three years ago and have lived here ever since. My 
father's name was Beverly D. Pettiford, and I had nine brothers and sisters. 
Jonesboro was then the center for all trade, being lots bigger than 
Marion. When a person started to a neighbor's house he had to glaze the 
trees to find his way back. I mean by "glazing" to cut a piece of bark 
off the trees with a hatchet. 

I knew Dr. Fankboner's father well. He used to keep a mill along 
Back Creek. I used to put a two bushel sack across a horse and carry 
the grain that way. I knew Dave Hogin, too. He used to go around sellin' 
Singer Sewin' machines, which sold at $75 each. 

I went -to the district school. The colored people wer'nt allowed to 
go to the free schools. The teacher would go around to the different homes 
and ask how many pupils they would subscribe for the school. They charged 
about a dollar or a dollar and a half for each pupil. T'-^e school house was 
made of logs with straw and mud stuck between to fill the cracks up. About 
twenty-five pupils were usually in the school. A large stove stood in the 
middle of the room, the benches being around it. 

The churches were very much like the schools. When I was a boy we 
never thought of wearing shoes to church any more than we now think of 
going without them. The minister stood at one end of the church and 
preached. Then lanterns were never heard of so the people carried hickory 
torches. These were just hickory sticks about three feet long, and when 
one stick went out they took anther one from their bundle and lit it. It 
was a common sight to see forty or fifty lights going in different directions. 
When a person died they had no nice funerals like they have now. 
The friends just made a big box, a "coffin" they called it then, and put 
the dead person into it. Then they put the coffin in a big wagon and hauled 
it to the family burying ground. 

We used to play a game they called "town ball." About five .or six 
boys were on a side. One went to the bat and was allowed to have three 
trials at hitting the ball. There were three bases. Town ball was played 
about the same as base ball is now. "Bull pen" was lots of fun, too. Several 
players formed a circle about twenty fp«t around. Six or eight more were 
in the center of the ring. One in the circle would try to hit a player with 
the ball. The one who was hit had to go out. If he missed he had to go 
in the circle. 

The houses were also made of logs somewhat larger than the old 
cabin in Matter's park. They were built about like the schools, only in- 
stead of the stove they had a fireplace, which was cut out of one side of 
the house, about six feet long and four feet high. The chimney was made 
of sticks which were stuck together with mud. We never heard tell of a 
hold-up or robbery. The doors had a latch on them. A common expression 
was "our latch string is always out so you can come in any time." 

The nearest doctor lived in Jonesboro, about eight or nine miles away. 
Sometimes you could not get the doctor for two or three days after you 



called him. Then they doctored a great deal with herbs. Many people died 
of typhoid fever and the ague. Even on the hottest days of the year a 
person with ague would have chills and get so cold that his teeth would 
fairly chatter. It was a most dreadful feeling. The doctor usually gave 
quinine as a remedy. 

In school we studied the a-b a-b, e-b e-b, i-b i-b, o-b o-b, and u-b u-b. 

I never will forget the first circus I went to. John Robinson owned 
it and it only had one circle. Then he didn't have any animals — just people. 
Somehow I never did forget what the old clown said. The manager of the 
show came out in the ring with a clown, who said: "I figure that there are 
just three kinds of fools in the world." "How do you get that," said the 
manager. "Well, first there are the natural-born fools; second, the fools 
for want of sense, and third, fools for the want of money and old John 
Robinson has paid me well for it for several years." 

Before I moved to Weaver I had a grocery in Weaver and later I had 
charge of the post office. I guess I was the first colored postmaster in the 
state. They had then what they called the Star route, that is all the people 
for miles around have their mail addressed with their name in "Care of the 
Weaver Post Office." Later the R. F. D. took the place of the Star route. 
I then carried mail, sometimes in a two-wheeled cart and other times 
walking. 

My father was a shoemaker by trade. He made all our shoes. They 
were made of very heavy leather, the soles being fastened on with wooden 
pegs. Mother made all our clothes. We raised the flax, scutched it, and 
wove it into material ready for making. 

I remember of being told of a story about "Jacom Lantern's." In the 
spring of the year when the ground was thawing out, bright lights would 
appear, sometimes shooting up several feet in the air. When the lights 
shot up it was supposed ot be Jacom riding the manes of the galloping 
bosses. — By Cleo Harter and Mary Wimmer. 



SOME INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT GRANT COUNTY AND MARION 

The first Edison phonograph was brought to Marion by Mr. Arm- 
strong. It was an instrument that played cylinder recor.is. Ho took the 
musical instrument to the public square and charged the listener a dime 
to hear it. It had six tubes which one put to his ear to hear through. 

There is a Methodist church nearly a hundred years old located near 
Jalapa. 

The Miami Indians always took their dead out of the hut the minute 
they ceased to breathe. 

Political meetings used to be held in Switzer's grove. 

One of the oldest jails was located near Jalapa. It was built of logs 
and the prisoners would put their heads through the bars that were placed 
between the logs. 

Mrs. J. P. Campbell was the first white woman to teach an Indian 
school. This was before the Civil War. The school was located on the 
Mississinewa river in the Indian Village. She was well liked by the Indians, 
and even the chief, Meshingomesia, liked to visit her school and learn with 
the pupils. The building now stands in the same place and even the san.e 
blackboard is there. 

The Indians from the Reservation would come long distances to hear 
Mr. Hamilton play his flute. They would stack quarters upon the table 
until the piles would fall over, then they would start other stacks until 
their money was all gone then they would leave in single files as they 
had come. 

One time some Indians came to Mrs. J. W. Harper's home (at Lafoun- 
tain) in the middle of the night and asked for something to eat. She gave 
them food and they offered her pay but she refused. The next morning she 
found some money in the sugar bowl, which they had left for her. 

The large brick house on Twenty-eighth and Lincoln Boulevard is 
rumored to have been a meeting place of the "Knights of the Golden 
Circle," who were sympathizers of the South in the Civil War. 

The name "Grant" was given to the county in memory of Captain 
Samuel and Moses Grant, who fell in battle with the Indians in 1790. 

David Branson laid out the plan for the city of Marion. 



In 1833-34 James Trimble erected the first court house. It was a two- 
story frame building-. At a later date, 1838, a brick building, costing $5,000' 
was erected and this served until the present building was built. 

Excluding the French explorers who -passed through Grant County 
without settling, it seems that Goldsmith Gilbert was the first white man 
to set foot in Grant County soil with the idea of settling. He established 
a trading nn?t on the old Grindle ^arm in Pleasant Township in 1823. 

Mr. Gilbert furnished supplies to the pioneers by means of flat 
boats which navigated on the Mississinewa. From Wabash to Marion the 
river was navigable with flat boats only. The Indians gave the river its 
name because of its beauty. 

Martin Boots and David Connor were the first to enter land and settle 
in the county. Boots bought what is now the western part of Marion and 
Connor bourht Gilbert's store rnd all the land down aronnd the square. 
The next purchase was by John Ballinger in December, 1825. In the next 
year Henry Renbar2:er, Jesse Adamson, Wm. Hiatt and Joseph Hiatt 
followed. 

^i, 

UNDERGROUND RAILROADS 

There are raih'oads under ground and railroads above ground ; there 
are subways and tunnels; there are railroads over mountains and under 
mountains, but the railroad of which we wish to write is, or was wholly 
above ground and in fact was not a railroad only in name. 

Railroads are used for transporting live stock, human beings and every 
conceivable article of commerce from one point to another point. 

Our railroad was used to carry or convey one single article, that of 
runaway slaves, and while there were several branches of this railroad they 
all had one starting place and one terminal. In other words, it started in 
the South and ended in the "cold and dreary land" of Canada. 

The engineers, firemen, conductors and all t^-e employes on this rail- 
road served without pay and made their runs during the night. In fact, 
they had to keep their operations secret for they were transporting or deal- 
ing in property that did not belong to them. 

The law of the land at that time recognized the right of human slavery, 
or the right of one man who by birth or nationality was white to enslave 
and hold as property his fellow-man who by birth or nationality happened 
to be black. 

As has been intimated this railroad had many branches and traversed 
several states. 

One very important branch crossed the state of Indiana, passing 
through Grant County, entering the county in the neighborhood of Fair- 
mount. 

There were several stations or stopping places in Grant County, the 
most prominent of which the writer has knowledge was at Moses Bradford's 
residence, which was located not far from the Bradford Hardware store on 
North Washington street, Marion, Indiana. 

Other stations were at the farm houses of Joseph and William Brad- 
ford, brothers of Moses Bradford, and at Maurice Howard's, all of whom 
lived in the northern part of Washington Township. From these homes 
and by these men and by the aid of others living in the vicinity, the run- 
away salves were taken to the next station not far from Mount Etna, Hunt- 
ington County, to the home of a man by the name of McFartand. This 
is as far as the writer can trace the route of this railroad. 

The owners or holders of slaves often followed the runaways, some- 
times overtaking and compelling them to return to bondage. 

Instances have been related where master and slave were m the same 
building at the same time and through some ruse or connivance the owner 
was thrown off the track and the slave escaped. 



DAVID HARRIS 

David Harris was born in Franklin Township, Grant County, Novem- 
ber 22, 1838. Hi? parents moved here in 1834 or '35 and entered the land 
of the government, going to Fort Wayne to get the entry. 

"^ ^ e ]?nd w^~ =-va'->inv an-l forested. The roads were primitive, being 
in some cases nothing but bridle paths. The old Jonesboro-Kokomo road 
vvfas •laid out by tie following directions: "Leave Jonesboro by Oak 
Avenue, thence northwest from David Jay's deadening on ground MOST 
SUITABLE FOR A ROAD to the end of John Shugart's lane," etc. This 
accounts for the road being so crooked. 

M^-. Harris also told why range lire roads so often have short turns 
in them. The early surveyor (?) would guess at the spot where the line 
would end and sometimes he missed by a few rods. 

He did pretty well at that for the forests and undergrowth were very 
dense. 

The old Harris home was a log cabin with a high rail fence around 
it to keep the wolves away, for they would often come near the cabin 
snapping and snarling. Cabins often had only a quilt for a door but wolves 
would not try to enter if they could not see the occupants. 

His motVer often carried little David to church on horseback before 
he was a year old. She must have been one of tho-e sturdy pioneer moth- 
ers for she spun the yarn and knit all the mittens and stockings for nine 
boys and three girls. She would color the yarn and put stripes and spots 
in tVe m'ttens and stockings to make them more attractive. She did the 
ba'-ing in a skillet on the hearth, by putting live coals underneath and upon 
the lid of this skillet in which she baked corn bread, biscuits, pie and cake. 
Sometimes she baked corn pone which delighted the children. 

Her bedtime was from eleven p. m. until two a. m. All hail to the 
pioneer mothers! No wonder they mothered a fearless, sturdy race. 

Ore of the first things Mr. Harris remembers is the old sugar orchard 
v.here they made maple sugar. First they tapped the trees with augurs 
and put elder spiles into the holes. The sap ran through these spiles into 
yellow poplar troughs three feet long. When the troughs were full thev 
were emptied into barrels that were hauled from tree to tree on a sled; then 
the bai-rels were taken to a sugar camp where the sap was boiled down into 
syrup or sugar. 

Mr. Harris says: "I began going to school when about the age of 
eight. Some young woman of the neighborhood would teach a subscription 
school in the summer, eight or ten weeks, for one dollar or ono and a half 
per scholar. Later I went to a district school in the winter which continued 
three or four months. Each student furnished his own paper, ink and a 
goosequill pen. 

While we boys were at school father would chop some large trees 
down, measure and mark them where he wanted them sawed off then when 
we boys came home in the evening four of us would take a cross-cut saw. 
go to the woods and cut these logs. The two larger boys would hold the 
han^'^es of the saw at each end and the smaller boys would pull with rope 
or strap, tied to each handle, thus we had a 'four-horse team.' 

When all our evening chores were done we would get our lessons by 
the light of a candle, a grease lamp or a lighted hickory bark. 

"I can remember when seven years old of attending my brother Noah's 
wedding. He was married in the old Deer Creek log church. I was bare- 
footed and wore a little tow shirt and a buckeye hat which mother had 
made. T was not supposed to be present. 

There were a few Indians when I was little. They traded with old 
Sammy McClure, who kept beads and flashy calico. They would come 
bringing their pappooses strapped on boards and when they entered the 
door they would stand boards, pappooses and all on the outside where they 
might view the ways of city life. 

"My father kept an 'underground station' where the slaves would stay 
sometimes three or four days and then go on to the next station. They 
would eat at our table. One time we had both meat and honey and the 
slaves would reach over the meat to get the honey. 

"I voted first for Lincoln. That was a great campaign. There were 
rallies and parades. In one of these parades there was a big wagon with 



fifty girls dressed in white and a lot of men splitting rails in it. Some- 
times there would be flag poles on the wagons. 

"When Lincoln died there was great grief. He had a presentiment of 
his death forty-eight hours before. He saw himself lying in state and 
people standing by his bier mourning. Yes, I believe God can reveal what 
he will," said Mr. Harris. 

"The campaign I remember was that of John C. Fremont and Buchanan. 

"The first time the Republican party had a candidats Cassius M. Clay 
spoke at Marion. 

"He came from Wabash by stage, as there were no railroads in Marion 
then. He was escorted from Wabash by a great n-jmber of men "'n horse- 
back. His carriage was drawn by four milk-white hcrses, but t^^e roads 
were so bad that they nearly mired down several times on the way. He 
spoke in the afternoon at the court house. I shall never forT:et rome things 
he said: 'They are lying on us (Republicans), sayng wp bel'>ve in inter- 
marriage of white and blacks, but we do not bel'eve in it. We believe in 
a white woman for a white man and a black woman for a black man." He 
was quite an orator. 

The old Fort Wayne trail came into Grant County from t^e s">uth to 
Fairmount, then turned northeast, followed around t' e slough that leads 
into Lake Galacia, then continued in a northeast"rn]y direction out of the 
Cdunty. 

"Father did his part as well as mother. He tinned t^^e leather and 
made shoes for TWELVE children. He had us boys t^ke a tomahawk and 
cut the b?rk off of oak trees to tan the leather, which was kept in 'ooze' 
for a year. Those shoes were not always beautiful but they were service- 
able." 

Mr. Harris is a genial old man. He is a v^ry successful farmer and 
stock raiser, and a man of influence in Grant County.' 

The International Grain Show of Chicae-o, 1920, awarded him first 
prize on an ear of corn raised on his place. This mammot>^ ear was 16 Vs 
inches, long and well proportioned. Mr. Harr's showei it --vith nride. 

There is an art in growing old gracefully and Mr. Harris is master 
of the art. 

* 

ANGELINE SILVER-BRADFORD 

Angeline Silver was born in Montgomery county, Ohio, twelve miles 
south of Dayton, February 21, 1843. 

Her parents were very poor so she had few amusements when a little 
child, but she has washed dishes ever since she was big enough to stand at 
a table. "I wonder thr.t I was not drowned in t^--^ Hi'-T^ri-n ^>- stuck to 
the doughpan, for I have cooked ever since I could remember.** 

Her mother had to put the children to bed whi e s e washed their 
clothes. Angeline's best dress was a calico and she had to wear long-sleeved 
aprons to keep it clean. She did not like to wear her anron on S'^nday so 
one Saturday night she hid it so her mother could not have it washed for 
the next day. She went to s^eep happy, feeling sure she would get to wear 
her new calico dress without an apron next day. What was her conster- 
nation next morning to see her nicely laundered apron hanging before the 
fireplace. 

She lived on a dirt road called "Yankee Street," because some people 
from New England lived on it. 

The first day she ever went to school, she ran off to go; the next day 
she went her father came at noon, saying: "Angie, we have company, you 
will have to come home." This was a sample of her school days. She 
never got to go regularly. She finally got to go to a select school for thir- 
teen weeks, which gave her most of the education she ever got. 

She had a dreadful time with her feet — ^they were so big. She wore 
heavy calf-skin shoes which did not decrease the size of her feet any. She 
fretted and worried a long time about the size of hr feet and finally came 
to the conclusion they were the only feet she had, so she had better take 
care of them. 

She was badly scared once when she was a little girl. The man who 
lived on her father's place came down one night wearing a false-face, made 
of paper. He slipped his head in at the "double entry door" and wagged 



it up and down. Her mother was taken greatly by surprise and hastily 
threw a green apple at him which spoiled his false-face and his real one. 
It tore the mask off his face and disfigured his mouth, but it scared little 
Angle so bad she had to be carried from the room screaming. 

She was married to Je?se Bradford in 1876 — -Centennial year. TheJ 
came to Grant County immediately. The county did not look then as it 
does now. It did not seem as nice as the Ohio home she had just left. 

She was married at high noon; the curtains were drawn and a lamp 
lighted — there were no electric lights then — so the ceremony was quite 
modern. 

She said she has raised four boys — fine fellows — by "main strength 
and sheer awkwardness," not because of any excellence on her part, but 
when one looks into the serene peace of her tranquil old face he can but 
feel that there has been — and is — a strength there that has enabled her to 
do WELL her part in life. 

"We should trust in God," she said. "The world has grown careless. 
We need the faith of our fathers. We are living in the last days. I think 
I shall see the coming of the Son of Man. I want to be ready." 



G. W. HAVENS 

When interviewed by Miss Straughan, Mr. Havens was sitting by his 
fireside in a little home in Gas City. He was very kind about answering 
questions but was painfully afflicted with "palsy," so the interview did 
not last long. 

"We came from my old home in Wellington, New Jersey, in 1854, and 
remained in Grant County but two years when we went back to my native 
home. I was only ten years old when I first came here. We came back 
to Grant County in 1861." 

When asled which state he liked best, New Jersey or Indiana, a far- 
away look came into his eyes; a thought of the homeland brightened his 
dear old face, as he said : 

"I do not know that I like Indiana better than the Eastern States, for 
I LOVE New Jersey. 

"I chanced to be in Michigan when Lincoln was assassinated. I lived 
close to St. Joseph and was going there on an errand when I noticed crepe 
on most of the doors along the way. On inquiry I found Lincoln was dead. 
O, everybody loved him!" 

"I can remember when Marion was very different from what it is now. 
We shot many deer, turkeys, wild geese and ducks in an early day. People 
let their hogs run wild, but each owner had a certain mark on them so he 
could tell his own. When any one wanted meat he went out and found his 
'trade mark,' and shot it and brought it home. 

"When we wanted meal we put a sack of corn on horse-back and went 
to Jonesboro and got it ground. People were healthier when they ate lots 
of meal." 

"Out of twelve children there are only two of us left," he said sadly. 

He seemed fatigued and I left him, a pathetic old figure whose race 
ia nearly run. 



REMEMBRANCES OF MRS. ALIVA NELSON 

"I was born eight miles east of Marion, in 1837. 
■ "I can just remember when a little child of my father having gone 
back to Ohio to look for our horses, leaving my mother, one sister and 
myself alone. We had a vistor, not a welcome one, while father was away. 
One evening a big bear came and stuck his nose in at the door (there were 
no hinges on the door), but mother was equal to the occasion, for she 
threw coals of fire into the bear's face and drove 'Mr. Bruin' about his 
business. 

"A common practice of that day was to put gunpowder on the fire 
to keep animals away. 

"I can well remember when my people, who were Republicans, tied 
my future husband to a pole to try and convert him to the faith of their 
party. 

"At the time of the Civil War the nearest railroad was Anderson and 
the soldiers often had to walk there to get transportation. 



"One time my husband and I started on horse-back — he to go to war, 
I to go a day's journey with him. On my return trip I traveled ovar a road 
I did not know, so I came to a toll-gate and found, to my consternation, 
that I had forgotten my purse. 

"I explained to the "keeper" and asked him if I might ride on to 
Jonesboro and borrow money of some relatives, then return and pay him. 
'VVe'l,' he said, 'if we can let the soldiers go free, I reckon we can let their 
wives also,' and at that I galloped on." 



JAMES HAWKINS 

James Hawkins was born March 19, 1841, in Fayette County, Indiana. 
His forefathers came from North Carolina and settled in Fayette County. 
His family came to Grant County in 1849, where his father bought a farm 
ir Washington Township of one hundred seventy-two acres for ^'^0 \ 

When Mr. Hawkins was young they didn't have to go to p?^-' 'ol unless 
they wanted to and as he was never fond of books, he nev-r learned much 
from going to school, but he did learn by observat'on and exT-rioncf. 

He enlisted in the army during the Civil War and serv?d thirty-four 
months and eight days. He was in the battle of Chicamauga and marched 
with Sherman in his famous march to the sea. a 

His early life was spent in agricultural pursuits. At that time t^^ey 
raised a few hogs and cattle which usually ran out in tl e woods for their 
living. They raised more wheat than any other grain. They took their 
wheat at that time to Lagro over an old plank road. 

One day Mr. Hawkins started at 3 o'clock in the morning with a team 
of oxen to haul a load of wheat to Lagro. He arrived at noon and got 
home before dark, a good day's trip for a team of oxen. 

After Mr. Hawkins was married he bought a firm of one hundred 
forty-six acres in Center Township where he now reside". He paid $1,000 
down and went in debt $2.5C0 for it. All he had to b^-in with was on^^ 
team of horses, seventeen hogs and two cows. He didn't have much in his 
favor but by hard work and perseverance he has become one of the well- 
to-do farmers of Center Township. 

— Ada Hawkins. 



STORY OF THE FIRST WHITE CHILD BORN IN GRANT COUNTY 

Martha Renbarger Wilson, the first white child born in Grant County, 
Indiana, was born .Tune 24, 1827. Her parents, Henry Renbarger and 
Elizabeth Harfield Renbarger, moved from Randolph County to Grant 
County in March of 1827, coming down the Mississinewa river in a flat 
boat, or a parogue, as it was called, and entered a farm near where the 
Country Club now is located, north of Marion, situated t^^en in Pleasant 
Township. Since then it has been placed within Washington Township. 

Martha had four brothers and two sisters older t^^an she and one 
brother and two sisters younger. She had two half brothers and three 
half sisters, as her father msrr^ed a"^'r> aftfr t^e ^"^t^ ^^ v^j^ ^^yr-i- wi"- 

Mr. Renbarger was an ardent Whig in the early years of his political 
life and later a strong Democrat. 

Martha went to school for a sh^rt t'me nt a co-^^itry school which was 
situated on the Wabash pike, about three and one-half miles north of Mar- 
ion. The school building is not standing now. She had to go across- the 
river on her way to school and in the summer time she went across in a 
canoe and in the winter on the ice. 

On first settling in Grant County a great many of their neighbors 
were Indians for but little of the land was settled by white people. 

Martha lived on the same farm with her parents until she was married 
in 1845 (?) to James Wilson. Her parents we^e b'^rif^d --.n t^'e home fa-m. 

The parents of James Wilson came from Virginia when he was a boy 
and entered a claim of the land where North Marion now stands and lived 
there for a few years, but became discouraged because of sickness and 
returned to Virginia. Ae few years later they came bark to Randolph 
County and settled there and when his children became of age he bought 
160 acres for each of them from the government, most of the farms Toeing 
in Grant County. The farm belonging to Jiames Wilson was the old Wilson 



farm, situ?.t':>d seven miles east of Marion on the Monroe Pike. James went 
to his larm, i^artly cleared ;t and built his cabin before he was married. 
After his marriage to Martha Renbarger they lived on the same farm until 
"his death m lLi-:4. They had ten children, five boys and five girls. Mrs. 
Wilson died in 1913. They were both buried at the McKinney cemetery, 
isix miles east of Marion on tie Monroe Pike. 

— Iniormation given by D-lcenin Mallott (half sister to Martha Ren- 
harger Wilson) and by Jasper F. Wilson (son of Mr. and Mrs. James 
Wilson.) . 

) ^if^CLT^ W • • 

/) ' '.^ ^ PIONEER LIFE IN VAN BUREN TOWNSHIP 

In about tie year 1834 two young men rode on horseback from 
Ptaleigh, N.-rth Caro'ina, to Fort Wayne. They made this long, weary ride 
to purch£S9 kind from the government, 1,000 acres of wilderness, in Grant 
County. Tl e parers were made out to Thompson H. Farr. The man who 
made the tr p w.th him was(Samuel Washington Farr, his brother. Their 
father wfs desd ?o they bou^t the land for their mother and her family 
of seven beys and one. girl. 

They Vv-ere tie first pioneers in that part of Grant County where the 
village of Farrville is now. 

These pioneer Farrs built their own cabins and made their living as 
best they ccvk'. 

Later other p'oneer families ventured into this unsettled country, 
among t'en be'ng the Camblins, Doyles and Leverichs. 

Ihe people were very friendly and ready to help each other. When 
Camblirs first ?ame they stayed with Doyles in their cabin until they could 
brild one of their own. The cabin sheltered fifteen people although it was 
small. 

The first people cleared the knolls and raised their coi'n, flax and 
sheep. The roads were merely twisty lanes and t' e bi'idges were mostly 
corduroy. 

In the woods they hunted for turkey and deer. After killing a deer 
they would go home and get something to haul it in with. They took the 
deer pelt and coon fur to Fort Wayne to sell, since this city was the closest, 
nnarlet. The hogs ran loose in the forest at first and many times they 
drove them on foot to Cincinnati to the market there. 

The hardy pioneer women worked with their husbands helping them in 
many ways. They made all their clothes, even to the spinning, weaving 
and dyeing the materials. They m^r'e a ^^m e wo-^len '^laterial called flan- 
nel and also a mixture of wool and flax called linsy-woolsy. 

A man w?s his own cobbler. He took the hide from a calf, sent it to 
a tannery where it remained for about a year, then he was ready to make 
the s^oes. Thus everyone got just one pair of shoes a year. 

Later when they needed a drainage system of some sort and were not 
yet able ^"o <?-et ti^es. t>ey made t^-e:r rv" ■■it^h'-p ''r")m what nature ■<^yy 
-vide' at heme. They di^g an ordinary ditch and laid on each side of this 
limbs from the trees which were four to six inches in diameter. They cov- 
ered tVese with smaller branches and sticks and then lo! the ditch was done. 

Mr. Enoch Farr, who contributed this, has several very interesting 
things in his possession which he was hind enough to show me. 

One of these was an old hand-made rifle, very large and rather 
clumsy in comparison with our modern firearms, but still it was in good 
condition. The ramrod and powder horn and measure and the bullet pouch 
v/ere also well preserved. 

Another very interesting thing was a violin which is two hundred yeai"s 
old. They have taken good cax'e of it and it is in fine condition. Mr. Farr 
kindly played a 'ew oi^cos iin^n it and f-e t >ne i=; v n-y, verv s^veot. 

The quilt and coverlet they have are very pretty, and although very 
old, the colors are not faded the least. The designs are interesting and really 
wonc'erful when one stops to think that they are hand-made and that the 
pioneer women even counted the threads in order to get the design just 
right. 

At "Aunt" Tillie Farr's home the woodwork is all nure black walnut. 
The tree from which they got it was bought for just one dollar. It was 



built by the fii-st Farrs, who came there, her father and his brothers. 

— Evalyn Lytle. 

* 

MR. JOHN SMITH 

Mr. Smith was born in Ohio and came to Grant County with his 
parents in 1845. 

His father had entered 160 acres of land 3% miles northeast of Up- 
land at a dollar an acre two or three years before they came to live on it. 
When they came to the farm, of course none of it was cleared and the 
cabin had to be built. 

While his father was putting up the cabin and getting things in shape 
so that they could live there, the family stayed at the court house at Hart- 
ford City. 

He attended school at a log school house, but as there was no law 
compelling anyone to go, and also because his father needed him to help 
clear the land, he did not attend all of the time, which was usually about 
three months or less. 

The ?eats ol tie school house were m^rie of pl?nVs wit^^ont backs. 
There was a long writing desk at one side of the school house with a win- 
dow above it and this served to light the room becaupe the door was made 
of wood and there was only the one window in the building. 

Mr. Smith volunteered for the army in February, 1865, and was dis- 
charged in September of the same year. 

He said he could remember when there were only about twelve families 
living within a circle of one or two miles around their farm. 

There were very few roads at this time and most all of them were 
very poor, having stumps in them, and winding in and out through the 
woods in order to keep out of the swamps. There was one road that ran 
from Hartford to Marion. 

Their nearest railroad was at Muncie or Huntington because the Penn- 
sylvania was not built until 1866 or 1867. 

Mr. Smith said he could remember well of driv'ng the oxer, to Muncie. 
Their nearest t^wns were Hartford, Jonesboro and Marion. Upland is now 
the nearest town to Mr. Smith's farm but there wasn't any town there 
at that time. 

Mr. Smith's father kept the post-office and a little country store. After 
he came back from thp army he carried the mail some of the time. He had 
to make one trip to Marion and one to Bramen. Ohio, once a week. The 
trip to Marion took him a good day and the trip to Brani'^'n, Ohio, took 
four days. He went by way of Portland, staying all night there and then 
on to Bramen to stay that night. The hotel where he stayed in Bramen 
was kept by Dutch people and he said that their langnap-e and the clattering 
of their wooden shoes sounded something alike to him. 

He said they didn't have to go to. town very often because they raised 
flax out of which they made their summer clothes and wool was spun for 
their winter clothes. 

They didn't raise many cattle at that time, but everybody raised a 
number of hogs which were branded and turned out in the woods together. 
All the brands were recorded at the court house so that everyone knew just 
how many he had and that none of them would get lost. 

They usually killed about one or two hogs in the winter, but as there 
was plenty of deer, wild turkey and other game they didn't need to kill 
many. 

He said that he remembered of his father saying one day to his 
mother: "While you are getting dinner ready I will go out and kill a deer." 
It was only a little while until he came back and said he had the deer and 
needed her to help him drag it to the house. 

The wild turkeys were plentiful but as they were very shy one had 
to be quick in shooting them. 

When Mr. Smith got married he went five miles to borrow a buggy, 
because that was the nearest one and only a few people owned a buggy 
at that time. 

Some of the amusements that they enjoyed were spelling schools and 
singing schools. He said it was nothing for the girls to walk three or four 
miles and the boys walk five or six to the spelling schools. The best time 



for tlre^e -wfs in tie winter when a big snow was on and twenty or thirty 
could go in a bib-sled. 

Mr. Smith is a fine old gentleman and is well respected throughout the 
county. Fe cheerfully ar?wered all questions asked and seemed v:ry 
anxious that we succeed in the work that we are doing on the Early History 
of Grant County. — Ada Hawkins. 

^ 

EUZA CULBERTSON-ALLEN (73 YEARS OLD) 
Eliza Culbertson came to Grant County from Guernsey County, Ohio, 
in 1856, when s'^e was a child t^n years old. She has lived here ever since 
so s>e remembers much about early days in this county. She married John 
Allen. 

She lived much like ^ther girls did in those nioneer days. She h-^s 
"dipped" c-ndles many a time. After they were "dipped" they were hung 
vp until t>-ey got hard then nut away in boxes frr a season's use. They 
were usi^ally made in the autumn when the "family beef" was butchered. 

Mr-. Allen srid there was such good things ti eat in those "good old 
days" — great, fire apples, peaches, pears and all kin-^s of friiit. There was 
also fine ve'-ii^rn meat, the deer having been killed right on her father's 
farm. The nioreers called this meat "venzen." Their corn meal was made 
at home with a hand mill. 

When her fpther "did the chores" of an evening he carried a hickory 
torch to s^-e how t-^ do the work. Sometimes she got to follow him and 
carry t^e t'^'rch so he could work faster. 

T^, by chance, the fire went out in the old fire place some one of the 
frvnjiy would '- v to go to a neighbor's and "borrow" coals for relighting, 
or her grsndfrther would take his knife and "glint" it against steel and 
catch the sofirk in "punk" — or rotten wood. 

They had a little hand cider press in the orchard and could make cider 
any tirre th^y warit'^d it. 

V hen the n^iphbors visited them they would come in a big wagon, 
or on "ho'^shac^-" and stay all day, and often times all night. After supper 
they would make "maple-wax," crack nuts or roast apples. "Company" 
never sent word ahead that they were coming, but the house mother never 
dreaded to see them come; she'd welcome them for her life must needs be 
lonely in her cabin home. So she would cook a great pot of meat, hominy, 
potatoes and kraut. Then she always had an abuundance of dried fruit. 
No one ever t^iought of skimming a crock of milk, the cream was stirred 
through the mi^k and used altogether. No wonder sturdy men and women 
grew from s'^ch "eats." 

Her mother had a "spinning jenny" and could spin threads as long as 
the room. Those "^"ennies" were rare. Mrs. Aren has w^ven "linsey 
woolsey," blankets, flannel and jeans but could never weave flax cloth, or 
linen, very well. 

She only got to go to school about three months every year to a "sub- 
s^r'pt'on s-'hool." The teachers nearly always board-^'l at her father's home 
instead of "boarding round," so she had to be pretty good or the report 
came back home. 

Her baby brother met with a sad death. Her father had been cutting 
weeds with a "cradle" and came up to the well for a drink, leavine the 
cradle blade turned up where he placed it on the ground. Thp tiny fellow 
stumbled over it and fell, cutting his leg deeply. The wound did not bleed 
at all. the flesh remaining perfectly white. The doctor came and put ad- 
hesive plasters over it, but in three days the litte fellow was dead. 

There was a cre^k a shcrt distTce from hev childhood homo. Many 
a t'rre s^e has waded the creek to get to a fie^d bevond where the little 
lambs were hept. She has often carried the tiny lambs from this fi^ld. 
wading the creek, and on home, a distance of half a mile, in the dead of 
night in order to save the lambs. 

Her father died when she was small so hor mother had the respon- 
sibility of keening the home. It meant much in those days of inconvenience 
to assume s'lch a task, but her mother did it bravely. She lived to be ninety- 
two years old and was as spry and keen of mind as most women are at fifty. 
She would clean house and do other work that seemed impossible to one of 
her age. 



Mrs. Allen ssys the "good old ways" were the best. Everybody wa?. 
frond-hearted and sympathetic. They had time to stop and help one an- 
other. There was not the mad rush to gpt NO WHERE that there is today. 
T^ rase of s^'^^re^s or death, neip-hbors would come and do all they could 
to help and there was a feeling of kinship that does not exist now. 

* 

JOHN NEFF 

John Neff was born in Champaign County, Ohio, February 1st. 1832. 
He was ore of nine children, four of whom are yet living, one brother 
being five years older t^pn he. 

"Those days were different." he said — "Not a mil°-p-minnte rate. We 
woTit over cordrroy roads, on rivers or canals also by the stage which was 
drawn by six horses." 

He went to the primitive schools of his day. Sometimes the punish- 
ments in-flicted were not pleasant. One time he and a little girl were 
nlaying "Simon s^ys thumbs up." The teacher made them come to the 
front and both hold up a switch as high as they could r^ach then he tried 
to make them stand each on one foot. 

When he grew older he worked on a farm and tap^-ht school. The 
t^rms were thirteen weeks in length, the wage earned being from seventy- 
five cents to two dollars a day. While teaching he boarded at a hotel for 
two dollars a week. 

Children were as bad then as now, in spite of what the old f'^lks sav. 

Child li^e is about t^e same the world over, but they got more "lickins"" 
— "No lickin's no larnin," was the rule. 

"I was pleased to come to Indian^." said Mr. Neff. "althouq-h imnrove- 
ments were not so g'^od here as in Ohio, but the girl I married was here. 
No Ohio girl compared with her!" 

In 18-^4 he went across the plains to California with gold hunters. 
They went in oxen wagons and took cattle with them over f^f^ nlains and 
succeeded in getting sp'^'enty-five per cent of t^em across ?r,^n'\^7_ There 
were some Mormons in this company and they all stopped at PaH Tia>e and 
ft-^ved tv;o days. The town was then only seven years old and looked very 
different from what it does now. The houses were mostlv o^ adobe brick. 
"The Mormons paid no attention to me — no more than a« if I wero a yaller 
do"-." They were iust beginning the construction of the Temple which was 
twenty years in the building. He went into one of their big stores and a 
clerk told him thpt the owner had twelve or thirteen wives. 

Mr. Neff says he met all kinds of people on his we'^tern trip, mostly 
young adventurers who had pone as gold hunters. They would speculate 
and gamble with the'r earnings. 

In digging for gold thev would often turn a stream of water from 
its course and get the gold from the sand bed. 

One time Mr. Neff went to see a new "find." TV>e ow-n^r told him 
he'd show him what a good one it was, so he took about two gallon of earth, 
washed it and had as many nuggets as could be held in the hand. A rich 
find. (Here Mr. Neff went briskly up-stairs to get the first gold he ever 
found. He also brought a gold nugget which he had picked up, about the 
size of a hazelnut.) 

Mr. Neff told about one miner who fell head first into a shaft eighty 
feet deep, but some boards broke his fall and he only hurt his thumb a 
little but he said ruefully, "If the bucket bail hadn't been there I wouldn't 
have got hurt at all." 

Mr. Neff said when he was just a little fellow one night he heard music 
about nine o'clock and was very much scared for he thought it came from 
heaven. He called to his parents to come and listen and it was found that 
the heavenly music was nothing more than "a belling" over the hill — a 
belling was when a fellow got married and the neighbors would get all 
kinds of noise-makers, dish-pans, cow-bells and horns. Then they would 
go and surround the house and try to make the young married people 
appear, 

Mr. Neff is a very gracious old man — spry and active for one of his age 
* 



.. MEMORIES OF MRS. JOHN W. NELSON 

Mrs. Mary EI!en Bone-Nelson, who has been a resident of Grant 

?.:ziizni::tt^'i?^.ir '-- ^'^•^* -'•- -» °' «"--i'" 

uncle butcher After spending the day working the uncle gave her a part 

a s?r>n°of wo'od' "w.^'^'^^'l .°" ^^' ^^^ ^^"^^^ ^^^ ^ad to pass through 
a stiip of woods. When she had gone a little distance through the woods 
she heard wolves following her, as they had scented the fresh meat, but 
ivf/, 7T ^"Kt^'u^'^^^i ^^^ ^'"^^ they would soon ovrtake her so she 
tried to hurry the horse but it had heard the wolves and became frightened. 
+l.v.,t°S . 1^^;^°^^?? ^«"^i"^ closer and closer and decided she would 

throw the meat to them if no other help came before they overtook her 

T ^fj^^ ^""""l coming up all around her by this time and there 
seemed no other way for her to escape as the horse was almost unmanage- 
able and the road so difficult she couldn't turn. 

"Her father heard the wolves and knew they were after some one who 
was crossing the woods As he came near the girl he fired many shots 
that scared them and they all disappeared. The father then saw 'that it 
was his own daughter and he took the meat on his horse and they finished 
their .lourney in safety. 

''I also remember." said Mrs. Nelson, "the spirit between the Northern 
and Southern people fifty-five years ago, which was very bitter. 

'One time there lived around Marion a few Southern sympathizers 
who desi;royed several barns belonging to the Northerners. They also beat 
many of the older residents and stole all the valuables they could find. But 
theFe raids only lasted a few weeks as the Yankee soldiers soon took sides 
against those invaders. 

"Everybody made their own clothing when I was young, out of flax or 
wool.^^ During the war we paid 60c for a yard of calico. 

"People traveled on horse-back, in big wagons, or walked. There was 
not much visiting as the roads were unfit to travel on. V/e did not think 
of going many other places besides church and school. Our schools only 
lasted three or four months and everybody that wished to could go. The 
older boys would carry the younger children on their backs, or put them in 
front on horseback. 

"Many times we would awaken in the morning and find a wild fox or 
a deer lying on the porch where my father had laid him after getting up 
at 5 a. m. and 'hunting' long enough to get something. 

"My sister Martha and I used to chase wild turkeys away from the 
farm so they would not destroy all the crops. 

"All the young men wore boots. They were more careful of their 
boots than boys are of shoes today, too." 

— Told to Irene Nelson. 

* 

JOHN T. LEVENGOOD 

John Levengood was born in Monroe Township, Grant County, in 1852. 

"Those were serious days back in my childhood. I had to walk two 
and a half miles to school; I waded water and walked logs to get there. 

"There were deer and wild turkeys in the thick woods. I remember 
one time I started to go across the woods to my Uncle Bocock's, who lived 
about three-fourths of a mile away. It was getting dark and just ahead of 
me I wgs sure I saw a panther — the old folks had been telling scary tales 
that day — I saw it crouching and ready to spring. I could not go back, it 
was too far, so I summoned courage to go closer and found it was a stump 
with its great roots lying out in the path. 

"Another time at twilight as I was going through the woods I was 
certain I saw a ghost, for it was a white object that rose before me, up and 
down, up and down. 1 was sure it rose fifteen feet. I was paralyzed with 
fear, but by and by there was a stir in the underbrush and our old mare 
with a white spot on her forehead came up to me. That was my ghost, the 
white spot on 1 er forehead as she browsed the grass. 

"Were the presidential elections LIVELY back in those days? Well. 
I rather think so! The first election of Lincoln was a bitter fight. Both 



sides were radical. The Kni>hts of the Golden Circle were organized in 
our neighborhood and even had their guns ordered from England. They 
wpre labeled 'Sunday School Books' rnd got ps far as Indianapolis where 
they were susnected and opened. Governor Morton turned them over to 
the Federal officers and they were used by Union soldiers in the war. 

"The Knights of the Golden Circle even had the night spt when they 
were to raid t^'e homes of thpir foes, but the word got out and they did not 
attempt it. That nirht my father slept, armed, on the floor between the 
doors of his cabin. He would not even shut the doors. 

"Lincoln's second election was not so bitterly fought. 

"The Democrats had a white walnut for an emblem: the Republicans 
had a red, white and blue ribbon. Each would try to jerk the emblem off 
the ether. 

"Well, times have changed since then. Oh, yes, I mnst tell you about 
the 'pumpkin butter' we used to eat. It was made by boiling the pumpkin 
until the juice was thick. How we ate it, and thou'^ht it good. 

"Anyhow those old days and ways made a lot of good citizens." 

* 

MARY JANE CARR-WILSON 

When approached for an interview, this dear old lady of eighty-five 
was standing in her back yard giving "garden instructions" to her son of 
sixty-four, who seemed to be teachable for he had spaded up quite a little 
bit of ground. 

In a business-like way she led me into the house and asked my busi- 
ness. Being satisfied it was of a legitimate nature she signified her willing- 
ness to talk about "early days." 

"I was born in Henry County, at New Castle," she said, "in 1836, May 
24th. It seems a long way back. 

"Oh, the fun we used to have! I always had a lot of fun. We girls 
used to play 'teeter' over a log. Yes, and I used to walk up on poles — oh, 
you know — on stilts! Now wasn't that a great thing for a girl to do, go 
'Tomboying' like that? But it was innocent fun for all that; I did not 
get to go running about like girls do now, I stayed at home. 

"Then I had to work hard, too. I have always made my own clothes. 
I remember the first calico dress I ever had. I was thirteen years old, and 
wore it to a neighbor's and a rain came up and I ran into the house for 
fear it would spoil my new dress. 

"I was married at eighteen to a fine young farmer, Jesse Wilson. We 
came to Grant County when everything was forest. We cleared the land, 
ditched it and got ready to live as the pioneers of that day lived. We 
didn't have to have all we saw in those days. 

"Yes, don't I remember Harrison and Tyler and James K. Polk? 
During the Polk campaign the boys carried poke stalks over their shoulders 
and jeered at the other side. 

"And the Civil War! Oh, those were hard days. I don't want any 
more war. I've lived through three wars — the Mexican, Civil and World 
wars — and I don't want any more of it. Why, I nearly grieved myself to 
death because my grandsons were drafted in this last war and then they 
didn't have to go. 

"Oh, these new-fangled days and ways. I like the old ways best. I 
have not taken up any of the new customs. Why, I make all my own 
clothes by hand although I have a nice sewing machine in there. Yes, and 
I cook old-fashioned too, and can beat the new way of fixing things to eat. 
Say, you come over some day and I'll bake you corn bread." Seeing the 
hungry look in my eyes she said, "O, do come," and with that I left this 
hospitable old lady of eighty-five years. 

MR ROBERT SEELEY, 86 YEARS OF AGE, NOW 

RESIDING IN GREEN TOWNSHIP, GRANT COUNTY 

Mr. Seeley says: "I was born in Franklin County, Indiana, December 
23, 1834. When I was a boy our family lived in a rude log cabin. I had 
three brothers and three sisters. Our home was a happy one for we would 
all gather around the fire on cold winter evenings and my father would 
tell "ghost tales. This was the main amusement of the evening. Mother 
would be so busy spinning that she would not have time to listen. 



"When I was old enougTi to go to scliool my father hought me McGuf- 
fey's Reader. This book was partly spelling and the rest reading. Our 
teacl er was an Irishman, Samuel Hyde, who was very strict on us. We 
knew wi en he said for us to do anything it must be done immediately. He 
-always Irought an arm-load of beech gads to school with him on Monday 
.mornings. 

'"ihis was a subscription school and the teacher only got seventy-five 
>cents a day. Our school house was built of logs with a long stock chimney 
plastered with mud. For our windows one log was removed and a glass 
put in its place. Tie scats were made by cutting a long log into two pieces, 
cross-wise, and driving pegs into the bottom to serve as legs. The big boys 
had to go early of a morning and build the fires. School only lasted three 
hours a di y. The most advanced work the teacher could do in arithmetic, 
or sums, was long-division. 

"We played town-ball, which was a great sport in those days. We 
would chocse up sides and I always chose Malissa Patterson if I got to 
<;hoose first. She was the best player in school. Malissa is still living. She 
mist le about h9 years old. Another one of our sports was the grape- 
vine swing. An r]d gr?pe vine grew on the tnp of a high bluff and we 
would hold on with our hands and swing out over the high bluff. 

"My people moved to Grant County when I was a boy. We had to go 
thirty miles to the nearest railroad. It took us three days to make the trip. 
I never had a "bojghten" suit of clothes until I was twenty-two years old. 
One pair cf boots had to last a year. When I was twenty-two years old 
I was united in marriage with Angeline Whipple. 

"I have lived in Grant County practically all my life. I certainly en- 
joyed these old days. I will never forget the grape-vine swing." 

— Told to Dorothy Wimmer. 



A HAUNTED HOUSE 

A home located in the city -of Marion is known by a rather weird tale 
which happered iust a few years ago. The family living there had a son, 
thirteen years of age. He was ill for thirteen days, and on the eve of the 
thirteenth day he called his mother, asking her if he could get up and shoot 
his toy rifle. His mother took him to the living room and placed a board 
in the fireplace, for his target. He shot thirteen times, and after the 
thirteenth shot he grew wor^e and died shortly afterward. This incident 
happe^-'ed about one o'clock in the morning. 

After his burial, every nieht at the same hour the family would hear 
thirteen shots, apparently at the fireplace, and although they would lock 
the doors and the windows, they would open and shut as if someone were 
leaving. The family investigated to see if they could find anything about 
the house to make this noise, but were unable to do s'^. 

— De Vonia McCall. 

^ 

WHAT AILED THE HOUSE? 

There was a hoi'?e in early days that was surely haunted if all reports 
■of neighbors and residents of the said house were true, but as reports of 
this nature lose nothing with the telling, let us suppose that some parts 
may be over-drawn. 

First of all, as a basis for a "haunt," the husband is supposed to have 
killed his wife. The facts and evidence in the case are lacking, but "facts 
and evidence" are not necessary in case of a "haunt." 

The following uncanny "conditions" were seen, felt and heard by those 
who were interested in the supernatural: 

(a) A mysterious sound was heard at times; difficult to interpret as 
to origin, but sounding like a sack of grain falling to the floor. 

(b) A woman without the necessary accompaniment of a head wa.s 
seen carrying in her arms a tiny babe. She frequented t^e house at du'^V. 

(c) The clapping of hands was heard at irregular intervals. Each 
time there were three claps. 

(d) The lady who lived down stairs felt the icy grip of five cold 
fingers on her cheek; while the lady who lived upstairs was favored with 
the same pleasurable grip on both cheeks. 

But none seem to be able to prove it. 



ALMINOR KELLEY ADDINGTON 

Alminor Kelley was born in Ohio in about 1834, on January 27. They 
do not know the exact date of her birth for the "Family Bible" was burned 
when their house burned and they lost all their rrcords. 

When she was a small child they moved to Henry County, near Hagers- 
town, and from there to Grant County in the neighborhood of Swayzee. 
They lived here five years before the land was entered and she can 
remember having no playmates but the Indian childr-^n. 

She never went to school a day in her life, bi;t she has a good memory 
and can count and read now. 

When she was young she said she remembered seeing her grandmother 
carrying a s'ckle and cutting wheat. They rai ed flax a'^'l terdrrl that ton. 

When he came here there was no court house at all and just a little 
log house for a jail. She said, "I think they said I was the first to get mar- 
ried after they had a court house and they sti 1 have my papers down 
there yet." 

Almlror Kelley was quite past a little c^ild when Pol'- and Clay 
ran for president. She said they went to Hagerstown to a rally and while 
everyone was there they had lots of whiskey and many of the men were 
as drunk as could he, and they fought like cats and do^s. They got one 
man down and pulle his shirt up over his head and then several men jiimped 
at him biting the flesh from his back with their teeth. She said she remem- 
bered this as well as if it had happened yesterday. 

The Kelley's used to prepare hides, then Sam McClure came around to 
get them and gave them food and other things for t^e hides. 

In a^out 18B2 Alminor Kelley married CPat) Addine'ton. They had 
nine children, only one of whom is still living. Mrs. Addington lives with 
her at the present time though her own home is in Swayzee. 

A few years ago Mrs. Addington had a stro' e of paralysis and since 
then has lived with her daughter. She said she was bl'nd for a while but 
now she can see. 

She said sle was gkd she could live brt still, at times, she felt in the 
way for she was a care and no one to care for her except her daughter. 

* 

EARLY LAND-OWNERS IN SO'JTH MARION 
(By Robert Smith — 1920) 

1. From Fourteenth to Sixteenth streets on east side of Washington 
street, including First Friends church, owned by James Switzer. 

2. West of Washington street, 0. H. P. Carey owned thirty or forty 
acres. 

3. East of Washington, from 16th street to the hill, owned by George 
Wehster. 

4. West side of Washington, from 18th street to 2Pth street, owned 
by Jack Foster, and the hill was known as "Foster's Hill." They dug and 
hauled sand and gravel from this hill to make it smaller, for it used to be 
real steep. Ore day, where a big hole, ten or twelve feet was dug, a 
wagon load of people came by and fell in. but no one was badly hurt. 

.5. On west of Washington, from 26th to 33rd streets ^also a little 
strip of land over to Adams street) was owned by Henry Wade. 

6. East of Adams, Jessie Thomas owned 180 acres over to Sand Pike, 
or Meridian street. 

7. From 33rd to 36th, owned by Jeremiah Thomas, both east and west. 

8. There used to be a ditch running from the College to a little be- 
yond 36th, and this was full of fish, and in summer they used to catch a 
big string of fish there. In winter time there were large ponds of ice from 
40th, all around Second Friends' church, a quarter of a mile long and forty 
rods wide, and they used to have a fine time skating. 

9. From 36th to 38th, east and west, owned by John Thomas. 

10. South of 38th street, on west side of Washington, including Sec- 
ond Friends' church, Jacob Botow owned to Western Avenue. 

11. South of 38th to 44th, about 80 acres, owned by Isaac R. Smith 
(Mr. Smith's father), the first big brick country home, built in 1865. The 
men who built it were Weldon Malott and David Saunders. 

12. On west side to 44th, owned by Robert Bats. 

13. From 44th, east side of Washington, owned by Oliver Carry, 



later Tjy IMr. Mooreliead, 80 acres. 

14. West to 44th to first cross-road, owned by Eli Thomas. About 
70 acres. 

1.^. On to .=^econd cross-roads, owned by George Shu^art. Owned on 
'both sides of the road. 

16. On to next cross-roads, east side, Thomas Harris; west side, 
Shugart. 

Mr. Pmith says his first school was in an old building by the Power 
HouFe. Later he went to the "TJn:ted Brethren" log building'at 38th and 
Meridian streets. All children living on the Jonosboro pike came there to 
school. They would go to school in winter on their skates, when warmer 
they w^uld "coon" the fences to keep out of water. 

His first whipping at school was given because he and three other 
boys went tt school early one morning and decided to go skating and come 
hack late. The teacher whipped the other two boy=, but when he came to 
Mr. Smith who had en a long coat, he ^Mr. Smith) stooped down to miss 
the blows, ST the teacher h-'t him a few blows on the neck. 

This schoo^ house was later moved to 38th and Washington, about 1866 
or 1867, t^^f^"' o'-'t to where the country school is now situated, south of the 
College. Irter it was moved to 41?t and Carey streets and used for a 
•church, and finally was built into a dwelling house. 

Mr. Sm'th ha'-^ed wheat from 40th street to Wabash when fourteen 
years old. Fe m^de three tries in one week. 

He says the fir?t merchants of Marion were Samuel McClure, George 
White. Goldtl^waite & Hogan and Jessie Smith. 

His father wor^ ed for Jessie Smith when he, Robert, was but four 
years old. There was a kind of circus came to town one day and his 
mother and aunt went and left him with his father in the store. While his 
father was waiting on a ci-istomer, he ran to the show. His father, susuect- 
ing where he had gone, followed him to the show, bou^-ht a ticket, went 
and found him. So the whole Smith family went to the show, and Quakers 
at that I 

^ 

FRANCES ASBURY BRADFORD 

F. A. Bradford was born in Grant county Aug. 27th, 1850. He re- 
ceived the education that most children of that day had. He recalls one 
year when there was not any school at all, due to lack of funds. 

His boyhood was spent in the era of log rollings and corn hustings. 
His father attended eighteen log rollings one season. Fine timber was 
wasted at these "rollings" — oak, poplar and walnut trees that today would 
luring fabulous prices. The bark of the white oak was used for tanning 
leather. 

The Indians used to pass his father's home on the way to the "Big 
Woods," located in northern Grant and southern Huntington counties. The 
Indians would go in single file, on ponies, to the "Big Woods" where they 
remained for several days hunting. ^ 

Thiey had a temporary camp a short distance from Mr. Bradford s 
"home. It consisted of huts or tents made of elm bark. There was moss 
inside the huts which served as beds for the Indians. 

The first time he ever tried to read at school he cried and cried until 
he had to go and sit down. The children had to "toe the mark" in spelling 
which meant that each child had to place his toes on a straight chalk-line 
made by the teachei*. Felix Burton, John Green and William Johnson were 
among his first teachers. 

The first funeral he ever attended was that of his grandfather. George 
Bradford. He was buried about one hundred and fifty yards from his home 
on his own farm. Later he was removed to Fairview cemetery. The sight 
of death appalled Frances very much. 

Graves were often dug down to a certain depth, then finished in the 
shape of a casket. After the coffin was lowered into this it was covered 
with boards forming a crude vault. , 

He says his first church service impressed itself upon his mind. George 
Hubbard preached. The songs they sang were doleful in the extreme with 
long metre, and he began to cr" and had to be taken outside. 

Mr. Bradford told of early farming. First the primitive forest, with 



Its undergrrowth, had to be removed. This was a Herculean task, but the 
sturdy pioneers did this without complaint. Then they fenced the cleared 
area with a rail fence. If it needed underground drainage they used timber 
for there was no tile. 

The ground was ploughed with either a "jumping shovel" or a "bar 
^hear" plough. A home-made harrow, shaped like the letter A was used, 
then the land was "laid off" in light furrows and the corn dropped by hand 
and covered with a hoe. 

When the corn came up little Frances had to "thin" it, leaving but 
two or three stalks to the hill, then his older brothers followed with hoes 
and removed all weeds, and replanted any hill that was mi«sed. 

Wheat was sown broadcast on land that had produced oats or flax, 
then was "harrowed in." When ripe the standing grain was cut with the 
grain cradle and the down grain with a reaping hook. 

Tt was threshed by horses tramping it on the barn floor. The chaff 
was separated from the wheat by means of a fan-mill. 

Pigs were partly fattened on acorns, hickory nuts and beech "mass." 

Cattle were rarely ever kept in stables, not even milk cows. The cows 
were milked without being tied and most always by the "women folks." 

The best farmers tried to make every foot of cleared land produce. 
Even the fence corners were set in grass which was cut for hay. All burrs, 
thistles and weeds were carefully removed from the farms. 

In this way the early pioneers paved the way for the luxury and com- 
fort of future generations. 

* 

WILLIAM WHARTON 
(Told by Gecr^e Wharton) 

William Wharton was born in 1816 in Guernsey County, Ohio. When 
he was sixteen years of age he came alone to Indiana. The country was 
very wild but he camped his first night about one-half mile from Buck- 
wheat's village. Buckwheat was chief of the Delaware Indians. He landed 
there on the eve of Easter day and camped by the side of a pond. He said 
he had more eggs to eat for Easter than he ever had before or since. He 
fished and got fish eggs. 

On Easter morning his horses were gone so he left his possessions here 
and started on the hunt of them. He trailed them through the woods and 
overtook them about where Union City is now. He came back and cleared 
the ground and put out a crop and then went back to Ohio and married 
when he was seventeen, and his wife was a year younger. 

The Wharton home was built about 200 yards from the Delawares' 
village. In the winter time twelve or fifteen Indians were always around 
their fire-place and they couldn't get rid of them without making bitter 
enemies of them. 

In 1873 William Wharton and his wife, Rachel, moved to Grant 
County. Their land was around Matthews and the southeast part of the 
county. Mr. Wharton was a pioneer through and through. He went to 
Iowa but didn't like the prairies and finally returned to Grant County. 

They used to hunt for their amusement. One nip-ht he went coon 
huntiing and when he thought he had one spotted he fired and one fell 
from a tree beyond, and then when he thought he would get the first one 
he shot still another one. 

The little Wharton children made pets out of whatever they could 
catch. Once they had a little ground squirrel that was as tame as a kitten. 
Buckwheat wanted it for his little girl and little Helen Wharton objected 
very strenuously. Buckwheat just stepped on it and killed it so no one 
could have any enjoyment out of it. Near where Buckwheat's tribe used to 
live is a bluff that still bears the name of Buckwheat. 

When they used to hunt deer they took a piece of wood that held fire 
and made a light and put it on the front of the canoe. They paddled along 
quietly, close to the shore, and when a deer was eating moss along the 
edge of the river it would see the light but was not able to see anything 
behind it. Deer will not run from a light so the hunters could kill them. 

The surest way, and the way the pioneers used to call the turkeys, 
was to use the wing bone, cutting it off at the second joint, chopping off 
the end and then suck through it and it made a noise like the turkeys 
make when they call. This always brought a whole flock of turkeys. 



Wm. Wharton died in 1902, but his son, George Wharton, tells the 
story of his father's lile as if it were his own. 

— Mary Herzog. 



J. H. PETTIFORD (COLORED) 

I was born in Grant County in 1852. The country was then a wilder- 
ness and very swampy. In traveling the pioneers had to glaze the trees so 
they would not get lost, for there were not many wagon roads then. 

My parents came from Guilford County, North Carolina, and settled 
near Richmond, Indiana, then later came to near Jonesboro and worked for 
David Jay; from there on to West Branch, and then to Weaver where there 
was a large colored settlement. 

I went to a "district" school, and after the Civil War to a "free" school. 

In 1880 I went into partnership with H. Weaver in the grocery busi- 
ness. In 1882 we got the po£+- office established at Weaver and I was the 
post-master and Mr. Weaver my assistant. We got the mail but once a 
week at first, later it came daily. 

I served as constable for two years in Liberty Township under Samuel 
Wilson, until he died, then I came to my present location, as grocer, on 
Tenth and Nebraska. 

x^, 

HOW THE JONESBORO-MUNCIE ROAD WAS LAID OUT 

As we ride over the Jonesboro-Muncie pike we little think of the 
curious legend which is told concerning its origin. 

The first road was started before Indiana was recognized as a state. 
At this time dense forests covered this territory, penetrated only by the 
Mississinewa river. 

The road was started from Muncie quite early in the 19th century. A 
man started out into the forest and worked his way through the under- 
growth, always picking the way where the least resistence was offered. 
After traveling a short distance the man would halt and blow lustily on a 
horn which he carried. In the rear a party of his companions hearing the 
horn would cut a path through to the man. This process was repeated and 
repeated until the trail reached Jonesboro, which was, then the largest 
town in Grant County. 

In going over the road today one can readily see why the road should 
be so winding, the first trail being carved out in such a curious fashion. 
Indeed, the longest straight stretch in the road today is scarcely a mile 
and a quarter long. One will also notice several abrupt turns in the road, 
especially at the town of Wheeling, where a ninety degree angle is made. 
The reason for this was because the pioneers had no desire to cut through 
so many large hills and ravines which are adjacent to the river, and notice- 
ably at Wheeling. 

Despiite many seeming drawbacks this road has for a long time been 
one of the best in the county and will remain so if a little timely care is 
taken of it. Our pioneer surveyors could lay roads for "a' that." 

— Guy E. Stahr. 

* 

GUS CONDO 

Gus Condo, senior, was born near Bennett's Switch, Miami County, 
August 1, 1849. 

Most of that country was woods, ponds and swamps. There were 
deer, wild turkeys and many squirrels in the woods. 

Mr. Condo was born in the Indian Reserve but most of the Indians 
were gone before his day. 

His school house was the typical log house with its big fire-place and 
writing desk. The pupils brought lunches of corn bread. Wheat bread 
was reserved for Sunday. 

One of the teachers was "Andy" Cox. There was a big pond near the 
school that froze over in winter. "Andy" told the pupils not to go on the 
ice, except the boys who had skates. Of course, this meant that thev all 
went on to the ice. "Andy" called them in and lined them up according 
to age. Mr. Co-do was the last culprit. "Andy" was ready to whip every 
one of them, but one of the larger boys stepped forth and told him to put 
up the gad. "Andy" decided he could not whip twenty pupils, so he re- 



luctantly put up the gad and the culprits went free.. 

Mr. Condo's father was a farmer, but he wanted his children educated' 
so he bought all t! e books he could afford, saying he could not send his 
boys to college but they could read books. 

All of Mr. Condo's brothers became ministers. He, himself, has preached 
for fifty-two years, having begun preaching before he was quite twenty- 
years ox age. 

Mr. Condo says the one thing necessary in these days is an education. 
It matters not what one's profession is he must be educated 

* 

OAK MIDDLETON 
Mr. Middleton has lived in Marion for 84 years. He came from Ohio 
when a tiny child. He went to school when two or three years of age. He- 
saw the whole town of Marion built. He bought the land where he now 
lives (on Sixth street, near Nebraska), when it was in meadow land. Mr. 
Mahlon Waldron was clearing off the land where the court house stands 
when he came here. Court was then held in an old log house. He remem- 
bers Martin Boots quite well, and Nathan Branson, and often played with 
Branson's boys. 

There was a "swimming hole" where the Indiana theater now stands;: 
there was one just east of the present Presbyterian church also. The 
Mississinewa river did not flow in its present channel and there was much 
marsh land where Marion now is built. There was a hill just west of the 
present Pre:^byterian church, about where Undertaker Stuart now lives. 

A few years ago many men came to him to get locations and facts 
about abstracts because he knew the land and its early owners so well. 

There were many wolves — too many — wild turkeys and other game in 
the early days. One time his father had to go to Cincinnati on business 
and his mother and the children stayed at home alone. In the night they 
heard an awful uproar that frightened them very much. At first they 
thought it was dogs after something but later they knew it was a pack of 
Wolves that had come to eat the carcass of an animal near the shed. 

He said that hogs did not have to be fed because they grew fat on 
acorns, beech "mass," hickory nuts and other "fruits of the woods." 

His father and the children used to raise flax, then his mother would 
weave the linen threads into cloth for their clothes. He used to wear a 
"tow" shirt and linen breeches. These garments would "scratch" until they 
were well night unendurable. 

Men went to church then in patched clothes and home-spun garments. 
The preacher would preach in the old school house once in four or five 
weeks. 

In the spring Mr. Middleton would shear the sheep, about seventy-five 
in number, when'he was only nine years of age. He could spin twenty-five 
"cuts" a day— four cuts to the skein. . ^ . , .1 

If he wanted to play in the afternoon he would hurry up to finish the 
twenty-five cuts. He says he could outspin two women. He says the In- 
dians would come to see Bob McClure's races (on what is now the Philip 
Mptter farm, northwest of Marion). They would get drunk and have a 
"high old time." These races were held seventy years ago and later. Be- 
fore a race they would drag two big kettles over the track to smooth it 

"^^^ One time there were two fine horses that were to race, one, Hanging- 
Rock driven by a little negro; the other, Martha Simpson, who had no 
driver but won the race by nine feet. There was much betting done at 
these races. ^^^^^ ^.^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ wrestler in those early days he 
said "Dogged if I know, but big Jack Hays was a good one, weighing nearly 

- ^'^S ^^ L'utementrhe'Tad was "clearin" and going to dances^ 
He himself would "fiddle" for the dancers. People now talk about the old 
fotv'' amu^rments, but those days were the happiest of all. Then people 
^^ i,^^^+«Wp and kind He can "fiddle" yet and ever dance, but only to 
ThT'old tunes. After Ws marriage he sold his old violin and did not play 
for years. log-rollings. Sometimes there would be one 

every day for three weeks. One big walnut tree which he burned would, 



if sold now, have bought the forty acres he then owned. 

There were also corn huskings, quiltings, apple-pearings and spelling 
matches and after these there would be a big dance. 

Mr. Middleton says there is only one man in Grant County who has 
been here longer than he has and that is David Hogin, who came two years 
before he did. They differ a little on the things remembered, but Mr. Mid- 
dleton says he (himself) remembers better than Hogin. 

There are also two other classmates of his who are still living (1920), 
Mrs. Martha Weaver and Mr. Jacob Barley. He says also that David Con- 
ner was here before Martin Boots. 

Mr. Middleton's favorite book in the years long past was the "Pictorial 
History of the United States." One night some one left it out in the rain 
and ruined it. He went to school to Judge St. John in 1848. 

Mr. Middleton is a hale old man, cheerful and pleasant, and keenly 
alive to the needs of the present. 

* 

JAMES HARRIS DENTON 

"Uncle Jimmy" Denton was born in Wayne County, Penn., Septem- 
ber 1, 1837. He has lived in Grant County over thirty years. His early 
years were spent in the typical log cabin with the puncheon floor and clap- 
board roof. The house was built without nails, just "pins" of wood. 

"We did not know what it was to lock a door when we were married," 
he said, looking at the dear old lady seated near. "People were honest then." 

"I was right smart of a deer hunter. I have killed a lot of them ; shot 
them right through the heart with my rifle. A deer never showed fight 
unless it was wounded. Yes, and there were porcupines, lots of them. 
Sometimes they would throw their quills into the dog's mouth and the dog 
would have to be killed." 

He told about the early circuit riders coming for long distances on 
horseback to preach a plain gospel to the pioneers. They preached in the 
old log school houses, and would often use the "recitation bench" for a 
"mourners' bench." Those convicted of sin would come and kneel and 
cry out to God for mercy. Then, when converted, they would shout loud 
enough to be heard a long distance. 

The congregation would sing the old-fashio^ned songs: "A Charge to 
Keep I Have," "When I Can Read My Title Clear," "Come Thou Fount of 
Every Blessing," "Shall We Gather at the River." " 'Tis the Old-Time Re- 
ligion," etc. The preacher would "line" the hymn, that is, he would read 
aloud the first line of the hymn and the people would sing it, then he'd read 
the second, and so on until the entire hymn of many stanzas was sung. 

The preacher would take the "mourner" or "convert" on "probation," 
later if he did not "backslide" he was taken into "full connection" with 
the church. 

There were several Indians here when Mr. Denton came. The older 
boys used to go over to the "Camp." The Indians could talk English brok- 
enly. They were lazy as a usual thing, letting the squaws do all the work, 
making everybody happy about him. 

Mr. Denton married Sarah Carl in 1865, they have therefore been 
married over fifty-six years. 

"Uncle Jimmy" is a fine old man. He sits and sings most of the time. 

* 

ROBERT POE 

Mr. Poe was born in Wayne County, in Indiana, July 24, 1839; came 
with his parents to Grant County in 1842 and settled one mile north of 
Roseburg. They took a claim on what is now the Sam Burrier place, in 1845. 

About the first thing he remembers is the Indians. They would come 
to his father's home for food and would tease him by telling him they 
would carry him off. ..„.,., ., 

Mr. Poe remembers the awful "Freshet of 1847." His father said: 
"The boats sailed on what is now known as the northwest corner of the 
public square." James Sweetser had a store where the First National bank 
building is now and they rowed boats in front of his store. This was at 
the New Year and was called the "New Year's Fresh." 

He has heard his narents tell many times of the falling stars of iS .1. 
People were scared, thinking the end of the world had come. Mr. Poe 



thinks it was probably a warning of some sort. 

He also told of the cold New Year of 1864. He nearly froze that 
morning, he went out to cut a back log for the fireplace which did not take 
over ten minutes. When he got back to the house his fingers were frozen. 
He could have broken them off. 

He saw the total eclipse of the sun on August 7, 1869. It was about 
three o'clock in the afternoon and for awhile all was as dark as midnight. 
The chickens even went to roost. That afternoon a rather rough fellow 
had come to buy a load of corn of Mr. Poe and while they were in the corn 
pen it began to grow dark. Finally the fellow said, "What in the name of 
God is the matter?" Then Mr. Poe, knowing he was a wicked man, said 
weirdly, "Time is no more," and after noting the effect told him what was 
really occurring. 

Mr. Poe remembers Marion when it was just a village. He has seen 
Davy Conner, Martin Boots, Sammy McClure, Jimmy Sweetser and the 
founders of the town. 

He passed through Kokomo when it contained just six cabins. The 
"bush" was yet on the public square. 

He knew Chief Meshingomesia. He was a peaceful Indian but would 
"tank up" once in a while. He seems to have had "white man's money,"" 
for it was said he offered a white man a half bushel of silver dollars if he 
would marry his adopted daughter. 

When asked if he ever saw a "ghost," Mr. Poe replied: "I've never seen 
anything uglier or scarier than myself." He remembered the first murder 
in Howard County, the report having been brought to Grant County by- 
some friends of the Poe family. 

Mr. Poe is a second cousin to the Ohio Poe who slew "Big Foot," an 
Indian brave, in a terrible struggle in pioneer days. 

He remembers plainly the administration of Buchanan. His first vote 
was cast for Lincoln in the first election. "Everything looked 'scary' then, 
worse than the last war, for there were rebels right among us; there were 
Knights of the Golden Circle, many of them, i-ight here in Grant County." 
Mr, Poe belonged to the Roseburg Home Guard. "I have been a Republican 
from the beginning of the oarty and intend to remain one." 

The Wesleyan Methodist is the first church he remembers. His par- 
ents belonged to it. "We had REAL meeting, REVIVALS then. People 
were really converted. Now the church has to work hard to convert folks 
and then they won't stay converted." 

"Well, this is a GOOD world, anyhow." 



MOUNDS 

The largest of mounds found in Grant County is that one found two 
miles south and one mile west of Upland, in Jefferson Township. About 
forty years ago the mound was five or six rods in diameter and about fifty 
feet high. At that time it was covered with all kinds of timber. 

After people began settling near the mound they began clearing away 
the timber. The dirt was carried about a quarter of a mile. There is a 
basin near, rather deep, and at that time it was covered with trees, the 
same as the mound. The supposition of the old settlers was that the dirt 
in the mound was carried from where the basin is now. 

People owning the land cleared the mound and for years have plowed 
it down until at the present time it is merely nothing but a small hill. In 
plowing and digging the mound many relics of the mound builders have 
been found, such as darts, hatchets, gun-barrels and bones. 

The darts were just ordinary shaped ones like those found in later 
years. The hatchets were made of stone, mostly of blue granite. They 
were large and rudely shaped. The guns were the old-fashioned flint-lock 
guns. 

The owner of the mound gave many people permission to dig into it. 
One day two men were given permission to dig. They dug a trench north 
and south about four feet deep. After digging they found a part of a 
skeleton of a man, the thigh bone, ball and socket joint, and many small 
bones. When the small bones were exposed to the air they immediately 
crumbled. The ball and socket ojint and thigh bones were taken to a 
physician in Upland and he estimated the bones were of a man at least nine 



feet tall and weighing not less than three hundred pounds and the man 
was not fleshy. 

A stone smoking pipe was found. The bowl of the pipe was two and 
a. half inches in diameter and the stem was six or seven inches long. It 
was made in the shape of a letter (L) and of blue granite stone. 

Under the place where the bones and pipe were found was a bed of 
boulders, from the size of a hen egg to the size of a man's head, being 
cemented together. The old settlers thought the mound builders had their 
■valuables hidden under this bod of boulders. No on has been able to break 
the boulders with a pick. The pipe was taken to Marion and ten dollars 
was given for it. 

There is another mound a short distance down the river from the 
large one. This mound is much smaller than the one just mentioned. In it 
was found a silver wheel, made like a buggy wheel, and cut from silver. 
It was four incl es in diameter. — Irene Pearson. 



A HAUNTED HOUPE 

There is a small brick house in Marion, Indiana, which was believed 
to be haunted until a few years ago, when the owner moved away. 

Several different nights one summer, about eight yeai-s ago, queer 
sounds were heard. Often on clear nights a continuous sound was heard, 
as if water were dropping on the top of the bed, which would only cease 
when a lamp was lighted. At other times a sound, like the hissing of a 
snake would be heard in one corner of a certain room, where nothing could 
he found capahle of making such a sound. 

The most startling of these mysteries was told by my grandmother, 
who lived in the house at the time. This is what she said: "1 was sitting 
at my supper table one evening in the early summer of 1912. 
The sun had just set and it was not dark yet out of doors when I heard 
something peck on the door-glass. I supposed it to be one of my little 
grandsons and did not go to the door. In a minute or two I heard the 
pecking again, followed by a rattling of the door-knob. I opened the door 
and a strange gust of wind passed me, although no wind was blowing that 
evening. There was no one in sight. That night as I put out the light 
and went to bed, I heard distinct footsteps as if a heavy man were walking 
back and forth across the other rooms, which continued all night long. I 
began to become somewhat afraid and called, 'Who is in the house?' but 
the footsteps did not cease, and I got no reply. I lay there almost afraid 
to move until the sun came up. Then the footsteps seemed to die away 
slowly. I did not stay there another night." 

Several other persons have heard these strange sounds, but since the 
owner, Mr. Bittal, who was a spiritualist, sold it and moved to another 
part of the country, no one has heard anything. 

—Eugene Wilson (1921). 



FUGITIVES 

Samuel McClure, one of the oldest settlers, had a farm northwest of 
Marion. During the Civil War he had an "underground railway" station. 
He kept the fugitives over night or as long as necessary before taking 
them to the next station. 

Another station in the county was owned by Mr. Oren, living north- 
west of Upland. Mr. Oren had a very large cabin in the woods, and as the 
woods were very thick they were not afraid of the fugitives being found. 
He (Mr. Oren) kept them there for a favorable time for moving. The 
fugitives were transported in covered wagons and in loads of hay and corn. 
A story has been handed down that Mr. Oren told his sons to feed the 
fugitives one night. As the boys were not in sympathy with the plan of 
hiding the •"•gitives they did not take them food. Next morning Mr. Oren 
went tn s e if the negroes were all right. They answered they were all 
right but mighty hungry. The boys never forgot to feed the fugitives after 
that. 



A NARROW ESCAPE 

One day during the summer of 1883 two brothers went down along 



the Mississinewa river, about three miles north of Marion. The older boy, 
who was about twelve years of age, and the younger one, who was nine, 
had gone down to the "Devil's Backbone," a large hill about half a mile 
from their home. They had gone down there with their father and then 
they went over to the river. ■ 

Walking on the bank of the river the boys, who had been playing 
with their dog, suddenly stopped for they saw two long objects hanging 
in a bush a short distance away from them. 

The boys soon discovered the objects were two blue racer snakes, and 
the younger boy, intending to have a little fun by teasing the snakes, 
piicked up a few rocks and began throwing at them. The snakes crawled 
down from the bush into the grass and very slowly started toward their 
tormentor. Becoming frightened, he hastily dropped the stones, turned 
around and started to run up the high bank away from the snakes. 

The snakes, when they saw the boy run from them, quickly gave 
chase,. gliding swiftly through the grass and rapidly gaining on the retreat- 
ing boy. They chased him for about sixty yards when they suddenly saw 
an enemy coming towards them. 

The faithful dog, when he saw his playmates in danger, started after 
the snakes nd soon killed both of then:. This gave the boy a lesion not to 
play with snakes or to run from them, for no doubt if he had "stood his 
ground" the snakes would have been afraid to attack him. 



HOW CART CREEK GOT ITS NAME 
Once an old pioneer was driving an old two-wheeled ox-cart. The 
roads were very muddy and as he was fording the creek the cart got 
mired in the midst of it. He tried and tried to pull out but finally had to 
unhitch his oxen and leave the cart there. Passers by noticed the cart and 
finally gave the creek the name of Cart Creek. 

— Told to Juanita Mackey by Mr. Wm. Brinker. 

•^— 

HOW DEER CREEK GOT ITS NAME 
Deer Creek was named by the Indians because so many deer seemed 
to collect about this stream in an early day. — David Harris. 



HOW BACK CREEK GOT ITS NAME 
Back Creek got its name from the fact that the water from the 
Mississinewa backed up in it before the country was drained. 

— David Harris. 



A PIONEER STORY 

Mr. and Mrs. Hannah Thomas came to Grant County with three small 
children in 1829, and settled about three or four squares north, and one 
square west of the Washington street bridge close to a large spring. 

Some months after, one evening about milking time, Mrs. Thomas 
went after the cows which were grazing in the forest and after searching 
some time she became lost. She had wandered in an easterly direction to 
a place just south of Massy Creek. Soon night overtook her, but at length 
she found a few horses and cows which belonged to John Pearson. One of 
the horses was tame and had a bell on his neck and she caught it and kept 
hold of it until daylight, to protect her from the prowling animals. 

In the meantime Mr. Thomas became alarmed at her absence and called 
the neighbors in search of her. They took their horns and started out to 
find her. She said she could hear their horns but could not make them 
hear her. 

Next morning about eight o'clock Enos Massy, then a. lad about seven- 
teen years old, found her and brought her safely home. 

(Told to Carl Jackson by Marcus Thomas, grandson of the above 
parties.) 



A HAUNTED (?) HOUSE 
(By William Dubois.) 

One time my grandparents moved to a house that was said to be 
haunted. One night my grandfather had to go away so he told the hired 



hand to be sure not to leave the house. 

After supper grandmother saw that the "hand" was going away so she 
made up her mind to go to bed and not be afraid. 

During tlie night she heard a pounding on the house. She was fright- 
ened for rumor had it that the man who built the house died before it was 
finished and his ghost came back to finish the work. Needless to say, grand- 
mother slept no more than night. 

In the morning they investigated and found that a loose board near 
the foundation was the cause. The little pigs were in the habit of going 
through this crack under the house for the night. When they came out the 
board would fly back and hit the house, and this explained the "ghost." 



ANOTHER GHOST STORY 

Not far from here there was a farm for sale, the owner being dead. 
One of the neighbors wanted to buy the farm, but the house was said to 
he haunted, for an obiect in white had been seen to descend from the loft. 

F'pfllly a number of peoole decided to investigate and sure enough 
the white form descended as from the ceiling. The crowd all ran except 
one m.?n who was just drunk enoup-h to be fearless. He approached the 
ghost with a revolver and demanded who or what it was. The "ghost" 
ouicl'ly found sneech and exnlained that he was let down with a rope by 
another man in the loft. Their purpose was to "haunt" the place so it could 
be bought cheaply. 



OLIVER SMITH DAVIS 

Remembrances of Mr. Oliver Smith Davis, who was boi'n in Liberty 
Township in Grant County, Indiana, November 9, 1851. 

"I was born in a log cabin which my father, with the help of other 
men. had buiU. There was only one room, about fourteen fp'^t square, and 
we slent, ate and cooked there. There was only one door which was made 
oof slabs and fa^t^nod on with wooden hine'es nailed on to the cabin. Some 
were pinned on with wooden pins. The door wa« latched with a wooden 
latch which w?s nailrd to the door and dropped in a p'ece of wood in a 
"TT" shane. nailed to the inside of the house. A string was attached to the 
latch and a hole bored in the door and the string- hune on the outside. When 
coming in, one pulled down on the string and the door would come open. 
When the latch string was outside it meant 'welcome.' 

"One small window about two feet snuare was all the light we had. 

"There was a firenlace abort six feet lorp- in one side of the room 
which was used for cooking and heating the cabin. 

"A crane hi^ng in the firenlace. upon which we hnn"- nots for boiling 
meat, notatopc etc. When we roasted meat we would tw'ist a cord and tip 
it to the mppt and hang it in front of the fireplace and the strina: wc^ld 
twi'-t and un+wist until the meat was roa«tpH. Pios hr^ad and oth^r oastry 
v'pvp b^ked in a large skillet with an iron lid. covered with coals from the 
fireplace. 

"I rememb^^r whpn mother stood at the cabin door and picked a gallon 
of blar'i-b'^rries to make nies for sunner. 

"The roads that we had to travp] were very narrow for a long time; 
they remained in this condition unt'l the nioneers had t'me to ''"+ thern 
wider. T remember whon they made a corduroy road at Twentieth and 
Washin"-ton streets. Thpy started logs rollinfr down n^til thpy sani- in 
t>^e mud and thi« made the road more easy to travel. When they removed 
these logs thpy made irravel roads and charged toll. 

There was an oH colored man that hauled some grain from Marion 
tot Wabash bpfore the roads were imnroved. He wa^ dreaming and not 
thinkinp- •■■■■i-->-" he was going when his wagon wheel suddenly wpnt in a r^t 
pnH hp ' '' ' <T. Fp V.it the ground with a thump and theii p-ett'""- to his 
feet e— ' ■--'ed, "Well, if it hadn't been for my pocketbook I would have 
bee" ' ■'V'^V' 

"''"''e boys played with whatever we could find and the eirls put their 
mother's anrons on their cats .-rd nl«ypd until they tired of this and then 
dresspf^ c'ldm-iViers and pumnl-ins fnr dolls. 

"Motl^pr had some tin-tvne nictur»« tat-en of n-p nV^Mren >>"t c^P 
wouldn't let us touch them. One day after ma and pa had been out making 



maple syrup they came in and asked who touched the pictures. Julia (my 
.--bier) ibaiu that I had and I denied it. Pa said, 'i\uw I Know Julia woulun t 
tcii a he.' Jtie was getting reauy t owhip me so 1 said that I had touched 
i..em to keep juiia ±rom getting a whipping, tor she touclied them and had 
tela a story. 

"I started to school when I was five years old but took the 'fever' and 
had to quit. Ihe school house was made of logs with only four windows 
anu o/.e uoor. The seats were logs split in two w.th pins driven in for legs. 

"Again I started to school at nine years, but had forgotten everything 
I knew and had to begin with the A, B, C's. We started our lessons in a 
louu wnisper, except spelling, and that was done aloud. We sang geography 
by namUig the state capital and rivers. 

"About ti.e hardest punishment children ever received vv^as to stand 
and look through the key hole. A cross old maid, Iheressa Arnett, made 
me stand and look throug:h the key hole for about an hour. I curned my 
head around and she punished me for that. 

"Ihere wes a colored boy that sat en the bench in front of me. I had 
a darning needle with a string in it and fastened it to my coat and gave it 
a flip and it stuck in his heaa. 1 jerked the string and he rubbed and 
scratched his head but never knew what did it. 

"In 1&G4 thtre was a very cold New Year. Some time in the night 
t" e rain had turned to snow and about eight inches of the 'beautiful' fell, 
'ihe ne::t morning it was 26 decrees below zero. 

"In 1863 practically nothir.g at all was raised because thrre was a 
fr jst every month of the year. There was not enough feed raised for the 
st )ck. People left their hogs in the woods and they ate acorns until they 
were gone and then starved. Horses were wintered on straw and cows on 
bran and chaff. The hogs that were killed for meat had sides so thin that 
when t?ey were held up to the light one could see through them. 

"Throe Quaker meeting-houses were built about the same time — Oak 
Ridge, Deer Creek and South Marion. The services were silent unless the 
Spirit moved some one. They prayed and shook hands with everyone and 
then went home. 

"In those days Quakers were not allowed to marry outside the church 
unless the other one would join the church. When a young man and woman 
wished to marry they had to speak to the elderly people in the church, and 
they brought it before the meeting and discussed it. If no one objected 
they could marry, but if they did object the couple had to keep it up until 
they were permitted. 

"One summer day an old man was standing close to a window in a 
church. It was during the service that a bumble bee flew in and lit on his 
sleeve. The old man had his hands behind him and knew nothing that was 
goino- on, but we boys could see it and had to stuff our handkeichiefs in our 
months to keep from laughing. The bee crawled down his sleeve to his hand 
and sti^ng him. The old man jumped and said 'Golly' and our ma's and 
^p.'s did not scold us much for laughing because they knew how funny 
It was. 

"When any one at home was sick we had to get on horseback to get 
t^ e doct'^r. He rode a horse, too, and hung his pill-bag on the back of 
the saddle. 

"There were a few doctors who owned what they called a "gig." This 
w?s a two-wheeled cart. One's feet hung down on a board that was fas- 
tened to the seat. 

"When anyone died some one made a casket of plain wood and lined 
'■^ with white muslin. The corpse was placed in it and was nailed up and 
then was hauled to the cemetery in a wagon." 

This was told by Mr. Davis himseK. who is an active man for his age, 
and now lives a short distance south of the Marion College. 

NAOMI RENTFROW-GOUDY 

Naomi Rentfrow (now Mrs. Goudy) was bora in Kosciusko County, 
Indiana, in 1853, and moved to Fox Station, Grant County, when she was 
almost thirteen years old. She is of Dutch descent and says her father 
could "sure jabber" Dutch but he never taught it to any of the children. 
About half of their farm was timber. 

She attended school at Fox Station and learned the three R's. "That's 



all we studied, but 'betcha' we got them good, too." 

She wore flannel dresses and linsey petticoats and sometimes she 
helped spin and color the yarn, but they always sent it away to have it 
woven. 

Twice when she was quite young she saved the life of one of her 
sisters. Once her sister fell in a huge iron kettle of water which they kept 
under the water spout. Mrs. Goudy, then about five years old, pulled her 
out by her feet and saved her from drowning. Another time this sister 
fell into a creek. It came about this way: The children were out playing 
and were crossing the creek on a slippery loc. The sister fell in and again 
Mrs. Goudy came to her rescue, caught hold of her sister's hair and pulled 
her out. 

The church which she attended was in an Indian settlement but the 
preacher was a white man. She remembers esoecially an old Indian who 
attended church there with his two souaws. He always went to church 
first, then one of his squaws would follow some distance behind him, then 
the other souaw followed her, always keeping about the same distance be- 
tween the first squaw as there was between the first squaw and the Indian 
husband. Both of the squaws wore bright yellow scarfs or 'kerchiefs tied 
about their heads. 

When Mrs. Goudy came to Grant County she can remember very 
plainly that the trees at the Mississinewa battle ground were full of shot 
and in one place the ground was sunken and she was told that the white 
men buried a cannon there to prevent the Indians from taking it. 

She heard the story of an Indian girl: The girl had been in town and 
was going home drunk. She wandered away from the regular path and was 
going towards a hollow in which there was a regular snake den. A couple 
of men tried to stop her but could not and she went into the hollow only 
to be killed by the snakes. 

One night as Mrs. Goudy was going home from church through the 
"twisty" lanes' she knew that she was followed by a boy who wanted to go 
with her, and knowing this, girl-like, she ran from him and succeeded in 
arriving at her home first, but the boy was not to be outwitted so he stop- 
ped at her home for a drink and of course he "took a chair" and stayed 
awhile while Naomi finished up some of the work. Finally he followed her 
to the smoke-house and wanted to know if he could stay awhile. "I was 
just plagued to death, but OF COURSE I let his stay and he was my FIRST 
beau," she finished. 

She says, "I believe there used to be such things as ghosts." And then 
she told this story of a "haunted house": "Once upon a time( since this 
is the way all good and well-behaved ghost stories begin) a man starved to 
death one of his relatives in this house and since the ghost of this woman 
was hungry it came back to the house and hunted for food. Most people 
were afraid of the house and would not live in it, but one family moved in 
anyway and these are some of their experiences: At night, especially dark 
and gloomy nights, if they were all gathered together in one room, there 
would be a noise as if some one were dropping pans in one of the other 
rooms and if they investigated and went into the room from which the noise 
seemed to come, then they heard it from another room, as if the ghost were 
running from them. One night they heard this peculiar noise in the dining 
room and one man went quickly to the dining room door, and swore, tell- 
ing the ghost (if ghost it was) to get what it wanted and go. When he 
reached the door he saw a figure walk around the table to the pantry door 
and then very calmly disappear but after that the ghost did not come so 
often," — Story told to Evelyn Lytle. 



WASHINGTON TOWNSHIP. GRANT COUNTY 

Washington is typical of many other townships in the stnte. The 
early settlers came from the states of Pennsylvania, Virginia. Ohio. Ken- 
tucky and some from states farther south and in making for thonisolves 
homes necessarily had to endure many hardships and privations incident 
to pioneer life. 

We of the present generation can not realize, or scarcely imagine, the 
disadvantages and inconveniences under which our grandparents and great- 
grandparents labored. I 



Being men and women of . hardihood, industry, anad integrity they 
went to work to hew down the forest, to establish- homes in which they 
could rear their families and secure for themselves the blessings of life 
which come as the result of honest toil. 

I know of no better WEy to impress upon the mind of the present 
generation the diflflcnlties unr'er which the pioneer labored than by contrast- 
As already indicated the land was heavily timbered which, when re- 
moved, left many stumps and roots making the cultivation of the soil very 
difficult; now a farmer can plow for days without encountering a stump 
or root. 

There were no roads, making travel difficult and sometimes dangerous. 
Now we have gravel, stone, concrete and asphalt roads. Instead of the old 
wooden, spike-tooth harrow ve have the disc or cultivator; instead of the 
single plow we have the two-row cultivator; instead of the old cast-iron 
plow we have the tractor; instead of the ox-cart or two-horse wagon we 
have the auto-truck, or Ford sedan, or the limousine; instead of getting 
mail once a month, perhaps, we have the daily papers delivered at our door. 

In those days they grew the flax, pulled it up, spread it out on the 
ground for the woody fiber to get brittle, after which they broke, spun 
and wove it into cloth, called linsey and linen. Likewise the sheep were- 
sheared, the wool washed, picked, and made into rolls, spun, colored, woven 
and made into clothing for both men and women. All of this was done by 
hand. Now we can go into a department store and get anything we want 
ready-made. 

Then they had log cabins to live in, with tallow candles for light; now 
we have palatial residences lighted with electricity. There were no heating 
or cooking stoves then; the houses were warmed, the cooking and baking 
done, by fire-places; now our houses are heated by a furnace or base burner 
and cooking and baking done on a nickel-plated stove or range. 

Many other things might Ve mentioned by way of contrast that would 
show what men and women had to endure in the development of the coun- 
try and the marvelous progress made in the last century, but the people 
were seemingly as happy and contented then as they are now. 

The first school in Washington Township was taught by Ellen Love in 
a cabin on the Robert Massey farm, with about a d^zen pupils enrolled. 
The first school house built was on the farm of John Endsly. It was a log 
structure and cost about $40. A lare-e fireplace took up one-half of one 
end of the room. The benches on which the children sat were slabs split 
from logs with legs three feet long fastened to them. There were no backs 
to these seats and the childrens' feet dangled six inches from the floor. A 
board was placed around the wall for a writing desk. Goose quills were 
sharpened and used for pens. Spelling, reading, writing and arithmetic 
v/ere the only branches taught and the children studied out loud. The first 
school was taught in the winter of 1837. 

It was the custom when a new teacher came to a school to lock him 
out until he stood "treat." If he refused he was punished by the children. 
The punishment rivaled the hazing in the colleges of today. He usually 
came around with a supply of candy and fruit. 

In those days diplomas were not given, but finally it was brought up 
in the institutes and a certain course of study planned which, when com- 
pleted, the child was to receive a diploma. 

The first church was built by the United Brethren and Wesleyan Meth- 
odists in 1850. 

Bethlehem, a Methodist Protestant church, was built in 1852. George 
Coonn, George Hobaugh, V. P. Hobaugh, Wesley Allen and their families 
were leading members. Ezra Conn was one of the first preachers. 

Morris Chapel, Methodist Episcopal was built in 1864. Some of the 
early members were Frank Helm, Abraham Bish, Gasper Bradford, Sr. The 
first trustees were J. E. Stallings, C. W. Bowman and Moses T. Bradford. 
Some of the other church were: Fletcher (Methodist Episcopal), Fairview 
(Wesleyan Methodist), Salem (United Brethren), and Union Chapel 
(United Brethren and Quakers). 

— Mr. 0. L. Bish contributed this (Age 75 years). 



A HISTORY OF SOUTH MARION AND SURROUNDINGS, AND 

CIVIL WAR STORIES AS TOLD BY MR. AND MRS. FRANK NAUS, 

AGED RESPECTIVELY, SEVENTY-FIVE ANl> SIaTY-EIGHT 

In 1894, when these settlers moved to Marion, on Forty-first and Har- 
mon streets there were oniy two houses south of Forty-first street. The 
rest was all in lots which were used for gardening. The first tree planted 
in that district was planted by Mr. Naus in front of their home. He planted 
most of the trees which now stand on the college campus. 

In tiiis same year (1894) the new College building was dedicated. The 
original collejje grounds contained fi\e hundred and sixty-two lots besides 
the campus, in 18i/2 these lots were put up for sale. Each was valued a1 
$1.C, although the selling prices varied. The:e lots extended from Thirty- 
eighth street south to loity-sixth and from Harr.son street east to 
^iebrasi.a. 

A little later a street car line was built on Gallatin street. This in- 
cluded the College and Soldiers' Home distr:ct. The Union Traction, which 
was also here at that time, ran in opposition to them and put on penny 
faies, and they finally drove them out. 

Mrs. Naus lived in Wells county during the time of the Civil War, in 
a little t3wn called Ossian, within equal distance of Decatur, Bluffton, Fort 
Wayne and Huntington. All but the latter were "rebel" towns. When 
the "Yanks" had won they could hear it in Huntington. 

When Morgan made his boast of tearing up Indiana as the Shenandoah 
Valley had been desolated, the people in Ossian became frightened. They 
prepared by making ready bucl ets of water for they believed their little 
town would be burned and they lived under such conditions and strain for 
many days and nights. But fortunately Morgan's plans were thwarted. 

In this district was a place called "Pigeon Roost." It was a very dense 
thicket and it was very dangerous to get lost in it. 

This was a place of safety fcr deserters from the army. 

When Lincoln was assassinated every one was greiving for him and 
every little church and school held memorial services. But one old Irish 
l»dy, who was very disloyal to our country, draped her dog in black and 
tied him to a little out-house which was also draped in black. This was 
a deep insult and the neighbors keenly felt it. 

The schools then were bad. They only had three-month terms and one 
seldom got a good teacher because they were so poorly paid and had to 
"board 'round." 

The church was generally held once a month or sometimes not so often, 
owing to the circuit riders who went on horseback then and had to cover 
several districts. 

Similar conditions prevailed all over Indiana. 



STORIES OF EARLY DAYS IN MARION 

About the year 1850 my aunt, Mary Rush, then only a small girl of 
about eight years of age, moved from Morgan county, Indiana, to Grant 
county. 

It was the custom in those days to take all the live stock with them 
v/hen they moved. This family proved no exception to the rule. So bring- 
ing all their cattle, horses, and even an old sow with l.'tt'e pigs, they mi- 
grated to this county and arrived early in the spring. Everything went 
nicely until that fall when one day the sow and her pigs were found to be 
missing. Hunting high and low, the only trace that could be found of her 
was that a neighbor had seen her and her pigs headed south. Giving her 
up for lost, the family thought nothing more of the matter until the next 
spring, when they received a letter from the relation liv'ng in the home 
they had come from saying that the sow alone had opened the gate and 
said "Howdy do" to them. 

That summer, my uncle, coming to this county, while crossing the 
bridge at Fall Creek, where Indianapolis now stands, came across a litter 
of pigs about a year old. Recognizing them as the pip-s of this old sow, he 
sold to some farnily there, then came on and told his tale to t'^e family here. 
Then it was surmised that the sow had wandered away to find her old 
home and had walked through the main street of what is now Indianapolis, 
ana arriving at the bridge at Fall Creek had loft her pigs nn th's s'H'^. not 



being able to persuade them to cross, and had gone on home. 

This story goes to prove that pigs do have some instinct after alL 
Find me a pig noMadeys that could find her way home if you should take 
her a hundred miles away. No, it could not be done, for all the pigs today 
are too fat. — Told by John Ferree, Senior, M. H. S. 1920. 



DR. JACOB BUROKER — SEVENTY-FOUR YEARS OLD 

Dr. Buroker was born near Converse and has lived in Grant County- 
all his life. He has lived for years at Sweetser. 

He went to school in a little log school house with "split lynn" benches 
which had pegs for legs. There was a big fireplace in one end of the house- 
which held a big "back log." 

He got lots of "lickins" because he needed them and because it was 
the custom to "lick youngens." The teachers were rather stern and de- 
manded obedience which was a good training for the boys and girls. School 
lasted only two or three months. 

He worked on a farm, helping to clear the land. There were log- 
rollings where the "little brown jug" was used freely. Sometimes the 
men got "tipsy" and lay in the shade until they s^^bered off. 

"Picking tr?sh" was the work he dreaded most as a boy. This consisted 
in picking up limbs, chunks and roots from recently cleared lands. The sun 
would shine like blazes and he would sweat at the task. 

Dr. Buroker says that one omen has always preceded h^d luck in his 
life. Whenever he dreams of an old sow, ill luck always follows. 

In his dream the animal usually comes at him with open mouth. 

These dreams would occur at irregular intervils, sometimes long inter- 
vals occuring between. He says he has not dreamed of the old sow for a 
long time now. 

He said he never was afraid of anything. That was the trouble; he 
should have been afraid of himself. 

He rememhers the Indians well. One time his father put him on be- 
hind an Indian to ride when he was a little fellow but he was not afraid. 
The Indians had a c?mp close to his home. At night they would turn 
tl^eir nonies loose to brrwp-e and quite often they would come up to the 
Buroker home and annoy them by getting into things. 

The Indians did not work, except to hunt. 

Dr. Buroker's mother belonged to the Hard S^-ell Baptist church. 
There were no churches in those days so the preachers wonld nreach in 
th" school houses. "What is to be will be if it never comes to pass." But 
these old Hard Shells were quite liberal in SOME things and generally kept 
a bottle in the cupboard. Outsiders usually called them "Seven Gallot 
Baptists," even though they were the Elect. 

Roads in these early days were bad. Sometimes logs were -oiled in the 
road-bed so wagons could travel over them. These were called "corduroy," 
or "cross-lain" roads. Sometimes it took nearly the entire day to go from 
Sweetser to Marion in a big wagon ; horseback was quicker. A few persons 
—aristocrats — owned "spanker" or spring wagons. 

Dr. Buroker was in the Civil War for twenty months. In 1864 he 
traveled from Nicholsville, Ky., to Kenesaw, Neb. It was all right then 
but he would not care to live it all over again. 

His philosophy was expressed in the following words: A correct life, 
and a good conduct, are the avenues to success. Never treat anyone wrong. 
It rebounds. Do as you would be done by. 

This is a pretty good world, but I believe there is a better. 1 have 
evidence that makes me sure. 

Dr. Buroker is now a well-preserved old man, with charming person- 
ality. He cheerfully answered all questions his interrogators asked and 
'referred us to others that might give assistance to early Grant County life. 

THE PIONEERS OF GRANT COUNTY 

The first people we know anything about in Grant County is the mound 
builder The mounds were oval shaped and varying in diameter from ten 
to sixtv feet The largest mound was found where the present court house 
now stands." This was ten feet in height and the interior revealed layers 
of gravel charcoal and human skeletons about seven or eight feet m length. 



- ^1 .^ ?^^" *"^^ "^ Indians in Grant County was the Miamis. They were 
-mtluential, and superior in intellifrence and moral characteristics. 

ihe pioneer home was made of unhewn logs, while greased paper 
served for the windows. There was very little furniture. Sometimes the 
home had an upsta.rs, and a ladder served as the stairsteps. In the winter 
time when sleeping upstairs one would sometimes wake up in the morning 
to find abovt ten inches of snow for a blanket. There was always a very 
Jarge fireplace in the home. The logs were put in the fireplace on "dog 
irons which raised them a little so as to allow the heat to come from 
under the logs. Here all the cooking and baking was done. 

The bread was mostly made of cornmeal, such as cornbread, corn- 
dodger or corn pore. Biscuits were only baked once a week. When the 
corn dodger was baked, three large balls of corn meal, water and salt 
were placed m a skillet and coals placed or heaped around the top of the 
Jid And how delicious when done. People knew very little about knives 
;and forks. Everyone ate out of the same dish. 

The pioneers spun their own thread and wove their own cloth. The 
-mittens, stock n s, etc., were knitted by hand. 

The hi-jhwsys were mostly corduroy or dirt roads. In November, 1830, 
the first county riad was established; the first grav-1 in 1869, and the first 
railroad m 1856, by the Cincinnati, New Castle and Michigan Company. 

Feing a Oua'-er and a member of the Friends' church I am more 
famili-r w th its h'story. 

tition dividing the church into two sections. The partition could be raised 
tition bividing the churlh into two sections. The partition could be raiised 
when needed. The women sat on one side of the church and the men on 
the other side. 

The ladies wore large silk bonnets, and some of the older Quaker ladies 
still wear snail bonnets today. The men wore widebrimmed hats during the 
whole service unless he wanted to take it off then he placed it under his 
seat. They always carried their handkerchiefs in the top of their hats. The 
coats the men w^re had no collars. The Quakers were v-ry particular about 
the r dress. When one of the men felt like preaching he would ask per- 
mission of the ladies which they granted. Then the gentleman delivered hia 
:sermon and meeting was over. 

The Quakers married themselves. A day was set apart and everyone 
came. The man and woman each had a certain rit'ial to say. The man stood 
and said his part, then the woman arose and said her's and they were united 
in marriage. 

The fir.st school was conducted by William James in 1827-1828. The 
school house was a log cabin made of unhewn logs. The chimney was made 
of mud and sticks, and earthen hearth, and a fireplace large enousrh for six 
logs. Purchern or slrb boards served for seats. Every pupil studipd aloud 
and the one making the most noise was assumed to be studying the best. 
The only writing material was a slate, and when sp"lling everyone was to 
''toe the mark" that is stand in a straight line which q'-it° often was a crack 
jn the floor. Most of the teachers were rigid disciplinarians and used the 
rod with neatness and dispatch, much to the satisfaction of the parents 
who thought "lickin' and larnin' " went together and the boy usually re- 
ceived ore when he reached home. From such cahins most of America's 
most distinguished citizens have gone forth to grapple with the world and 
win honor for themselves and their country. 

There is quite a contrast between our grandfather's — yes, our great 
grandfather's day and the present in which we are living. 

(Told by Mr. B. C. Harris, age 75, also reference to William Neal's 
history of Grant County. Arranged by J. Pennina Chasey.) 

BRIEF HISTORY OF SWAYZEE 

In the year 1859, Jacob Grindle moved to a little settlement which 
as yet f'i 'n't have a name. There were only two log cabins and a saw mill, 
which he had built some time before. The surrounding country was a 
dense forest. 

Mr. Grindle built the first house there, beside his mill. The timber 
v/hich he used for building it had been cut at the mill. The house con- 
sisted of two room.s. a very large one upstairs, and one downstairs. The 



room downstairs was used for the dining room and kitchen. The room up- 
stairs was the sleeping room. One had to climb st'^ps from the outside to 
get to the room above, as there was no stairway inside. 

At first the people had to buy their groceries and the thines f^ey 
needed from a little town called Mier, which w?s four and one-half miles 
north of the settlement. They also got their mail from mier every Tuesday 
and Friday. Then later Mr. Grind! e used a room of hij home for a sort of 
a store and sold groceries to the people of the s^tt^ement. 

As the settlement grew the people began to think about naming it. 
They wanted to call it Grindleville but Mr. Grindle obiected to having it 
named for himse'f. Then a man by the name of Swayzee came to the set- 
tlement and bought the land so Swayzee was named for its owner. 

The first road built in Swayzee was a corduroy road. They cut logs 

in two, Icnethwise, and placed them across the road. In those days the 

people traveled in spring wagons and it was very rough riding on the roads. 

The first railroad built through Swayzee was the Clover Leaf, in 1880; 

at first it was a narrow guage. 

The house which Mr. Grindle built was changed to a hotel and stood 
where the Brown hardware store stands now, in the center of Swayzee. 

The streets of Swayzee have all been named but the names are not 
used enough for one to become acquainted with them. 

The Methodist Protestant church was the first church to be organized 
in Swayzee. It was organized in 1883 and dedicated in 1885. The church 
at this tim.e has several members, for the population of the town. The 
church was organized under Rev. J. F. Sulen, a pastor of Pine Creek 
charge of the M. P. church. In the fall of 1901 under the pastorate of 
.J. O. Ledhetter the ho^-se was rpbnilt. 

The Church of Christ, Christian church and Methodist Episcopal 
church were organized in SAvayzee and continue to hold their meetings. 

The first business room was moved in and occuT)ied the place where 
•the Interurban restaurant now stands. This was opened and operated by 
.Rastus. At the same time, 1881, Mr. Hall, from Sweetser, erected the 
building now known as the McKenney stand, and used it for a general 
store. John Kelley built a room iust across from the McKenney nroperty 
.and operated a general m.erchandise store. In this same year Galbreath 
and Bill Smith built where the bakery now stands. This composed the 
business district of Swayzee in the first year. Since then many buildings 
have been erected. 

The elevator was built in 1882. The money for this was donated by 
the citizens of the township. It was located due south from the present 
lumber yards. It burned in the fall of 1915. 

The old saw mill was built in 1881. This stood where the Clover Leaf 
car house now stands. 

The Feadin<? factory was the first of Swayz v'c factories. This was 
built in 1882. It stood where t^e old lumber yards were. 

The p^st-office was founded by George Steele while he was congress- 
man, and Mr. Curtess was postmaster. In 1884 the glass factory was started 
by R. J. Moins. This gave many men employment. In 1901 it was sold to 
Ball Bros., of Muncie, and moved to that city. 

In 1900 a market basket factory was started, but it remained only a 
short time. 

The first lumber company was in operatioon where the Rees property 
now stands. This burned in 1912 and was rebuilt on present location. It 
is now under the name of Grant County Lumber Company. 

The "Queen of the Gas Belt" canning factory was reorganized in 1903 
under the name of Swayzee Canning Company, with Wm. Hazen_ as presi- 
dent; H. F. Munea, treasurer, and W. J. Larkin as -Acretary. This factory 
burned in 1917. 

Many of the first business rooms have burned and been torn down, 
but better buildings replaced them. In the last year the new National Bank 
building has been erected and the Reedy garage. 

A branch from the Wab osh Basket factory was instal^e 1 in the bv.-iding 
just north of P. T. Mullin's furniture store. In the fall of 1920 it was 
taken away and incorporated with the one at Marion. 

— Leona Gosbin, DeVonia McCall. 



MRS. ELLEN BONNER 

Miss Ellen Felton was born April 25, 1854, in Wayne county, Indiana. 
At the age of three, she with her parents, moved three mdes weit of Hack- 
leman in Grant county, Indiana. Here her father cut down trees from ^ 
space large enough for a house to be built upon. He would stand in his 
back door and shoot wild deer, turl.eys anu hogs. 

Iheir home was a log house with greased papers for the windows. 
They had a fireplace in one room over which they cooked their mea's. 

Ellen went to school in a log school house. The seats were only 
benches. The teacher was so cross that he didn't give his pupils a pleasant 
look; but had a paddle to greet them with instead. 

When she walked to church in the summer time she would carry her 
shoes and put them on after she got there and wear them during the ser- 
vice, but when ready to start home she would take her shoes off and carry 
them, as every other child did at that time. 

Vyhen Ellen was but a tiny child her father was away from home one 
eight. She and her mother were left alone. They had only a heavy blanket 
or skin hung over the door for protection from cold and wild animals. Whi'e 
alone, an Indian chief and his squaw entered with their hatchets and other 
weapons. They saw that the mother was greatly frigVtened so they gave 
her their weapons to show her that they would not harm her. She had 
several squashes which the Indians cooked and ate. Then they wrapped 
up in their blankets and lay down upon the folor with their heads to t'^e 
fire and slept until morning, then they got up and left. They had known 
Ellen's grandfather and for this reason were friendly. 

Miss Felton married Mr. Certain. They moved to Marion several years 
ago. Later she married Mr. Bonner and now lives on Lincoln Boulevard, 
in Marion, Indiana. 



A PIONEER'S STORY 

This story was told nineteen years ago by Mary A. Easley, whose girl- 
hood days date back to the time of Jefferson. She died in 1902. 

Mary A. Easley, resident of Richland Township, was born in Pennsyl- 
vania during Jefferson's administration in the year 1803. Her maiden name 
was Miller. 

At the outbreak of the v.-ar of 1812 her parents moved to Wayne 
County, Ohio. This was her home until her removal to the farm where 
she still resides. When asked as to how many there were in her father's 
family, she said: "I had nine brothers and all of them had a sister." 

At the time of her girlhood, which was spent in Ohio; the country was 
woodland. Many deer and wolves roamed the forests and furnished excel- 
lent sport for hunters. Her fahiily owned a pet bear. Her story of how 
the pet was secured is as follows: 

"One day a neighbor boy was going to mill on horseback and on ap 
proaching our cabin looked across the branch and saw an old bear suckling 
three young ones. He came back to our cabin and told us what he had 
seen and my father and another man went across the branch to where he 
directed them. The little cubs were there but the old one was away. The 
next day they took ore of the cubs back to the place and made it whine 
to call her back, but she kept out of sight." 

The family kept the cub and it became a great pet and favorite in the 
.community. Miss Miller's father was a blacksmith and men found much 
pleasure in the antics of the bear, while waiting to have their work done at 
the shop. They would often chase bruin up a sapling and then chop it down. 
The bear always iumped before the tree reached the ground. His bear.-hip's 
fondness for chicken led him to a tragic end. One day while all of the boys 
were gone the bear broke his chain and entered the' chicken house. Here 
he caused great havoc by jumping from pole to pole in the roost and caused 
general consternation among the fowls. What was more, he could not be 
captured. The fahtre finally got a gun and shot the beast to stop his 
"orgie." 

The Ohio schools in thpse days were primitive in the extreme. The 
school houses were log cabins. The old fashioned fire pieces extended the 
whole length of one end of the house. The benches were made of logs 
snlit in two parts, the flat side beine up, and the slab supported bv wooden 
pins fastened in like chair posts. The luxury of having a back to" the seat 



while the child sat a half day without recess came many years later. 

The writing desk was along one wall of the room and was made by 
laying a board on wooden pins driven in auger holes in the wall. The win 
dows, of course, were made of greased paper. 

Miss Miller was married at an early age to Joseph Easley. They moved 
to Indiana and settled oon the farm yet owned by Mrs. Easley. It is lo- 
cated in the northwestern part of Richland Township, one-half mile west 
of the Taylor school house. Here they built a cabin in the forest and 
commenced to clear the land, and raise their first crop, having arrived in 
the spring. This was about the year 1840. The journey from Ohio to 
Indiana had been made in a wagon drawn by oxen. 

At that time farm life was quite a contrast to what we find it now. 
Oxen were used for the plowing. The grain was harvested with the sickle 
and htreshed with the flail. The clothing was all homespun. They raised 
the flax and did all the work of changing it into linen. They also carded 
their wool and spun the yarn. Besides weaving the cloth for the wearing 
apparel, the bed clothing was prepared in the same way. Women in those 
days also worked in the fields, and Mrs. Easley spent many a day laboring 
by the side of her husband in cultivating and harvesting the crops. At the 
time of their settlement saw mills were scarce and the nearest grist mill 
was a small one near where Jalapa is now located. The nearest town was 
Somerset in Wabash County, which then contained for or five cabins and 
a store. 

The log house in which Mrs. Easley lives was built shortly after the 
settlement of the farm. It is one of the oldest landmarks to be found. The 
present residence was built some years later. It is built with logs and was 
later weather-boarded, giving it a modern appearance. The walls of the 
rooms were wainscoated from floor to ceiling. The furniture is of an 
ancient pattern. The bureau and the corded bedsteads are of cherry. 

Eio-ht children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Easley, two of whom yet 
survive. The oldest son was struck by a limb and killed while working in 
the forest. Mr. Easley died twenty-three years ago and since that time 
she has lived with her only surviving son, William, until his death two 
years ago. 

From the time a stranger enters Mrs. Easley's door over which hangs 
a "Welcome" motto, which seems to bespeak the sentiment of the place, 
he is reminded that he is in the presence of one who is the last of a gen- 
eration long past. In such a home many of our great men have been 
reared. 



SKETCHES OF EARLY DAYS IN MARION 

The first h^gh school in Marion stood where the Central school is now 
located. It had two rooms and four teachers. It had two recitation rooms, 
wl-ere they studied Grammar, Reading, Arithmetic, Geograohy and Writing. 
There were about sixty pupils. The professor's name was I. W. Legg. 

The pupils went up to recitation benches to recite their lessons. The 
school was heated with large box stoves with drums around them. The old 
primary schools stood on both sides of the high school, and one is still 
standing on Frank Lenfesty's lot today. In front of the high school was a 
picket fence, and also a board fence was around the building. 

There was a plank road from Marion to Jonesb-^ro in 1864, and parts 
of it were rotted then. It was made of oak and pinned down with bolts 
of wood. There were no railroads in Marion then, and people made trips 
to Anderson twice a week in a stage coach. They started from the old 
Fred Love Tavern, which was used as a station, and where the Crawford 
book-store is now. The stage coach held about eight passengers and was 
pulled by six horses. 

The old court house stood where the court house stands now, was 
made of brick and was two stories high. On the first floor was the office 
of the Auditor, Treasurer. Clerk and Recorder. There was a well in the 
court house yard which can be seen today, and from wh^ch all the stores 
IT Marion carried water. They would pumo out rat fur from this well. 
Thp c^i^rf house yard was full of trees TVp onlv r,ov"^ c.-^ow"iVc — -. 
around the court house square. The flag-stones were taken out of the 
river to make the sidewalks. 

Dexheimer's studio and the McClure block are the buildings of the 



early days that are still standing. The Indians always traded at McClure s. 
Where the Interurban Cafe is now was the old Pierce dwelling house. The 
old Carey Homestead was where the Indiana theater is now In the corner 
of Washington and Third was the old Sweetser bank building. Next to 
this was the Norton general store. The next to this was the Aaron bwayzee 
shoe store. On the same side of the square was the old Bennett Drug btore. 
Where the Farmers' Trust Bank is now, was the Whisler and Cox under- 
taking and furniture store. On the south side of the square was John 
Kiley's saloon, then the Simon Kuntz bakery and old Tom Cameron s saloon 
These were all frame buildings. Mr. Miles had a shoe store on the east 
side of the square. The Original Goldthwaite was also on the east side. 
The Sohn's, (Jake and John) had a grocery store on the east side. Also 
Mr. Harmon Wigger had a store on this side. The old colored barber shop 
was on the north side and they got all the trade, both colored and white. 
Next to this was Nottingham's saddle and harness store. There Mr. Harve 
Marks had his grocery store. By the side of this was a grocery run by the 
Lenfesty brothers. The old W. W. Moore drug store was where the old 
men would loaf. Where Merritt's drug store is now, there was an old dry- 
goods store. James Sweetser's residence was where Swanger and McClam's 
is, or now, located, was one-half block long and had a porch big enough for 
one chair to sit on. 

There was an old select school on Branson and Sixth, taught by Miss 
Julia Norton. It was a small frame building sitting in a yard which was 
full of roses. It had two rooms, about twenty pupils, and a small cupboard 
with sliding glass doors, where all pupils kepth their books. The fire-wood 
was piled in one corner of the first room. It was a rare thing for the pupils 
to get to play, but when they did, they had to take the scissors and a piece 
of paper, go out and cut all the worms off the roses and bring them in 
and bimrn them. 

They had an old well from which the boys would carry the warter in a 
bucket. There was just one tin cup for all to use, and if any water was left 
in the cup, the next little fellow had to drink what was left. Every year, 
when school was out, they would all go on a picnic to the woods where the 
high school now stands. 

EARLY CHURCHES — The old Harmony church of Liberty Township 
was about the first church of this township. The preacher would come on 
horse-back for fifteen miles on Saturday evening and go back the next 
Monday morning. They had no musical instruments, but had small hymn 
books and all would stand up and sing at the top of their voices. The 
minister's name was Mr. Bear. 

MEALS^ — About all they had to eat was pork and corn-bread, because 
they had no wheat in those days. 

HOMES — They just had two rooms in an old log cabin, and all they 
had to furnish the house with was two beds and a ti'undle bed. They had 
no carpets, but scrubbed the floor every day. There was a clay chimney 
for the fire-nlace. The women spun the flax for their sheets and tablecloths. 

CLOTHING — There was a cloth made of cotton called "ling." They 
spun all the material for their clothes. Mrs. Phillips' father would buy 
bolts of fifty yards of cotton and muslin, and her mother would make the 
girls' dresses and color them purple and yellow with maple bark. All ladies 
wore small bonnets. The father made all the shoes. 

LABOR — They cleared the forest and made fields for cultivation. 
Often they would trap for bears and coons and took the hides to Muncie 
to sell them, while the meat was thrown away. 

MARRIAGES — Mr. and Mrs. Whybrew were married by the squire. 
He married most couples because ministers were very scarce. Mrs. Why- 
brew wore a very thin green flowered dress, and it cost sixty-five cents 
a yard, then she and her father went on horse-back to Jonesboro to get it. 
All the neighbors were at the wedding, and the next day the same bunch 
all went to the groom's home. Mr. Whybrew wore high boots of the finest 
quality, and a long-tailed coat. The dinner at the groom's house was called 
an "infair" dinner. 

(Told by Mrs. Lucinda Phillips, 72 Years of Age.) 
— Written by Margaret Bradford, Marion High School, 1920. 



JOHN W. EWARD (CONVERGE) 

John W. Eward was born September 6, 1836, at Greensburg, Decatur 

^^""iis^K'rr^die^I^4:i^ror.ronT^^^ had to worU 

'^^ VrermoTeTtTMarfon^'when he was just a little fellow T^e - Ar.^ 
job he had was grinding bark in a tannery for Hiram Weeks, father-in-law 
of Judge Brownlee, Sr. He worked for I21/2C a day and boarded himself. 
Then at tie end of the week he took his 75c and proudly gave it to h s 
mother. l?e second year he got 2U a day. Many a time m those days 
did he wheel H ram Brownlee in a little home-made cart with board wheals. 

After he was twelve years old he clerked in a grocery for a man named 
Koogler, a brother-in-law of Dave Hogin. . „ , n j u,. +i,o4- 

When a t:ny fellow he was nicknamed "Betsy," and was called by that 
name for many Jears. It came about in this way: He always wore a lit le 
slip of home-sptn liren. Ee would oiten run off and go to Warren Old- 
ham's grocery ^( where the Spencer House now stands . Oldham would put 
hfm upon the^ounter and give him candy and call him his "Little Betsy 

Marion wrs then a little village of 300 or 400 people It was bu It 
of log and frame houses. His fatl er burnt the first brick ever used m 
Liion, at Fourth and Race streets. He and George Wmchell's father were 

P^^'^ ^Ul^^SmKi^ MaSin^Boits and David Branson^ Boots had a 
farm west of town and had a little mill on Boots creek near Jhird street 

Branson owned a farm east of the court house. He and Boots deeded 
the land for the first court house to the commissioners. 

The first court house was of log. but the first one Mr Eward remem- 
bers was a square brick one, having four rooms below used for offices, and 
a large room above used for a court room. „„^„^^ 

The Gilbert brothers, William and Robert, owned a store at the corner 
of Third and Adams. They sold everything needed by the early pioneer 
McClure had a store on the southeast corner of the public square. He had 
all the IncHan trade. Sometimes forty or fifty Indians would come m at a 

'"" The I^dirn'Resertai^on'came up to the Taylor (now the Sharon place) 
west of town The Indians would often get quite drunk but never were 
dangerous at such time. But Mr. Eward remembers going to a "barbecue 
at Jalapa when the Indians got drunk and had several fights. 

James K. Polk was the first president Mr. Eward remembers. There 
was nS excitement about the Mexican War. A few soldiers went to 

''-' Tn^h'o'^dSrwMsry^sold for 25 cents a gallon. When a -" e - 
to town to trade he would always buy two pounds of coffee, a pound of 
"dog-Teg'' tobacco and a gallon of whiskey. A man could drink four times 
as Such vvhishey then as now without it making him drunk, for it was 

^"'^'whrn^^Mf Iward' was^'pTst fifteen years of age he clerked for Mr. 
Lomax who was located about where Kiley's shoe store "ow is M 
LoSax wis a Democrat and Eward believed the ther way so he had to be 
LTeful how he handled the ^uesti^on of politics, lest he lose his 3ob. 

There was a litt e paper published m Marion ir\ IHbb m the interest 
of Scott, so Eward would go at^iight and^^set type so Mr. Lomax would not 
I-nnw it " 'Twere ever thus in politics!' 

Mr Charles Atkinson (of Monroe Township) was a great anti-slavery 
man and helped in the "under-ground system" by hauhng the '"Aggers' 
fiom Ms Dlace to "Mose" Bradford's, the next "Station" He hauled them 
[n a bfc^ wagon, or "prairie schooner," that had a "false" bottom. He would 
n It the "nSeers" in the bottom, then put wheat or hay on top of them 
L no one wild suspect what his "cargo" was. He never got caught but 
Bradford nearly did for he talked more than Atkinson. The next stop 
r^v "c+ntinn" after Bradford's was close to Lagro. 

The Jioneer faimer would mark his hogs on the ear with a s it or cut 

. l./wm?ld know them, then he would turn them out to run wild m the 

lorest They had a go?d living on nuts and "mast " When the farmer got 

reldy to bScher he^ would go out into the woods, find a hog with his 



"brand" and kill it. He had his private "brand" recorded at the recorder's 
office, so he c ;uld claim his ow.i. Nearly every far.ner knew his neighbor's 
"brand" also, so there was never trouble as to the "claim." 

Deer meat, or venison, sold for three or four cents a pound. 

'J he pioneers would visit each other once in a while, stay all day and 
into the night. Then they would come home by "torch light," the children 
following their elders. 

When asked about these "old days," Mr. Eward said: "In some ways 1 
would rather have lived then. People were more sociable than now. They 
would help each other in barn-raisings, log-rollings, apple-butter stirrings, 
and any other work that needed to be done. If a man or his wife were ill 
the neighbors would see that his or her work was done. There was fellow- 
ship everywhere." 

"The improvements of tie present are helpful and pleasant, but the 
old days were best." 

Mr. Eward and his wife are very charming old people. It is due to the 
toils and sacrifice of such people that we, of the modern days, are able to 
enjoy the good things of the present. 



"AS I RECALL' 



I came to Indiana when I was ten years old from Ohio. Our home was 
made of rough logs with mud between the lots to keep out the wind. W« 
had a large fire-place and three "Dutch ovens" in which we baked out 
bread. The people who could afford it had an oven called "the Perfection" 
which resembles an oven to an oil stove today. This was placed before thB 
fire and the baking done in it. We also had a trundle bed. Just before 
going to bed my father and my brothers would bring in enough large logs 
to keep fire over night. 

My school house was made of rough logs with mud between the logs 
just as our home cabin. We had benches to sit on, but when we recited our 
lessons we got up in front of the room and we took our benches with us. 
We used slates for writing and "doing sums." I never saw a blackboard 
until I was fifteen years old. We would have spelling matches on Fridays 
to see who would spell for the "head." We wore aprons and bonnets to 

Many of the children in those days had lice. When I was about four- 
teen I wanted a beau like the rest of the girls had but my parents would 
not permit me, but one Friday one of my schoolmates wanted to walk home 
with me from school that evening so I told him he could. He was all 
dressed up that day at school. When it was time for the spelling match we 
lined up around the wall and this day this boy stood next to me. When we 
were spelling I happened to look at him and there was a louce crawling on 
his white collar. Well, of course, I was afraid of getting them too, so when 
school was out I ran out the door and was down the road before he was 
out of the school-house. After this I did not care so much for a beau as 
I had before. 

The marriages in those days were something like they are now. The 
ceremony itself was the same. When my sister married we had eighty 
guests present. 

When the war broke out my husband enlisted in Mr. St. John s com- 

-pany, but this broke up and he did not enlist again. We had to go through 

many hardships, for food and clothing were very high just as they are now. 

(Story told by Mrs. Sarah Pegdon, 80 years old, to Margaret 

Wilson, M. H. S., 1920.) 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MRS. LYDIA THOMAS 

Marion. Grant County, Indiana. Mnrch 7th, 1897. 
Thomas Baldwin, son of Daniel and Christian Baldwin, and Lydia 
Thomas, daughter of Stephen and Hannah Thomas, were married at New- 
gardeh/Wayne county, Indiana, Ninth Month 2Gth. 1833. 

^'^ ThoTflas was born fourth month, 26th, 1813, and 1 was born twelfth 
month 2rith, 1814. Thomas was twenty years, five months old when WB 
were married, and I was eighteen years, none months and one day. 

Thomas's father came down here three weeks before we were married 
and entered forty acres of land for Thomas, so we had a home to go to 



when we arrived here. Cousin Thomas Baldwin, wife and baby all moved 
down w-th us .n aLOit one .no.itu c.ter we marrie^. 

Ben Benbow had an eighty-acre farm with a cabin on it, joining our 
forty, bit tx.ey hau moveu out ui t. e cabin and were living in a snanty 
between here and Muncy (Muncie). Len was cutting out the state road. 
Weil, l.e told us as we \vere moving down l.ere, to go right into his house 
and stay there 'ti.l we got a house of our own. We started from my father's 
on first ciay evening, ti.at is to move down heie. vve went as far as Eme- 
l.ne ii^aldwin s grandfather 1 harp's on Greens Fork that evening. Next 
mornirg when we got up the ground was covered with snow, and the ground 
was fr. ze, but not enough to bear the wagon up, so we had a tedious day 
o[ it. \,e had three liortes to our wagon. Thomas Wilcut was our driver. 
I think we ttcjed the next night with a family by the name of Denton. 
I don't know where we stayed the other nights, but the road was very bad 
'till sixtn day evening when our wagon broke down. Yes, and broke every 
spoke n one wheel, and tl ere we were — Sally hardly able to sit up, and 
a baby about three months old. I helped her to take care of the baby, the 
two Ihomas Baldwins drove the cow and calf; Cousin Thomas, we called 
I'im, he tc r.( ed to the milking, and 1 think, if the calf left any milk, Tom 
was sure to drink it. 

Ihere was a family lived close to the road where we broke down, I 
think- by tie name of Msrtin, and they entertained us all that night, and 
they lived close to the M'ssissinewa River. So the next morning early the 
boys hiied a lar; e boat cr perogue, and they soon had all the things that 
Vve hrd in the wagon on to t' e boat and we were soon off down the river. 
1 think that Thomas Wilcut took the horses and came down to Uncle 
Charles Baldwin's, and then sent Linzey with a wagon and team to bring 
our thirgs from McCormax to their house. When we got there we also 
brought a hcrfe for Sally to ride on. Well, I think it misted rain nearly 
ail ti e wry down the river to McCormax's, where we met Linzey. Now it 
was aho; t two or three miles to Uncle's yet, so Sally got on the mare and 
tool; the bfly and cane down to Thomas Baldwin's, and myself, walked 
down to Thomas and Sally's home, coming where supper was just ready 
for us ail. 

Thomas and Sally had never been to Thomas' father's before. I think 
ii, was about dark, seventh day evening, when we arrived at uncle's, all 
glad and all tired. Yes, we did more than walk to Uncle's from McCormax; 
we all three carried a load of things. I don't think Thomas rested but little 
that night. After we got to Uncle's, he mashed his thumb that morning 
putting the things into the boat. I well remember the time when Thomas 
dropped the paddle into the water and I reached out my arm away over 
the water and caught it. He hollowed at me and said he thought I was 
going to be drowned, and the other Tom laughed at him about it so much 
afterwards. Well, next morning was Friday and I think the sun shined 
out very bright. Oh, how strange it looked to me, to see the sun rise in 
the north and set in the south, or so it looked to me, and ijt alwaysrhas 
looked to me ever since, and also at Fairmount, and it will be sixty-four 
years next fall since that morning. Btrt the sun always has seemed, to rise 
right to me at Deer Creek and Marion, which seems a blessing to me.-^ 

When we went to Back Creek meeting that day with Uncle's folks we 
came back there and stayed till next morning. Well, we arrived next day 
at the Benbow cabin, 'and it stood close to .wbere Robert BogUe lives now. 
Bens had left one pair of -bed-stids in the house, and it was a great como- 
dation to us. Thomas went right^to work cutting logs to make a house for 
ourselfs. Well in about two weeks after we got here Father Baldwin's fam- 
ily all drove up to Uncle Charles Baldwins. -They had sold/their farm and 
arrived here before we knew they aimed to'^ome. T think the next day 
they about all came to our house. ^Fathrer* BaJ^d win soon bought Benbow 
out. He also gave. Thomas money to enterr.^Gfrt^ acres more joining the 
forty we had. Therr we had -eighty acres, •r-ig^t.Twl^re Fairmount is now. 
Our house was raised and covered when they ♦•ajw^, »» we^-all lived togethef 
one week. There was not bu4>.thirteen of us^att^ 'Then -we went intp out 
own house. Milly and the boys went with us-.^. l-think Thomas m^d« a 
pair of bed-stids that night and put the hinges on the door;/he-.also made 
a wooden latch and put it on the door with the string, on the oui^side, ',ft ; 
We had a punchon floor and boards for a loft. 'Thomas shaved tlie 



^oprrls to pnt onr dishes on ard when it was done it was a nice little cup- 
board. We had but few dishes but what we had was very pretty. They 
were flowered nearly all over purple and red. I think all we had was one 
dish, six plates, six cups and saucers, s^so or.e set of knives and forks, a 
half c'czen spoons, a coffee pot and butler plate, one stew-];ettle and one 
skillet to cook in. Ee had one post for his bedstids. Thomas had peeled 
the bark off of it and bored two holes in the po?t, then he drove two poles 
in tlie post, f en he drove the other ends into the wall- — one at the head, 
the other at tl e foot. Then we laid boards on the poles. Now the bed- 
stiJs v/ re dpr;e ard ready to sleep on. I thinl- Thomas had made one pair 
of beisli'ts jvst a few crys before we had them corded up, and they were 
shaved and ju;t looked real well. He bored a hole in the top of that post so 
he could put curtains up. 

Miily staid all night with us and helped us fix up the rest of our things- 
Our friends gave us a rooster and I think four hens and I don't think there 
was ever a coi:ple sny happier than we were. Thomas then made us five- 
or six chairs and some stools. He then went to fencing and clearing five 
acres for corn, and we raised enough of corn on it that year to bi'y a young 
mrire besides what we us^-d. We killed two deer close to the house soon 
after vve moved home. They were playing and picking grass in the yard. 
Thomas w-.s at his father's at work. Ke came home about sun-dov/n and 
shot one in just a little bit, and was skinning it when the other one came 
back. He then loaded the gun and crippled it, so he ran after it away in' 
to the v/oods and caught it. Ke then called for me to bririt; him the ax and 
I did. Ee said he v;as a raid to let go of it. so he told me to knock it in 
the head, and I did so. Well, we had plenty of m.eat for a while but we- 
generally gave awty about half. I think father gave us a shoulder, ham 
and picle o^ ?mol-ed meat, and fbout two pounds of s"gar and two of coffee, 
and they lasted us very well till we made ur own s'lgar in the spring. He 
also made a little trough to put our sugar in and lid for it and we kept it 
on top of the cupboard. 

Father-in-law gave us one barrel of flour and I think that Ip^sted till 
spring. We called it 15 miles to any mill where we could ret Avhea^f^^round. 
Corn raised on rev/ ground out here made a great deal better bread than 
corn raised on old ground in Wayne county. We had only nine dollars in 
money when we started down here, and that my father gave me instead of 
my bjiear. There was no road out through from our hou"e to Alexandria 
for some time after we moved here. I think the- first that came through' 
here v/Ith wagons and oxen was when the Wabash canal was cut. We had 
plenty of Irish with us then, ?nd we kept a hotel. Sometimes our floor 
would be almost covered with beds. We charged twelve and a half cents 
for a meal ; six and a fourth cents for a bed. The neighbors were very 
g'>od to us — some gave us a goard of soap, others a pumpkin and such like. 
We were blessed in many ways, for which we were thankful. 

We went over one day to Seth Winslow's to help them about their 
hogs. Thomas helped Seth and I helped Mary. At night Mary gave me 
soap enough to do me a year. 

One morning Thomas went over to his father's to work, and I went 
with him. He went home at noon to see to the things and left me. Well, 
the/e was a man by the name of Ebenezer Gary drove or rode up and asked 
him if he could get something to eat. Thomas t~'ld him his wife was not at 
hom.e; he says, "can't you make me some mush," he was so hungry. I thinl 
he had no breakfast. Thomas told him he could make him some mush and 
he had milk and butter, so he came in and eat his dinner. He often brag- 
ged iibout that good dinner he eat at our house long ago in early times. 
He w.-Ts Oil Carry's brother. They both lived in Maron and are both dead. 

I t^nnk Thomas had killed nine deer around Fairmount, beside the one 
he knoc]"ed n the head. 1 also killed a ground hog that was on the fence, 
with a pole. Thomas shot a bear — or at one — while it was eating a live 
hog. The bear ran off and the hog died. There were some wolves and 
panthers around Fairmount then times and also rattlesnakes. I went out 
one evening not far from the house to pick up some sticks to get supper 
with, and I had got my arm full when I saw a large rattlesnake coiled up 
ready to jump at me. I called Thomas and he came and killed it. He soon 
found another about the same size coiled up close to its mate and he killed 
that also. They both had rattles on them, but we were not hurt, so I can 



truly say, "Surely the Lord's goodness has followed us all the days of our 
lives." It was in the spring after we were married that Thomas killed them 
snakes, and the next fall alter, my oldest sister was bit with a rattlesnake 
and It killed her. She lived in Illinois and leit three little children. Her 
name wr.s Mary Hobsun. 

We had no teakettle for near four years. We had been out here about 
one year and a half when Lewis and Sarah Moorman and four children 
moved to our house and stayed till they got their house put up. We never 
had but one door in our house. 

My father gave me a little wheel, and I soon had enough spun to make 
me four linen sheets and I spun for Anna Winslow to pay her for weaving 
them. There were two Indians came up into our yard one day and Thomas 
asked them to come in and eat dinner, and they did so just as nice as any 
one, as far as I knew. There were several wigwams around there then. 

We stayed here at Fairmount about two years the first time, then we 
swapped with Ben Eenbow fcr an eighty acies of land on that branch by 
the cenietary not far from Fairmount. We lived in a house that old Jesse 
Diller used to live in. Ben gave us one hundred dollars to boot. Thomas 
then entered eighty acres more east of Fairmount. I think we stayed here 
over six years on this place. 

Ihomas taught four schools over the Creek close to where Honor 
Thomas now live?. Before we left the Diller place I weU remember many 
things that happened when we lived there on that branch. It was there 
that Ann would have drowned if no one had taken her out. There was a 
big freshet when she fell in and she just floated dovv^n on her back. Our 
hired girl took her out. And another story was that Asa picked up our 
big cat one day and came hy me where I was washing and said he was 
going to throw the cat into the branch, but I paid no attenton to him, so 
he went on to the bridge ?nd tried to push it in to the water, but the cat 
pulled him in and then jumped upon him, and stayed there to the bridge, 
I t'link, without getting its feet wet. You may guess he squalled and I 
went and t:)ok him out. There was not much water in t^e branch then. 
Asa was about three or fovr "eFrs old. Ye?, and here is w'^^ere Terah got 
lost in the woods not far from the Fairmount cemetary, and it looked like 
heing a storm, but I found him ?nd he came up all right; and that was not 
all about Terah. He fell off the foot log head foremost and stuck his head 
in the mud, and he was muddy about all over, and he was scared very bad. 
The first word he said after I had taken him out was, "I was afraid a mud 
tert^e would catch me." I h?!d been telling him. that mud turtles would 
catch him. T'e was rear three yerr? eld. And here is where I was con- 
verted and that was worth all to me. I think it was about fifty-eight or 
nine years ago that Mississinewa Monthly Meeting appointed a committee 
of four- — Thomas Jay, Isaac Elliott, Susa Shngart and myself, to visit some 
friends fcr their help and encouragement that had moved from North or 
outh Carolina out here, and had settled not far from Peru. Well, as we 
came brck we stopped at an Indian village to see that old white woman 
that the Indians stole when =he was hut two years old. She wa? wrapped 
up in a blanket and was sitting in her chair ?nd seemed to be very con- 
t-^nte '. Two of her Indian daughters were sitting in the house with her. 
The oldest v/ss stitching some very nice leggins and the other was nur?ing 
her ba'^y, which was in a little box. I was alway? glad that we stopped 
there, it paid so well. Here Avas where we lived when anti-slavery Friends 
ser)erated from Indiana Yearly Meeting. I forgot to tell h-^w we got our 
tibles. Well, in a few days after we got moved the men folks went out in 
the woods and cut down about the largest poplar tree they could find and 
sawed off cuts as long as they wanted their tables; then split the cut open 
and left it as tl^ick as they wanted them. They plained them and put legs in 
them. Now they were real nice and we had no others for several years. 
We wer° learning to be content with such as we had. 

'Veil, we swapped that Benbow nlace on the branch to Thomas's broth- 
er Elias for an eighty acres where Softh Marian is now. We soon moved 
there but I think Elias sold that on the branch to Jesse Dillen. We only 
stayed there about two years when we moved to the Enoch Davis place on 
Deer Creek close to where John Harris now lives. I exT:ect that Asa and 
Terah remember very well of having to go after nieht into an old deaden- 
ing to hunt up our sheep. They found them and brought them home but 



t^ey d'rT not have to go after them any more in the night. Then we went 
to t: e Renaker farm. We d.'d not st:.y h.ere quite one year. It was here 
at tre above two places that we had tie picasure of keeping the runaway 
slaves and ssnd'n": them on to Canada. There was fifteen slaves from Ken- 
tucl y arrived here at Deer Cree': one night, and in two weeks there was 
fourteen more came from the s: me place. Well, they were all started to 
^anjHly (Canada). There were four stayed at our house, of the first gang, 
•dnd three the next. Old Joe, as we called him, and his wife and little boy, 
vveiO at our house one night when we all thought the slave-holders were 
close titer tlrem. Old .Ve was scared to defth. almost and wanted us to 
let him pvt his wife under the floor. Well, the slaves got to St. Joe and 
there ti eir masters overhauled some of them and tried to take them back. 
They caught poor old Jce. Another took a slave baby out of a cradle and 
started ofP with it but he was soon glad to give it up. The friends of the 
slave arise and they made him carry that baby through the streets while 
the crcvid followed on, so I think they were glad co get back to old Ken- 
tucky wit'rout a slave. 

I could just make a book right here if my health would admit, but I 
must go on with my story. 

Then we moved from the Reneker place to the Deer Creek mill. We 
owned a grist mill and saw mill both there. Terah and Ann were married 
while we lived at the Mill. We then let the three oldest children have the 
mill and the ground belonging there too. We soon moved over the creek 
to the old Uncle Elizsh Thomas farm and we lived here when Asa and 
Addison were married and we also lived here when Addison wen to the war. 
It was here on Deer Creek that Addison used to watch up the creek to see 
old Urcle Lizah coming with his long fish pole, then he wonld_ run back 
to ask hi= father or some of the boys if he might go with him fishing and he 
was sure to go. He knew we thought he would he in safe keeping if he 
was with Uncle. I suppose we all well remember little Daniel's wagon full 
of bark that he tried to pull up that high hill and I think he just gave out. 
1 suppose he was sick then as it was neither moved nor a pipce of bark tak- 
en out Oi the wagon for a long time after he died. We rented that farm to 
Terah and we moved to Joneshcro, where he made boots and shoes and I 
made hats. We stayed there near three years and then moved to Fair- 
mount and we still followed our trade there. 

Mary, Stephen and Lucetta were all married while we lived there. We 
lived here at Fairmount the last tim.e over twenty years. That was the last 
move we made until we sold out here and then we came to Marion to live 
with Terah. 

Now I do hope when the Lord is done serving with us here below we 
will have a house not made with hands, Eternal in the Heavens. 

Asa T. Baldwin was born at Fairmount, 3rd month, 16 day, 1835. 
Terah, Ann and Addison were all born at the Diller farm, a half mile 
from Fairmount. Terah Baldwin was born 2nd month, 1st day, 1837. Ann 
Baldwin was born 8th month, 26th day, 1839. Addison Baldwin was born 
8th month, 1st day, 1841. 

Mary Baldwin was horn where South Marion is now, 10th month, 15th 
day, 184;^. 

Daniel Baldwin was born 6th month, 4th day, 1846, and died down at 
the Deer Creek Mill and was buried in the Deev Cr-nk grave yarh 

Stephen Baldwin was born at the Mill 8th month, 3rd day. 1850. 
Lucetta Baldwin was also born at the Mill 1st month, 30th day. 1854. 
All of our children are living but one and all belong to the Friends 
church but one, and that one belongs with his wife to the Christian church. 
There is mercy in every place. 
Mercy in couraging thought, 
Gives even affliction a grace 
And reconciles man to his lot. 
Now I want you all to look over the many blunders and misspeld 
words I have made in trying to write this littU' book, for I was eighty years 
old last Christmas and all one side of me has been paralyzed for more than 
a year so that I can hardly hold my pen to write at all. FareweM and the 
way to farewell is to do well. L. B. 

Thomas Baldwin was born at Richmond, Indiana, Wayne county. 
Lvdia Baldwin was born at Newgarden, Indiana. Wayne county, near 



Fountain City. 

'even lei^^f'SLSuvS'^iS^^^^T ^^^ ?'■' ^^"^^'' """-* 
.o.. ik^ B.^S. '-e s. -420 South Me^a^ ^t_,n t-^ehou-o. their 

EARLY EDUC/iTkOr^i iN GRaNT COUNTY 

scho," 'm? Tf",? "'"fry *** "'''',? superintendent of Grant county 
TeacVIrs' istidiiio^ '^»^?,>l^''"'^" ""'' '■"?'' " '«''>"■"' *e Indiana State 
.n,er|tateX'ertL)dl;;r'?'pub'?i^?°SLe;!„;^'^ 

j ai^^4s^^s'-j--^;-r^r5S 

cafional- w Jy' ' '"^"'^ ^^' ^^^'"^^ "^^"P^^^ advance ground in an eZ- 
)^.„,^J'^^^"€ ^^°",* *^^ ^^^^y summer normals, Mr Tharn savs- "TIip^p 

wereT'D TlSrni tI Pofi ^"1^-V>1^^^''^^^^^ ^" ^^^^^^ "«^-'^^-l in^^titutes 

88^f mT"t^'"^ ^^' ^^r' ^^"^ *" *^^ ^^^"d^ °^ Mfss kSny Bohfn eVr' fn 
^" rl^l "^?i^i -^-^-^af^^^ resideLe, UiS 

, f Sphm^^ ?' ^''^^ ^'''^ -^"'^ succeeded Mr. Tharp as Ccnty Superintendent 

^'' Jo'enS ?i?f?e? P^^'^n"^ 'f ^'^ i" ^-^^'^ ^^^h t'^^ followino- faculty: 
rine l;rt •^'"^'^^'' P^'- ^^ Physical sc;ence. psychology, didactics. 



Mis3rt..^t^'p' ^r^"l»iar,_ history and mathematics. 
thencB ' ^^«^"*^o"' arithmetic, algebra, calis- 

Mi:^s Jennie Mowrer, piano and organ 
rhetorfc':''" ^' ^'^^'' ^"^^ ^" ^"''^"^ ^"^ ™«^^^" languages and 



assistanTi; L,,t!^^--^^-- telegraphy, shorthand, typewriting, and 

L^ V^''w^;S"'^' bookkeeping, banking, commercial law. 
culture. ^^^^^^^' ^^'^^^ "^^^sic, musical composition and voice 

^' -^V ?,^^,^"^' penmanship and drawing. 
Ti. iS" i^"n' "^st^u^tor in military tactics. 

..entin,, as the laboratory .1 „e,> ^„ppS ^h^ tTetecTrr^ 'a^JpSS: 



In the art department many of the advantages of the best schools were 
found. 

Finally Mr. Tharp suggested to Mr. Tingley's successor that the school 
should be located in the vicinity of "College corner," the site of the district 
school at Morton Boulevard and Washington street, where Dr. Wm. Lomos 
had an interest in it. Then came Dr. T. \v . Jonason and Prof. A. Jones, 
who built the college buildings farther south, and then came C. W. Boucher, 
and later — the Marion Normal Institute. At present the Wesleyan Metho- 
dists have purchased the site and under the able executive ability of Dr. 
H. C. Bedford we predict a splendid future for this institution of learning. 
Through all these agencies a gieat many students have been attracted 
to Marion in search of higher education. Through all its changing history 
the Normal Institute has advertised the county, and there were many 
acquaintances formed in 1S80 at the Tharp Normal that have resulted in 
last.nv; iriendship. It was the county historian's first venture outside of 
common schools and Jonesboro High School and since J. O. Spurgeon taught 
grammar in that early normal effort, "split infinitives" have been a continu- 
ous "^tumbling block and rock of offense" to him. Mr. Osborn taught 
hi. tory, Wni. Russell was instructor in Physiology, and Miss Frone A. Case 
intro luced the Philadelphia School of Oratory methods in reading. L. W. 
Whee'.er and son Elmer, and Henry Fields, had the music department. 

While a good deal is claimed for the Antebellum schools there was a 
splendid student body in that first "spring normal" in 1880, Mr. Tharp's 
earlier schools having been held later in the summer. Mr. Tharp always 
had a w.'.y cf explaining delayed attendance: "We're still in the midst of 
harvest," and scores of autograph albums of that day contained the entries: 
"We're still in the midst of harvest" and "Why is Mr. Tharp like the 
Indicati\e Mode? Because he asserts a thing as a fact." The same social 
spirit .-eemed to follow the later development of the school through its 
Marion Normal College history and its present organization. When it was 
first located at "College corner." debt became its handicap until Dr. Jonason 
"finnnced" it, and then it had an era of prosperity which continued through- 
out V'<Q Boucher administration. Finally President Boucher and Mrs. C. W. 
Boucher abandoned the field, Sept. 1, 1912, and the Marion Normal College 
became the Marion Normal Institute with Lawrence V. Jackson as presi- 
dent, citizens of Marion and Grant county standing behind the enterprise 
with a cash bonus sufficient to place the school in working order. 

In 1919 the Wesleyan Methodist Conference bought the buildings and 
ground to make a denominational college. They are planning to open it 
Sept. 1, 1921. The following is a statement made by Dr. H. C. Bedford, 
concerning the plans: 

May 4, 1920. 

"Our intention is to make Marion College a "standard college" in the 
state of Indiana. Accordingly a faculty of training and experience has 
1 een secured. The men engaged have received their degrees from some of 
the best institutions in our country and also had years of successful teach- 
ing experience in their respective fields. 

"The college curriculum will include sufficient elective courses to en- 
able students to select their majors with a view to their ambitions for the 
future. Numerous courses in English, History, Philosophy, Education, 
Mathematics, Sciences and Foreign Languages will be offered. 

"The college will also include a normal department; Professor Jones, 
formnr president of the Marion Normal Institute, will be the dean of this 
department. It will be possible for prospective teachers to take their A. B. 
course in the college, choosing their major in education, or take regular 
normal work and secure the certificates usually offered by the state. 

"The music department will be a strong feature. We have engaged 
the best talent which we could for the faculty. Opportunities in voice, 
piano, violin, harmony, etc., orchestra, chorus, glee club singing, etc., will 
be offered. 

"A full high school course will be offered to those who may not be 
qualified to enter th* college, or who desire the influence of the college. 

"The theological department will be made a strong department. It will 
be organized with a view to the needs of our pastors, missionaries. Gospel 
^'orkers and others who are looking forward to church work." 

■ • —Very truly, H. C. Bedford. 

/.J 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A COUNTRY 

SCHOOL SIXTY OR SEVENTY YEARS AGO 

*■ 

In the old time school there was no such thing as desks. The seats 
were made by splitting in two lynn logs about a foot in diameter and put- 
ting legs in the round side. The writing desk was a wide board laid upon 
pegs which were fastened in augur holes in the wall. 

We were given a short time in both forenoon and afternoon in which 
to practice writing. 

The methods of study was for each pupil to spell or read aloud and 
if, by chance, there was silence for a moment, the teacher thought there 
v/as something wrong, and would say: "To your books!" and the noise began 
louder than before. 

We considered it a privilege for a couple of us to get to go for a 
bucket of water, which was carred from a farm house nearest. When the 
water arrived some one would get permission to pass around with bucket 
and tin-cup until the pupils were all watered. 

Another "privilege" was to go out in any kind of weather and carry 
in a load of wood and place it in the fireplace or the stove. 

Each pupil had a slate and pencil to "do sums" in arithmetic. Some 
slates and pencils were better than others so there was a great deal of 
"swapping." 

There were various modes of punishment. One was to place the culprit 
cut on the floor and put a dunce-cap on his head. This humbled him, for 
everyone e!se laughed at him. Once in a while the teacher would throw a 
pencil or ruler at the offender and then have him bring it back to the 
seasoned and ready for use, in some handy place about the room. 

There was no such thinp- as a written examination. How would you 
like that? The most popular games were "black man" and town ball, and 
"bull-pen" for the larger boys. There was also "ante-over" and "dare- 
baste." 

The teacher would sometimes "board around" at the homes of the 
pupils, staying about a week at a place. Especially was this the case in 
summer schools, taught by young women. 

The usual way of conducting a recitation in spelling was for all who 
could spell to form a line around the wall, and when a word was misspelled, 
the one below who spelled it correctly would take his place in the line just 
above the one who missed the word. The one who stood at the head of the 
class when the recitation had closed had won a "head-mark" and would 
take his place at the foot of the class next day. 

But school furniture and methods of teaching changed rapidly, rude 
desks were brought into use, and the "out-loud" way of studying was dis- 
continued. We also had monthly examinations. 

Our text books consisted of altogether of the McGuflFey's series of 
readers — 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th. In the First Reader were the 
Btories so familiar to all elderly people yet — 

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star, 

How I wonder what you are! 

Up above the world so high, 

Like a diamond in the sky." '■' 

or, 

"I like to see.a little dog, 

And pat him on the head, ■ •, " 

So prettily he wags His tail 

Whenever he iS fed !" 
or, ■ • ^i9 " 

"Mary had a little lamb, 

Its fleece was white'as snoWj'/''' '\^ 

And everywhere that Mary^weTif '\ ". ' ".,, '' 

The lamb was sure t6 go."' " ' " 

In the Second Reader was "The Old Oaken Bucket;" and 'Tl^ri^'iWd 



'r' eS'I Adt-"r.-eJf; "'''''■' "^""'""'^ ^^"'^'"^ Book, Ollney's Geography. 

periiiit me to go into detail arithmetic lessons, but time will not 

— '""^^sn^y Mr. J. W. Cox, age about 75 

y was overgrown with trees to a large extent 
wo yes, foxes and wild, turkeys could be found! 



^mmmmmi^^ 



traveling, and women as^veU as SL'had' fhelr "adifes."' "^"""' ""''""' "' 
loes ^ff If.t" T?f^' T"'' ™''" '?« l«"WinEs with floors made bv hewine 

a Ht^Jn^-JiriitT;;:! ?i'o™^''\?'e;r^as1,ryf r TeStlhe-'HS' 

L- |i?rrorn;^?.^j7i^„rdrr Se\-'l °aL^-?.'-^ «-" -- --" 
i8.s^„^\tiirrib:u\Tc^i^fwS^rdibi''etrn2^^Th'e%^t;^^ 

building covered with rough clap-boards and the cr.Sks were daubed with 
^e^::^/::^f?!^^^^-li-i^^^r^ and thrs^o^cl-^of^g^s 

inha^?^^^S^^I^"^^^^^\^id \tTltS 7e7 ''' '''A 
and gave the settlers little trouble Meih n-go-Z sia ^vhn ?; l^"^^,^^"] 
1877,. was their chief. The Indians havf contributerm^V w^ SuHd* 

inos, including the brick house on the Stuber farm wes^ Jf^x Sta ion and' 
the old church by the "Indian Village," that was built in 186^ by Po-kung 

f^o rl^^ 'p ""m '^ i""^ ^"li'-^^" *^^ ^^""^y ^as built by Samuel McClure on 
the Caleb Bails farm which was at that time in Washington townshh) but 
by a change m township lines it is now in Pleasant township. The mHl 
IS now entirely destroyed. ^ 

The first court house built in 1833, was a small two-story frame build- 
ing around which might often times be seen horses, cattle and hogs \bout 
five years later (1838) t his court hou se was_^replaced by one built of brick. 

COPY OF REPORT OF COMMISSIONERS LAYING OUT MARION 

(Glenn Earnhart) 

To the County Commissioners of Grant County, State of Indiana: 
w„.f ^^' ^ A^^'^■n^''''^^ ?u Cass County, William Edwards and William 
Hunt of Randolph County, three of the Commissioners appointed by the 
legislature of said State to locate the Seat of Justice of said County of 
Grant, respectfully report: ^ 

;That, one of our body to-wit, said Ewing, attended at the house of 
David Branson m said Grant County, on the second Monday of the month 
of May, 18ol, being the 9th day of said month and the dav appointed bv 
law for the meeting of the Commissioners to locate said Seat of Justice 



when by reason of the non-attendance of a sufficient number of said Com- 
missioners to transact the business assigned to them, their meetincc was 
adjourned by snid Ewing until Monday, the sixteenth day of said month of 
May, and notice of said adjournment was by him forwarded to each of the 
absent commissioners; that on the said ir>th day of May, the day to which 
said meeting- was adjourned, we the said Ewing," Edwards and Hunt, met at 
the house of said David Branson in said Grant County, the place annointed 
as aforesaid, and having severally taken an oath and been sworn well and 
truly to discharge the duties assigned to us by law as Commissioners to 
locate said Seat of Justice did then proceed in the performance of that duty 
— And pfter exp^mining the several trails proposed to be donated to said 
county, and taking into view the pref^ent population as well as the probable 
future populatinn o-^" ?aid county, as well as all the other points, matters, 
and things enumerated in the act of 1824 entitled an act to locate Seats 
of -Justice in all new counties as guide to direct us in making said location 
we did p.r\(] have selected a trail of land on the sou+hwe-^t side of the Mis- 
sissineway river in section six. town twenty-four of Range eight containing 
p'- <-v r,rrp<i '^f 1^"rl r^-^yr^er^ by ''^avid Branson and Martin Boots, find have 
thereon located the Seat of Justice of said Grant County — said trail of land 
i= rvire p^-'l-CTl'^r^y df^sTibed and set out in the Bond of said Branson and 
Boots fm?r' ed A) and herewith returned as a part of this onr report. 

We fur^hpr report that said David Branson and Martin Boots have 
executed and d^'live'^ed to us a Bond payable to the county commissioners 
of said Grant Cou-'ty f'^r the conveyance of said sixty acres of land to the 
agent v/^'^m the commissioners of said county may anpoint to view a con- 
veyant thing agreeably to the provisions of the act of 1824 which bond is 
marl-Arl "A" ?.■= aforesaid' and herewith returned. 

We f'^rt^-er report that said land was and is DONATED by said Bran- 
son and Boots to said Grant County, for the purpose of locating thereon 
the County Sefst as aforesaid, as will appear by the condition of said Bond, 
in addition to which donation of land they have donated to said Grant 
County the s'^m of Four Hundred and Thirty Dollars in money — three hun- 
dred pnd eie-hty dollr.rs which is to he paid within one year from this day 
and the balance Cfifty dollars) within two years from this date, for which 
sum payable as aforesaid they have granted their prommisary notes to the 
Com.mis^ioners of said Grant County which notes are herewith attached, 
m.ai-i-ed "P" and "C." '^he said donors have reserved to themselves one- 
fourth of the whole number of lots to be laid off on said donation, these to 
be selected in a manner set out m said Bond, viz: Commencing at w. one 
they will take Nos. 4-8-1 2-1 fi and so on through the whole plat of the town 
to be laid off on said donation, which is to cover and embrace the whole 
six+y acr'^s — they also reserve the buildings, fences, fruit trees and crops 
now on said land, and agree to remove them within eight months hereafter 
if reauired, but make no reservation of the soil other than the portion or 
part of t^e lots as above stated — The town is to be laid out bythe County 
Comm.issioners so soon as and upon such plan as they may think fit — and 
when laid out and the lots numbered and their portion selected the county 
fjrent is to make Deed to them respectively for their portion for which 
Deed he is to make and deliver to them a Bond at the time they execute 
their Deed to him for said donation. — It is understood by said Donors that 
each is to take his share of lots out of their respective parts of said dona- 
tion, which is thirty acres, as will be seen by said Bond marked "A." ^ 

In making this location we have been guided by what we consider to 
be the real substantial interests of the county and that such will be the re- 
sult we hope and believe — the site is as near the geographical center of the 
county as we could obtain one without violating our own judgment as to 
the permanent and time material of the present and probable future popu- 
lation of the county. In our decision upon all the matters taken into view, 
there has been no difference of opinion, and in making this location we are 
unanimous. . , . 

We would further state that we have been severally occupied m the 
performance of our duties as above state and will have been by the time 
we make our departure home, the number of days following, to-wit: Charles 
W. Ewing from the 7th until the 22nd day of this month, making 16 days; 
William Edwards from the 14th until the 22nd, making 9 days, and William 



Hnrt fvn rlpys f>t thi- -pVce n.nd two days to come here and two to return 
home making nine days in all. 

on u''^i^oo^ which is respectfully submitted. Grant County, Branson, May 
20th, 1831. 

CHAELES ¥7. EWING, 
WILLIAM EDWARDS, 

WILLIAM HUNT, Commissioners. 

^ 

COPY OF THE FIRST SUMMONS ISSUED IN GRANT COUNTY 
(Glen Earn hart) 

STATE CF INDIANA. GRANT COUNTY: 

To Jrhn 0. Borts, Constable of Pleasant Townshin: You are hereby 
commanded to summons Christian Stephens, Wm. Hannah, Richard Hply, 
.■^ahes Harscal. Elias Murry. Christian Heller, to anp«ar b^forp me. W^. 
Pric' itt. P justice of tl-e peace, therein at one o'clock on the 28th day of 
July, 18 "^2. 

T-- t-stify in a suit whereas John W. Cooly is plaintiff and A. J. Wood-- 
worth is defendrnt ard this they shall not omit und^r f^e pe^plty ^^ the 
law, and of this writ made due services and returns. July the 19th," 1832. 

Wm. PRICKITT, J. P. 
(On opposite side) 

Travelire to serve process 46 miles $1.84 

Ex°pi^^"d as commanded 6 witnesses 75 

Ret'^rnin.e:, 5 cents on each witness 30 

Is-uino; subpoena 2.55 



$5.69 

Fxe-uted on Christian Heller by leaving a copy of subpoena. 

Ex-^cuted on Elias Mnrry, do. 

Executed on Wm. Hannah, do. 

Executed on Richard Hely, do. 

JOHN O. BOOTS, Constable. 

— Brother of Martin. 

^ 

WILLIAM GIBSON LYONS 

Mr. Lyons was born in Wabash county, August 20. 1858. He lived 
there until he was eleven years old then moved to Pipe Creek (later called 
Swayzee.) 

This was all in woods and swamps offering no inducement except frogs 
and a^ue. Nearly everybody had second day and third day ague, due to 
the swamps. A green scum would raise on the ponds. 

There were no pastures nor fences, people put their stock in the 
woods and let them run wild. His father would put a slit in the right ear 
of his hogs so he would know them, and he cut a round hole in his cow's 
ear. 

Mr. Lyons told about the awful hail storm of June 5, 1874, that passed 
over that region. It wrs about harvest time and all the crops were de- 
stroyed. The hail fell fully six inches deep and were as large as quail eggs. 

Before Swayzee was built they took their produce to Mier Town. They 
w'luld get eight cents per dozen for eggs, fifteen cents per bushel for oats 
and twenty cents for corn. 

Swayzee was laid out about 1880, and was named for Watt Swayzee. 
who lived at the cross roads. The Narrow Gauge (Clover Leaf) helped 
to build tYe town. The Methodist church was the first church built in 
Swayzee. The New Light Christian church was next. 

Mr. Lyon's cousin. Mrs. Cora Sailors-Hood, said that her mother lived 
in Marion when there were but fourteen business houses there. Mrs. Hood 
said she remembers whn the roads were so bad at Pipe Creek (Swayzee) 
that people would have to hitch four horses to a spring wagon to haul a 
corpse to the graveyard. The friends would follow in big wagons. 

"Swayzee may have been bad then, but it is a good town now," she 
said. 

EARLY LIFE OF AN OLD PIONEER 

Sarah Slusher was born near Rock Bridge. Virginia, April 23, 1828. 
When she was seven months old her parents (Mr. and Mrs. John Slusher) 



moved to Ohio in a "covered wagon," drawn by one horse. Her mother 
walked most of the way and carried her because there was not room in the 
wagon for them. 

They resided in Ohio for a short time, then came on to Indiana, where 
she hfis lived ever since. Tl-ere were many Indians living close to them, 
lor their home was near an "Indian Reserve." The Indians often came to 
her mother (who was a widow by this time) and tried to buy little Sarah, 
offering bright beads and larj?e sums of money for her. They would try 
to coax the child off with them, by giving her beads and trinkets, and she 
would have gone with them if it had not been for her mother, for little 
Sarah was then only five years old and could not understand. 

Her home was a log cabin with puncheon floor and a fiieplace in one 
side. She slept on a "cord" bedstead, i. e. : a bed having ropes woven across 
it instead of bed slats. The chairs, tables, benches and stools were all 
"home-made" of rude boards. 

She ate "corn-pone," tea, corn meal mush, and wild meats, such as 
deer, turkey, duck, squirrel or rabbit which her brother or the neighbors 
would supply. 

She wore "home-spun" clothing. In winter it was made of "linsey- 
woolsey" or fur; in summer of flax or "tow" linen. The first pair of shoes 
she had was made by her brother out of old boot-legs. She was eight years 
old at that time, and beTore this she either went bare-foot or had her feet 
wrapped in rags. Abovt this time she had her first calico dress also. 

She had no toys and few games to amuse her. She did have a pet crow 
that she trained to play with a marble. 

She went to schools but little, for she had three miles to walk and the 
roads were very bad. 

When ten years of age she left her home to w n-k for a neighbor. She 
milked the cows, churned the butter, washed t'e weekly washing, and many 
other things for 50 cents per week, and she a little girl of ten years. 

She did not get to go to church very often, because she had no way of 
getting to the cVurch, wHch was a long way frcm her home. 

Her father died when she was a tiny child. She remembers the ca§ket 
being placed in one corner of the room. She wondere-l why her father was 
lying in that box! She was playing near by and tip-toed up to the casket 
and picked out a shaving which had curled up. She thought it pretty and 
would have plpyed with it, but a dear old lady who was present told her 
she must not take it for it was in her father's casket. 

This coffin was made by a neighbor out of plain lumber without lining. 
The shavings which were left from the making were placed under the head 
of her father for a pillow, then covered over with a white cloth. 

When about eighteen years of age she was married to Jesse Pierce. 
To them were born eleven children. On Jan. 13, 1876, she was married 
to John Jones, who died Nov. 13, 1891, since which time she has lived with 
her children. 

Grandmother Jones is very bright of mind at t^e extreme age of 
ninety-tw^o. In fact it is told of her that she danced the Virginia reel at 
the octogenarian's meeting at Marion, Indiana, when she was ninety years 
of age. She sits serenely, when not at work, and smokes her pipe, a living 
example of serene old age. 

(Written by her grand-daughter, Marie Grindle, Senior M. H. S., 1920) 

: ^ 

REMINISCENCES 

The old jail was on the corner of Boots and Second streets. It was 
made of logs and was not worth much as a jail. One man took off the door 
of his cell, carried it down to the river and threw it in. In the earliest days 
of Marion there were only two stores, one belonging to Mr. McClure and 
ore to Mr. Sweetser. There was only one hotel, the Lovehouse, on the 
.«outh side of the souare. The very first cemetery wps on the corner of 
Gallatin and Fifth streets. It was then moved to the Third street hill and 
afterward to where it now is located. 

About 1852 there was a plank road running from Marion to Jones- 
bpro. The land between 14th and 18th streets used to be very swampy. 
They built a corduroy road through this district. West of Boots street 
there were very few houses until about 1860. 



The Indians liked Mr. McClure very much. They would come trailing 

in single file, on tneir ponies, ciresced Indian fashion, to ask for his advice 
about ti;e.r affa.i£. 

Me:hingomesia, the chief, had two j-ons who obstinately refused to stay 
in school, so nearly every morning he brought them to school on his pony. 
He would come and sit on the back seat in the school house and listen to 
t: e chiit.ren rec.te. Ihe leys we;it nearly thrte years to the Mississinewa 
school and received a good education for Indians. 

A'.ort tie t me of tie civil , ar labcr wts very cheap. A girl hired 
herself out to sew and knit. If she was a good worker she received $2.00 
per week. An ordinary worker was paid $1.50. She had to work till nine 
o'clock at night and if she wanted to go anywhere she had to get someone 
to work in her place unt.l 9 o'clock. 

An undergrouna rauwf.y ran through Marion. Two of the stopping 
places were Atkinson's and Bradford's. 

Some things cost more during the Civil War than during the World 
War. 'Lalico was 2.5 cents per yard; coffee, 60 cents a pound. Shoes could 
not be bovght by poor people. 

David Hogan is the oldest citizen living in Marion. 

Mr. and Mrs. M.iton Overman gave me this information. 

—Mabel Skinner, 1920. 
^ * 

SHORT SKETCHES OF EARLY GRANT COUNTY LIFE 

* 

Theie few sketches were given to me by my grandfather, Mr. E. G. 
Maple, 318 East Swayzee street, Marion. 

He will be eighty-six years of age the second day of February, 1920. 
He spent mo.«t of his life in, or close to. Grant county. 

ii.e was born in Fayette county, in the southern part of the state, but 
moved to the northern part when but a small boy. They had to move in 
wrgons and they drove their three cows that they brought with them in 
front of the wagons. In some places they had to cut their way through 
un.derbrush and shrubs to get through the forests. There were places close 
to small towns that had been settled a short time where there were roads, 
or rather paths, that were more easily traveled. 

Marion was but a small village when they came through it . It con- 
tained about three stores, one of which was owned by Sam McClure. 

These stores were all miscellaneous stores. They had in stock just 
those things which were used in that day, such as dry goods, thread, and 
groceries. 

Sam McClnre traded with the Indians. His store might be called the 
Indian's trading post. He was a great friend of the Indians and was greatly 
rc'snected by them. Every fall he went with them to Fort Wayne to get 
their pensions. 

When my grandfather and his parents came to the Mississinewa river, 
they forced their cows to swim while they forde'd it in the wagons at a place 
just a short distance from the present Washington street bridge. 

The only houses on the other side of the river were owned by Mr. 
Hogan and Mose Bradford. 

Mose Bradford's house was situated on the north bank of the river. 
The road that my grandfather traveled lay between the bank of the river 
and Bradford's home. 

On the south bank of the river a ferry boat was always kept and was 
used in transferring people, also cattle and horses and a few other things 
across the river. It was flat and could accommodate two toams of horses 
and a few people at one time. Dal Wimble was the name of the man that 
owned and had charge of the ferry boat. The boat was only used during 
high water, when the current was too swift and the river too deep to be 
forded. 

My grandfather, his father and mother and possessions finally arrived 
at the small tract of ground that he had bought. He and his father cut 
the logs and built the cabin that was to be their future home. During the 
winter my great-grandmother died of what was then called "winter fever." 
One after one the settlers died with it that winter. It was what is now 
called typhoid fever. In the spring my great-grandfather moved to a little 



town called America just north over the boundary line of Grant county. 
This village had one store, one tavern, as they were then called, and one 
blacksmith shop and a few houses. 

There were quite a n-^mber of Indians in this neighborhood. One day 
my grand+'ather went into the store and was quietly grabbed by an Indian, 
who drew his long knife and put the blade against my grandfather's neck. 
lie struggled at first, but thinking it o n > use, remained still. The Indian 
held nim for a few minutes and said. "No scare him," and then let him go. 
The Indian, knowing he was young, thought he could scare my grandfather 
and have some fun and w?s vrry much disaopoirted at the results. 

A short distance between Marion and this little village of America was 
en Indian trading post called Fox's Station. A mr.n lived at this place by 
the name of Ed. Fox. He had a black horse of w^nch he was very proud. 
He also had a black dog and about every other day t^:s man would ride 
down to America and get dnuik. He would ride on V'e black hor e with 
the dog behind h!m. It was almost an every-day occurence to see Ed. Fox 
riding his black mare to America and with the little dog trailing behind him. 

^t was not long until my grandfather moved to Mirrtiwn, which was 
ft little place of abort six hou'es, a store, a blaci'sm.ith shop and a shoe- 
maker's shop. The traveling from Marion to Miertown was much worse 
than the trip from Marion to America. Often times the water and mud 
would come up to the wagon bed; other times they had to cut their way 
through the thick growth of underbrush. 

One night not long after t^ey were settled in Miertown my grand- 
father and his brother made a trip to Kokomo with lumber. It was almost 
dark when they started for home. It had snowed all day long and then 
turned bitter'y cold. The horsps could hardly pnll t'-'e wagon through the 
snow, as it was more than knee deep. They stopped but once during the 
journey and then only long enough to get warm. Grandfather said that 
he didn't think many people now days could stand the extreme cold that 
they had that night. 

--Contributed by Geraldine Ditsler. 

NANCY JANE STORER-NICHOLS 

"I was born in Ohio, January 13, 1833, but came to Indiana when I 
was young. There were many wild animals here then, among them wolves 
and Indians. 

"One time I went to an Indian dance with my brother just to see what 
they would do. I certainly did see a plenty, for the Indians all got drunk 
and then started a fuss and one Indian shot another and killed him. 

"The next day, after they had sobered up, they buried the dead In- 
dian. They placed a tomahawk in the crude coffin and also a cup of coffee 
was set back of his head so he would have his weapon and food for the 
'Happy Hunting Ground.' 

"I knew Chief Meshingomesia quite well. He used to come to my 
father, who was a blacksmith, to have his ponies shod. 

"Sometimes the Indians were wild and dangerous, especially before 

thev were convertec 

life, 

DESCRIPTION uF EARLY LIFE 

* 

The pioneer cabin was made of hewed logs, or "sralped" loe:s (which 
were smaller than the hewed lof=s and were just scalped off a little on the 
outsirie. and left round on the inside of the cabin.) 

Every cabin had a fireplace with a "crane" whi?h was securely fasten- 
ed to the corner of the chimney. The crane was placed on a pivot and would 
swing around out of the way. or over the fire when cooking was being done. 

Th'^ ber's of the nioneers were made by setting iinright nosts out in 
the floor as far from the wall as desired, and securely fastened and braced 
against the wall. Then by weaving a bed-cord from one of the bed-rails 
to the bed-rail on the opposite side, and from one end to the other, squares 
were made about six or eight inches in length, on which the bed clothing 
was placed. This bed clothing consisted of a "tick" filled with clean straw, 
a huge feather bed (into which one sank), quilts, coverlets, and in wealth- 



ier families, a pure white "spread" which had been woven from bleached 
I'nen threads. 

Cabinets were built, or cupboards, in one side of the room by driving 
rows of pe:j3 into the wall, and placing wide boards, cut to fit in the corner, 
upon these pegs. Curtains of some kind of cloth were made to hang down 
in front of these shelves and .'^erved to keep the dust off the dishes, or 
quilts, that were on the shelves. 

The pioneer c'^airs were almost the same shape as they are today, but 
instead of having wooden or leather bottoms, they were made of split bark 
(> ' trees, and woven into a substantial net work that would last for years. 

CViV'ren were governed ly the rod, both at home and at school. If a 
child were told to do a thing it was expected to do it — if it did not obey 
at once it was marched out and whipped in a decent way, but in such a 
manner that it scarcely ever refused a second time. 

Ii a cl ild were chaft zed at school it was usually the same process 
at home wlen the parents found it out, so discipline was upheld everywhere 
and as a result the adults were honest, lawabiding citizens. 

All c'othing worn by pioneers was "home-spun." First the wool wasj 
sheared oT the sheep, the- a'l burrs and dirt picked out. Afterward it was 
thoroi/'ghly washed and taken to a carding machine where it was carded, 
then ta^ ei home, spun into thread and woven into cloth. Then the mother 
would make it into garments for the husband and children to wear. 

The early schools were built of hewed logs, one log being left out part 
of the way around the house to leave a place for windows. There were 
twelve panes of glass to each window. 

On the outside of this cabin was a bench which extended around the 
entire wall except the side on which was the blackboard. The children 
in the primer and first reader sat on this bench. Then there were desks 
in the r-^om somewhat similar to a modern desk, only they seated two 
pupils. They were made entirely of wood. The larger pupils sat at these 
des'-p. The desks in the rear of the room were large; those in front were 
smaller. 

Tn those days people continued to go to school until they were grown, 
and could study any text or subject they wanted to. There were no special 
grades with a course to be completed as there is today. If a pupil didn't 
know what he wished to study, the teacher might suggest anything he 
cared to. 

The school term lasted but three or four months of the year, due to 
a lack of funds. The school months were usually December, January and 
February. Pupils between the ages of six and twenty-one could draw what 
was cailed "school money" from the Township for purposes of education. 
If a person wanted to go to school after he was twenty-one no one offered 
any obiection. and it was no uncommon thing for pupils twenty-five or 
thirty years of age to be in school with six-year-olds. 

— Information obtained from Mr. H. C. Modlin, 67 years old. 

* 

EARLY DAYS 

This story was told by Mrs. Sarah Lytle, now residing at 803 South 
Branson street. 

"I was born in May. 1844, in this county. I lived about three and one- 
half miles southeast of Marion, near Lugar creek. My grandfather was the 
second person to own any property in Marion. He then owned what is 
now the Glass block. The McClure block was the first business place in 
town. 

"I remember very plainly the very many times my mother told me 
about the accident that befell my father. He owned a saw-mill located on 
Lugar creek. One morning, before breakfast, he went down to the mill. 
Mother rang the breakfast bell and waited a long while, but did not see 
him coming, so she started down the road to find him. She met a man 
staggering as if he were drunk, but upon approaching him, found it to be 
father. He was hurt very badly. A log had fallen on him and cut him 
across the abdomen. For several days he was not expected to live, but he 
finally pulled through. 

"My parents moved to Marion when I was but three years old. I went 
to a select school, or sort of a private school, which stood on Eighth street, 
v/here the Central School now stands. About two hundred pupils went to 



this school but when the Civil war broke out so many young men went that 
the school was entirely Irol en vp. 

"This school was divided into the Intermediate, down stairs, and the 
Juniors up. Each Priday aiternoon tie girls had to read essays, and tne 
beys declamations. Cr.e week the Ji-nicrs came down stairs and the next 
week the Intermediate went upstairs. Our. teacher was a man by the name 
of Sperbeck. I remember one day he called on Dick Steely to give his 
declamation. Dick said. 'I haven't any declamation but I move we give 
trree cheers for President Pierce.' Ihe teacher rang the bell to keep the 
pupils quiet and called on Ed. Lennox. Ed. knew that he v/ould have to 
say something so he said : 

'I'd like to see a little dog, 
And pat him on the head; 
How prettily he'd wag his tail 
Whenever he is fed.' 

"A person wasn't considered up in G then if he went to a public 
school, ihe teachers were very strict. It was a fright the way they whip- 
ped the pupils for the slightest offense. Sperbeck always carried a hick- 
cry stick al 01 t four feet long with him. Cre aftfrncon abort five or six 
beys planned to plry hookey. They knew they would get a 'licken' for it 
s'c they planned that when the teacher started to lic^: the first one the other 
five would 'beat up' on him. The next day Sperbeck lined them all up and 
jv£t as he started to whip one of the boys, the rest, instead of doinq; as they 
planned, ran away. Cf courfe the teacher got so excited that none of 'em 
got licked. '1 es, and Sperbeck was a preacher, too, wasn't he?' said a 
ne'ghbcr who was there at the time. 

"Oh, I wssn't going to tell that," rer)lied Mrs. Lyt^e. "The devil's got 
EIM lorg ago." Mr. Sperbeck preached at the Hog Eye church, which 
stood where tie Gethsemane church is now. The church and school were 
to." ether and my brother Arthur attended school there. Then hogs and 
cattle ran loose and since the church didn't have any eave troughs the 
vvater would run under the church. This made just the kind of a puddle 
A^hich a hog likes to wallow in. This is the way the church got it? name. 

"11' ere used to be a saloon standing where McCulloch's bank is now. 
The back of it was turned toward Washington sireet. People thought they 
couldn't get along without beer then. Everybody had some in their cup- 
board, just the same as they have salt or sugar now." 

— Mary Wimm.er and Cleo Harter were told this story. 



^JOHN Q. THONTAS'S STORY OF Q JAKER WE^f-ingS 
^^ AND THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD 

Mr. Thomas was born in Grant County, January 6, 1847. He told the 
following story in a simple manner: 

"The early Friends were a peculiar and quiet people. They believed 
in the leading of the Holy Spirit. They were very conscientious people, 
opposed to war and in favor of peace. Many emigrated from the South 
on account of slavery. Grandfather Elijah Thomas came and brought my 
father, Milton, when father was just three years old. Father married a 
wealthy slave owner's daughter. 

"The Friends worshiped differently from other denominations. Their 
church had a movable partition in the center, which divided the women 
from the men when they had business meetings. When business would 
come up concerning both men and women there was a messenger to carry 
the business back and forth. There were three shutters, one of which was 
used as an entrance and when passing through from one room to the other 
was carefully closed. The week-day meetings would last an hour or two, 
but the business session and the Sunday worship usually lasted about three 
or four hours. There was no minister. Whoever felt led by the Spirit 
would say so and then by consent of the people he would lead, such usually 
being an older person. In time of prayer the men stood up, turned their 
backs to the person in charge of the meeting and took their hats off. After 
prayer they would sit down and put their hats on. The women always wore 
the Quaker bonnets and they would be looking down so that their bonnets 
prevented them from seeing the leader. 

"Elma and I wanted to get married. She belonged to the New London 



monthly mcetirg and I to the Mississinewa. We each had to have certifi- 
cates csiti yirig t at we weie really memlers oi our monthly meet.ngs. 
i.er moritily n eelirg \, :;j, c rp cry ; efcie n.ire so that I couldn't receive 
the certificate for o. r meetlnr t. e next day and therefore it had to lay over 
a month, ly th;t t.'n-e v, e hrd oi r ( iiierer.t ccitificftes to pre ent t:^ oiir 
.reetin£s_ £iK. tl en it had to lay over another month while each monthly 
n:ezt ng invecti; rted the matter. A committee was appointer' to see i' we 
hru ever I ■ en e prged to anyone e'se be ore. If so, we conld not have 
le:n niiriied. (I thinl: thft :s a fine thing). Nor conld we be married if 
both of ':;, were n-^t Gral.ers. Tie committee re^iorting frvorab^'y th^y 
m?i e o- t a mrrrifre certificate which Elma and I signed first, t' en six 
common members sigiied it at the wedding and it was given to us when we 
were marrieh At rext m.onthly bur>es? r>-eet:ng a s^'^cir-l time w^s set 
''nr o'^r •> 'edding. - .hen t^e time came we, Elma and I, s?.t at t'e head of 
t'e meeting with t?e ore who wrs sitting as head of moet'ng. T>^p leader 
got up and said: 'N' w is the prner t"r-e f^r Tohn Q. Thomas and Elma 
;'t/^'-t to r'^^omnhsh their mar'^irge according to the custom o^ Friend?.' 
We tl-en stood up with our waiters (same as bridesmaid and best man) on 
e'f er s''''e of rs r'd I srid' 

" 'Fri-^nds, in the presence of our Lord and before this assembly, I take 
lillm? Etort to he my wife, promisi'^g with divine assistance to be 'into her 
ii loving and faithful husband until derth shall separate us.' Elma said 
abort the srr-e and we were married. 

"T^-ey. t^ e six common members, signed the certificate that has been 
me^^tipned and 't was given to us to keep. 

"Ma^y pernio c^ me to see Quaker v/eddings because they were so 
iifrerent from otlrr denominations. 

"T.-^vy Coffin was one o^ t'-'e leading 'under-ground' keeners. First he 
haH his headcur rte-^s located at Fountain City, thpn at R'cl^mond, then 
at Ci>iririn"ti. The st-^tions around herp were located at old John Shugart's 
where he Love farm is now. south o-^ th^ College on Harmon; one at Ely 
Co<7<^shen's ulrce. a little over a mile south of t^^e Coref^e on Harmon; 
onp ^t D>] 'T'homa'-'s. about a mi^e south of D°er Creek me'^tin<'- housp; one 
at Milton Thomas's, where Sam Bear's dairy is now, and one at the Hollo- 
wells at New Holland. 

In the summer time, about sixty rods from t^e hou'-e at Miltor 
Thomas's, th'-re was a thicket and spring where he hid the runaway slaves. 
Ov^^p 1 p Yp(] fi-<'tre'^. Fe wVistled a certain v/ay to ca^ the slavps un to 
their meals. If anybody miles away saw any strangers t^^ey thought might 
ho (wr^cr? they n'-tifed the keepers so that vhen the slave owners came 
the slaves would he hidden. 

"One time a slave '~v/ner traced his slave to M'irion from Kentucky. 
The finfe was he^vy for the ones that v/ere keepinc the slavps s > these men 
met and decided they would nut this nep-ro i^ a load of whpat to get him 
safely away. The mpu got the slave fixe'l in the wagon but no one wanted 
to take him v^ry bad because they would have to run an awful chalice of 
"ettin"- cau^^ht '^y the pw^er. so t>-ey drew straws and it fell to Milton 
Thomas to t"ke him. He started, b"t on the way he heard somebo^ly com- 
ing behind him r'--' it r.roveH t-^ >^e the slave's master. He slid: 'That 
vfip- ri lonh-p susnicious. I b'^lieve I'll investigate.' The owner anH mon t^pn 
untVr' the. draw strings and looked about the wagon but didn't find the 
j-vraw^y. so Milton got to Lagr-^ with the wheat and t^~e slivp ws s^fp. 

"Those were days thrt tried men's souls but we believed in doing our 
part to rid the country of the awful curse of slaverv." 

— Told to Mildred Thomas. 



WILLIAM DOYLE 

Mr. Doyle was born on the oh' Doylp farm, soi'thwpst of Van Buren, 
March 15, 1847. His father entered this land in 1837 or '38. 

His father had a deer '■'ark of aboi't twenty-eifht acres, fenced in 
with a ten-rail fence so the deer could not escape. These deer knew Mr. 
Doyle and would come up and eat out of his hand, but if a strancer an- 
proached they would hurry away frightened. Mr. Doyle fed them oats, 
corm, clover, hay, etc. He raised sheep in the park with the deor. 

Mr. William Doyle married Sarah Jane Hays over fifty years ago. They 



have always lived in, or near, Van Buren. 

Mr. Doyle was trustee of Van Buren Township for ten years and was 
assessor for the same length of time. In making reports he never varied a 
penny, but exactly tallied with totals. 

He has always been much interested in educational affairs and is a 
great reader. He is respected by all who know him. 



Snipe Hunting 

When the boys in olden days wished to play a trick on some one and 
have a little fun they often resorted to "snipe hunting." 

They would go to the creek or river, and, leaving the candidate for 
the trick holding a sack to catch the snipes, the nth-r boys would go to drive 
the snipes toward the sack. Instead of doing this they always made a noise 
as if they were really chasing snipes, while in reality they would run home, 
leaving the sniper to "hold the sack." 

^ 

The Sleigh Ride 

Spelling matches was a common amusement for both young and old 
many years ago. Groups of boys and girls organized and went to the 
school house or to private homes to hold these "matches." 

One cold night when some young fo^ks were going to a spelling match 
they were all in a bob-sled and going through the woods. The snow was deep 
but the road wfs fine for sieighing. The forest was so dense that they could 
see nothing but darkness on either s'de. 

Suddenly a lynx jumped out of the wood right into the sled. The girls 
screamed and the horses jumned into the air. So great was the confusion 
that the lynx became frightened and as suddenly as he had come, departed. 
No damage was done except the gii'ls were frightened so badly that they 
were net able to spell at all that evening. 



"A BOBCAT HUNT" 

Oliver P. Hix related how his father and a neighbor were out hunting 
one day. They had three bull dogs with them. By and by they saw a 
bobcat and tried to get it. They chased it from swamp to swamp and 
finally it went into a hollow tree that had been blown over in a wind storm. 
One of the dogs went in after it but the bobcat caught it by the head, so 
the dog could only back out bringing the bobcat with him, the latter still 
holding to his head. The other dogs jumped on the bobcat and it was soon 
killed. But the bull dog was not hurt by the rough treatment of the bob- 
cat. 

(The incident happened in Washington Township, G-r^-rit County). 

— William Lucas. 



UNCLE DAVY CONNER 

"Uncle Davy" was probably the first white man, aside from soldiers 
or French explorers, who came to what is now Grant County. He was sent 
by the government agent to t^e Miami tribe of Indians. He paid them 
for their land and dealt with them in furs. 

He came from Greenville, Ohio. Rumor says he came as early as 1812 
or '13. He carried government money to Fort Wayne in a wagon drawn 
by an ox-team. 

He entered land of the government as early as 1825. He located this 
land at favorable points along the Mississinewa river along the Indian 
trail. He is said to have owned as much as two thousand acres. 

Uncle Davy found the Indians very desirous of bartering for "fire 
water." Conner would buy this whiskey by the barrel, paying only twelve 
cents per gallon, then he would sell it for ten cents a pint (or half-pint 
perhaps.) 

He built a grist mill on the Mississinewa, later called Barley s mill, 
for the benefit of the pioneers. 

Conner was sick for quite a while before he died. James Sweetser 
would come out from Marion in a buggy — perhaps the first in Grant county 
— and take him driving. They were good friends. 

Uncle Davy's daughter found a keg of money in an old smoke house 
after his death which led many people to think he had a great deal of 
money hidden on his farm. People have searched in many places but 
found nothing. 



One of Mr. Conner's descendants has now in his possession land en- 
tries of David Conner's dating back to Andrew Jackson's and John Quincey 
Adams' administrations. 

The following is a letter written in 1844 to David Conner by a fur 
dealer: 

January 17, 1844. 
Dear Sir: — I have just returned home from the far west after a long 
and arduous journey of near- six months. 

H?ve much I wouldlike to say to you but the small space of a letter 
woul'' n"t s-'fRse to mal"e a be!?inning. 

I hope to see you between this and March. At present I only desire 
to say that we shall continue to purchase furs and skins as heretofore. I 
hope, if your health will permit, you will make us your usual collection. 

I have not yet sren Mr. Walker, hut presume he has seen or written 
to you on this subject. I so requested him when in the west when I found 
that neither W. G. Erving nor myself could get back until later in the 
winter. 

Our advices of last fall's prices from London were not flattering 
as to deer skins, but rather more favorable as to raccoon. They hope the 
latter will improve some, that is the real good skins, provided the catch 
this year should not be large. 

From preent indications and the best information I can get I am of 
the onininn thrt there are but very few raccoons this year. The very 
severe coh' weather l?pt fall must have destroyed many of them. 

This seems to be the word out north. I hope in the south, where you 
gather s^'ins, they may he more plentiful. 

With regard to prices, I hope that the collections can be made at about 
la?t year's prices. Of course, you will have to pay what the other regular 
purchasers pay. You will no doubt buy them as reasonable as y^u can. 

W. G. Erving returned home with me but is in bad health. I hope 
your health is good and your affairs prosperous. 

T exnect W?lker up to see me tomorrow and I will write you again 
shortly. 

I was all over the Miami lands in the west and attended the . 

There I saw all of them and all of our old Pottiwattime ^'riends. I was 
800 miles up the Missouri river and traveled from there across through 
the Sioux country to the Mississippi. Have seen much of the west. The 
Miami's have the best of all the Indian country except the Shawnee. They 
are on t'^e Kansas r"ver and in a most beautiful country. The Miami land 
i. nn t^-e Osa"e river and borders on the west line of the state of Missouri. 
It is good land and well timbered. I think you will like it well. 
I remain with esteem your friend and obedient =p''-var>t. 

GEO. W. ERVING 
To Mr. David Conner, Marion, Grant County, Ind. 

^ 

WILLIAM L. SAXON 
Mr. Saxon was b'>rn in Delaware County. Indiana, in 1844. He came 
to Grant County in 1852 and was raised near Converse. 

He went to the old-time log school house; would go bare-footed until 
the snow flew. . o -j 

He was raised within two miles of the Mississinewa battle ground, baid 
he had seen Old Chief "Shing" hundreds of timep. 

The Indians used to come to his father's house in groups of fifteen or 
twenty for som.ething to eat. They came, two and two. on ponies. If a 
fence should obstruct their trail they took it down but would not put it 
up again. 

His mother would give them corn bread. You had to treat them hos- 
pitably or they grew resentful. They never forgot a kindness, neither did 
thev forget unkindness. , , 

His father and he used to haul flour to the Indians where the Mississi- 
newa empties into the Wabash. They would stay over night and sleep on 
a pallet of skins which the Indians prepared for them. In the morning 
the Indians would cook a delicious breakfast of hot biscuits and venison 
or squirrel. ... . 

The Indians talked but little. When they were contraned they be- 



came dangerous. They often got drunk and would dance around a big 
fire. They were perfectly quiet when they danced. The squaws wore dark 
red and the Indians wore yellow blankets. Their chief, only, wore feathers 
in his hair. 



Mr. Saxon served in the Civil War, was in the 13th Indiana Light 
Artillery. He was in service two and a half years. 

The first political campaign he remembers was Lincoln's first election. 
Ihe times were crucial, and one had to keep quiet to keep out of trouble. 

Mr. Saxon has lived near or in Van Buren for thirty-seven years. 



MARTHA RENBARGER 
(Ly Chr stine Bechtol) 

Mrs. Renbarger was born in Dart County, Ohio, in 1842, and came to 
Indiana when thirteen years of age. 

Once when she was quite young her brother went to town and pur- 
chased a kerosene lamp that held about one cup of oil. That evening 
when they went to light the lamp they were afraid it would explode so they 
got a long stick and lighted one end of it, and stood away off and put the 
blaze to the lamp wick. They watched the lamp for a little while and see- 
ing that it did not "blow up" they approached cautiously and put the flue 
on it. 

They thought they were "aristocratic" when they got the lamp and 
would use it only to read by. Previous to this time they had used a 
"grease" lamp or read by the light of the fireplace. 

Mrs. Renbarger was at the funeral of Ne'son Ah-Taw-ah-Taw's squaw. 
After the preacher had preached a short sermon the Indian women came 
up to the corpse and talked to her in Indian dialect. They put a silk dress 
and silk shawl into the casket. After she was buried they placed a bowl 
of food beside the grave so she would not be hungry on her journey to the 
"Happy Hunting Ground." 

RICHARD DOBSON (80 YEARS) 

"Do not call me 'Mr. Dobson,' I am just plain Richard Dobson. I 
was born at Lzes, Linkashire, England, 'merr;e England,' Sept. 13, 1840. 
It has been a long time," said this kindly old man with blue eyes and white 
hair. 

He belonged to the Established Church of England. When he was 
young he was taken to Sunday school. After Sunday school the children 
were lined up and taken to the church, into the organ loft, where they had 
tc remain until after the service was over. They had to learn hymns and 
prayers, and could not treat the services of the church lightly, as many 
children do today. They were taught reverence for God's house. 

"I can remember when the 'Highland Grays,' Scotch soldiers, passed 
through our village on their way to the Crimean War. They were very 
large and imposing in appearance, ranging from six to six and a half feet 
tall, and wearing beaver head-dress and plaid kilts. There were over a thou- 
sand of these fine fellows. At the heights of Alma nearly three-fourths of 
them fell for they led the charge." 

One of his friends had a brother who was in charge of the famous 
"Light Brigade" at Balaklava. 

The first balloon he ever saw was one that had risen from a Fair that 
was held a short distance from Lees. A great storm was on and the balloon 
was driven over Lees, so low that it went between the tall chimneys of a 
factory. It was driven on and caught upon a crag where the balloonist 
was crushed to death. The sight of this great air monster frightened him 
very much for he was just a little boy. 

He early learned to play the flute and started out to see the world, 
hoping to support himself with the flute music. He came to the banks of 
"bonny Dee" and sighted Balmoral Castle, the summer home of English 
royalty. As he wandered on he was overtaken by a pony-team. He must 
have betrayed the fact that he was very tired for the lady in the vehicle 
told the driver to stop and take him in . He gratefully accepted thtf invi- 
tation and modestly conversed with the occupants, the kind lady, two girls 
and a boy. He played his flute for them also. When they came to Balmoral 
Castle the vehicle drove in and he found he had been riding with Queen 



Victoria, the Prince of Wales and his two sisters, the princesses. They 
invited him in and he remained there for ten days, at the end of which 
t:me tie Queen gave him a purse of ten sovereigns to be used for further 
study of music. He later became a member of the famous "Julian Band" 
and played for the Queen again and she gave him letters of introduction to 
other courts of Europe, among them being the German and Russian. 

He traveled much and finally came to the United States. 

He said the schools of England were very different from those of 
America. He had to learn many things by heart. When he wrote an essay 
or composition his master would tell him he had great talent with the pen. 

One master, Ambrose Harrop, he was very fond of. This master one 
time invited young Dobson to go with him to a political meeting to be held 
at Rochdale, some six miles away. They walked the entire distance, and 
when they got there the crowd was so great that it lifted Dobson off his 
feet and literally carried him two flights of steps where the speaking was 
held. And who were the speakers? No less celebrities than John Bright, 
Richard Cobden, Gladstone and La Bochere, editor of the "London Truth." 
John Bright was called the silver-tongued orator, for England never pro- 
duced a more forceful speaker. Dobson said no political gathering of history 
ever had a brighter galaxy of renowned statesmen than this one. He can 
never forget it. 

And at this point Mr. Dobson departed from his story long enough to 
comment learnedly upon English statesmen. Cobden was the first English- 
man to see the value of establishing commercial relatioins with France, 
England's life-long enemy. His idea was reciprocity or exchange of com- 
modities. America has produced but one man who could equal Cobden on 
reciprocity — James G. Blaine. 

John Bright was a Quaker and a powerful reformer. He came into 
prominence at a time when England needed social and political reform. 

Gladstone was England's "Grand old man" and surely he deserved the 
title. A massive figure in Parliament,, he dominated English politics for 
sixty years. He changed his belief many times, but always from conviction. 

Disraeli was not popular like Gladstone was, but withal, a very brilliant 
statesman and author. Born a Jew, the first to hold an office of trust in 
the British government. 

But perhaps England's most diplomatic king was Edward VII, (the 
one-time Prince of Wales that young Dobson had played with). Gladstone 
was his tutor in diplomacy and an apt pupil he was. He went to France 
incognito and learned the French ideas and beliefs. He studied the "inner 
life" of the great European courts and knew how to handle men. He earned 
the title of the "Peacemaker of Europe." ' , _ 

When a growing prince he was counted "wild"; in fact, England likened 
him, sadly, to the Black Prince. But in his short reign of nine years he 
astonished the world by his strokes of diplomacy', and,^ hati he lived, he 
might have been able to ward off the World Wai'. ' 

Mr. Dobson speaks with authority ort subjects like the' above for he 
has facts first hand. He is loyal to "61de 'England" ^nd 'at the same tirafe 
is an estimable citizen of the United States. When asked what he thought 
of our government he smiled and said: "It is good, very good, in many 
ways, but England 1s more democratic in some ways. For instance, the 
House of Lords, (the upptfr Engiish House), is a mere figurehead. All the 
power is in the Commons, li makes and unmakes King's. On the otheT hand, 
in the United States, almost unliniited power is given to the Sbnate, (the 
upper House), the Executive and his Cabii^et. In England an appeal to thfc 
popular voice is quickly made; in America, it is slow and uncertain. But 
it is a GOOD government even at that." ^ 

Mr. Dobson tells the following story which he never can forget: When 
I was a little chap I heard a returned missionary from New Zealand tell of 
his awful' homeward journey. The ship was storm-bound. Men froze tp 
the rigging and masts. He himself had frozen his limbs and could never 
affaiti W»^-<5r lie* dow#i. He sat continually. He was white-headed, n^ 

<m^f^\_f^ T.T«. . .-^ . ii~ r..i : ^^^ /^<^»^+o/»f \iritV< +Vio nanmhsaJai 



^^^^i {ms ^awful experience, and contact with the cannib^ 
srJA.i^Qne af the most interesting men .in Marioij. I*e is mild 



a^d'.^Sifl^ aa^bnte Ohris.tian and a^ loyal,-0tii^ft. ;..,N y-..-. ^ ; .:r'n4}.>7ta 



of 



MAJOR GEORGE W. STEELE 
Born in Columbia, Fayette County, December 13, 1839. 

"I was born on a farm in Fayette County near a little town called 
Columbia, We moved from there to Grant County in February, 1843. We 
came in what was called a 'one-horse jumper sleigh,' my father, mother, 
and little brother sitting on the front seat and I on the back. Of course 
I thought I was large enough to do most anything although I was only 
four years old. A sled brought our household goods. On our way in town 
we stopped at Reynold's tavern which stood where the Civic Hall now 
?tands. We then went to our home between Sixth and Seventh streets on 
Branson. My first school was between Sixth and Seventh streets on Wash- 
ington and my first school teacher wa^ '^m. A. Reele, later secretary of 
st?te. A lat°r teacher was John Low^.. .^arino; vacation. Mr. Lowe stayed 
at the Foster home on what was known as Foster's hill. As he did not 
have much to do, and no doubt the time seemed long and tiresome, one 
night he 'borrowed' Foster's horse and nobody has seen either since. It 
was the custom then to punish the bad boys in school by making them 
rock the baby. I was fortunate enough to escape, however, as they must 
bfvp had some regard for the baby. 

"One of the early calamities in town was a case of smallpox. Prac- 
tically every one who had any place at all to go, left town. The person, 
(s.n un..'le of the late Lew Cubberly) died, but that was the only case in 
town. 

"I remember well how the Miami Indians would come to town to trade 
their furs for f^^od. They always came on poonies, in single file, the women 
riding astride the same as the men. We were not afraid, as the Indians 
never did anything to harm us. One of my greatest early pleasures was 
to go with my father east of Jacobs' mill to see them catch the ponies. 
They had some troublesome ponies which they agreed to sell or trade to 
the whites for a small price. Mr. Sweetser had charge of the Indian 
trade here. 

"I enlisted in the army when I was twenty-one and left with the first 
company under Col. Wallace. The first year of the war I was with the 
Eastern army, but the last three years was with the troops which fought 
at both Chattanooga and Chickamauga, the latter being one of the hardest 
fought battles of the war. However, we drove the rebels away and then 
crossed the Tennessee river. Our food usually consisted of hard-tack and 
bacon. We often had to go three to five days on one day's ration. That 
was the hardest winter I believe I ever spent. 

"It was while here that I was asked to be captain of the first company, 
but as I did not feel capable of such a responsible positioon, I refused. 
Colonel Jones was then made captain. Company One was so large that 
part of us di'^banded, making a new company. Our company went on to 
Atlanta through Georgia and the Carolinas, and then on to Washington. 
There was ore continuous battle from May to September, from the time 
we left Chattanooga until we took Atlanta. At Washington the troops 
divided, some going to the sea and the others following Hood to the battle 
at Nashville. 

"To be a success, the army, like anything else takes team work. It is 
like a large family, each member must have confidence in the other. Some 
people seem to think the oflScers make the army. They do not, for what 
could the best of officers do if the soldiers in the common ranks were 
disobedient or did not have enough confidence in their superiors to believe 
they were right? Some of the best ofiicers were put in on an emergency 
case, such as sickness or death. 

"Ours were the last troops to leave Chattanooga, and mine the last 
regiment. We whipped those rebels to a 'stand-still' before we left. The 
most pathetic sight I have ever seen was that of one soldier carrying his 
wounded chum on his back trying to get him out of reach of the enemy[s 
fire. Even at such a scene I had to give the order for him to drop his 
friend, as the enemy was sure to capture them both and we could not afford 
to lose two men. Usually the wounded man would say to his friend, 'Go on, 
.Bill, I'll get along somehow,' but of course his chum hated to leave him. 

''We were much in need of supplies but since the rebels had Lookout 
Mountain we could not use the river at tha^ point to get the necessary 



articles. Finally we came to the place where something: had to be done and 
done quickly. We charged up the mountain, and how we fought! It was 
too important a point to lose and we finally drove the rebels out. We were 
there from November to May. It was so cold that we had to cut first the 
topped trees, then the stumps and fianlly the roots, to burn. We made 
coffee in our old tin cups, or in coffee pots if we were fortunate enough 
to have one. We dug holes in the ground and put our tents over them to 
keep from freezing. Our regiment had a wagon and six mules to haul our 
supplies in. We had hardly enough food for ourselves, let alone the mules. 
Two of them died from hunger. It was a pitiful sight to see those poor, 
patient mules gnawing and trving to eat the tongue of the wagon. 

"The next fall word was sent to the inhabitants of Knoxville, Tennes- 
see, to go south to Chattanooga or north. The ones going to Chattanooga 
were taken in govei-nment wagons, but were later taken through Rossville, 
five miles out of Chattanooga, to Taylor's Gap in Missionary Ridge. After 
the battle of Missionary Ridge, in which we took Lookout Mountain, I saw 
the most ghastly sights I ever saw in my life. Some of the fallen soldiers 
had been left lying on the ground with earth thrown over them, not even 
buried in a pit. The rains had washed the dirt off leaving the bodies of 
those dead heroes exposed to the weather. I spent the night with General 
Wheeler, a rebel, whose home was in Kentucky. I was the only Union 
officer present except the guards. The next morning the rebel soldiers gave 
me about eighty or one hundred open letters to mail. The contents con- 
tained chiefly in telling their relatives that they were still living and of 
their general health. I promised them that I would mail them unless the 
higher officials objected. The next week refugees, consisting of women, 
children, and very old or disabled men, came from Knoxville. I was again 
given letters to mail, this time more than a bushel. 

"Both North and South recuperated from November to May, getting 
ready for the spring opening. The first battle the next spring was fought 
at Taylor's Ridge on June 7th, '64. The battle line was from three to five 
miles long. We went on toward the sea and while at Savannah opened 
communication with the Atlantic ocean. We were never without plenty 
of supplies from then on except for a few weeks. Then we had plenty of 
rice but had to hull it ourselves, and that was no easy task. We marched 
after Bragg through the Carolinas, on to the battlefields of Virginia. There 
was nobody to fight there — the war was over. 

"When I was made major I was sick in the hospital. One day I was 
handed a paper containing the names of all who wished me to hold that 
office. It not only contained the names of all officers in the company, but 
was headed by the name of the man who would have become major in case 
I didn't. This, I believe, is the greatest honor I ever had bestowed on me." 

— Cleo Harter. 

* 

SOME OF THE FIRSTS OF GRANT COUNTY 
(By Don Volk) 

1. The first man to enter land in Grant County was Martin Boots, on 
October 19, 1825. 

2. The first marriage in Grant County was John MeCormick and Han- 
nah Hiatt in 1830 — license procured in Muncie. 

3. The first marriage license was to John Smith and Mary Ann Thomas, 
September 8, 1831. • ^ , „ , 

4 The first birth was that of Robert Malott, born to Reason and Sarah 
Malott, July 17, 1827. 

5. The first death was Charity, daughter of David Branson, 1826. 

6. The first court house was built in 1833 by James Trimble. 

7. The first jail was built in 1832. 

8. The first teacher of Grant County was Wm. James, 1828. 
9*. The first examiner was Morton Jones. 

10. The first county superintendent was F. D. Tharp, in 1872. 
11 The first Agriculture Society was former Sept. 3, 1853. 
12! The first fair was held in Grant County October 21, 1853. 
13. The first term of court was held April 26, 1832. 
14! The first attorney was Calvin Fletcher, 1832. 



15. The first Prosecuting Attorney was Caleb Smith, May, 1835. 

16. The first newspaper (The Marion Democrat Herald) John Gilbert 
editor. 

17. The first member of the Methodist church was Mrs. Brodrack, 1827. 

18. The firrt Mef^odist chvrch wrs b'i't ir i^"l. 

19. The first Presbyterian church was built 1886. Pastor, Rev. Post. 

20. The first Christian church w?s built M?v 2, 1839. 

21. Thefirst Cathol'C church wa.« built 1865. Rev. Father Kroege. 

22. The first Church of Christ was organized 1840. 

23. The first Quaker church was built Sept., 1871. 

24. The first Society of Medicine and Surgery July 1. 1874. 

25. The first Loan Association was organized March 4. 1872. 

26. The first Home Building Loan Fund was organized June 1, 1876. 

27. The first regiment was from Grant County March 22, 1861. 

28. The first Gravel Company was formed 1869. 

29. The first Medicine Bread was introduced in 1837. (Tartaric acid 
instead of soda.) 

3"^. The first stump pulling contest was in 1840. 

31. The first Mastodon w?s dug up by Joseph Bloomer (about 1838.) 

32. The first clerk of court was Jesse Vermi^ye. 

33. T) e first sheriflF was Beniamin Berry, 1831. 

34. The first treasurer was David Branson. 1837. 

* 

FIRSTS IN THE TOWNSHIPS 
Van Buren 

1. The first inhabitant of Van Buren was William M. Kerkpatrick in 
1836. (White.) 

2. The first school teacher was John Gilbert in 1840. 

3. The first Justice of Peace was Steven Corey in 1839. 

4. The first Methodist church was organized in 1842. 

5. The first organization of the "Disciples of Christ" was in 1840. 

6. The first saw-mill was built in 1848. 

Washington Township 

1. The first man to enter land was Reason Malott. 1826. 

2. The first m.ill for wood and corn was built in 1829. 

3. The first school house was built in 1837. 

4. "T-^e first Methodist Pr^t^stant church built in 1852. 

5. '^he first election was held in 1834. 

6. The first Justice of the Peace was Jesse Barrett. 

7. The fir!^t trading post was founded by David Bruner. 

8. The first post-office was built in 1830. Postmaster, Phineas Skinner. 

9. The first deaths wer- Seth Coleman and Mrs. Lenfesty. 

PIe?s?nt Township 

1. "^he first man to enter land was David Conner, Oct. 19, 1825. 

2. T^-e first Trading Post was founded in 1825. 

3. 7 he first church wrs built in 1847 — a Methodist. 

4. '^he first schorl house w?s built in 1832. 

5. The first election was held in 1833. 

6. The first death was Betsey Prickett, 1831. 

Richlrnd Trvnship 

1. The first man to enter land was Isaae Baldwin, in 1840. 

2. "^he first meeting was held 1843 by the Methodists. 

3. The first school house was built in 1844. ~''^f^^f' 

4. The first school teacher was James Highley.'^''^ f ; 

5. The first trustee was Cole Shackelford. 

6. The first marriage was Thos. Prickett to Susan Alexander. 

Center Township 

1. The first man to enter land was Martin Boots, Oct. 19, 1825. 

2. The first mill was built in 1826. 

3. The first county seat was located in Marion. 

4. The first meeting of Quakers was in 1828. 

5. The first school was built in 1830. 

6. The first school teacher was Elijah Thomas. 

7. The first election was held in 1829. 



1830 



8. The first marriage was that of Nelson Conner and Sally Boots, 1830. 
Franklin Township 

1. The first settler was Alfred Thorpe, in 1834. 

2. The first meeting-house was built 1848. 

3. The first school house was built in 1855. 

Mill Township 

1. The first man to enter .land was July 3l. 1826. 

2. The first meeting was held by Methodists in 1832. 

3. The first school house was built in 1833. 

4. The first teacher was Mahlon Neal. 

5. The first marriage was that of John McCormick to Hannah Hiatt, 
0. 

6. The first death was that of Samuel Adamson, in 1828. 

Monroe Township 

1. The first man to enter land was Geo. Lugar, May 18, 1833. 

2. The first school house was built in 1838. 

3. The first school teacher was Geo. Staekhouse, 1838. 

4. The first meeting in the township was 1837. 

5. The first Quaker meeting was in 1839. 

6. The first organization of the township was 1838. 

7. The first marriage was that of Elam Hiatt to Louisa Patterson, 1838. 

8. The first birth was William Hillman, April 21, 1836. 

9. The first death was that of Caroline Park, 1837. 

Jefferson Township 

1. The first man to enter land was David Conner, in 1828. 

2. The first meeting of the Methodists was held in 1836. 

3. The first school house was built 1835. 

4. The first school teacher was Joseph Allen. 

5. The first elections were held in 1833. 

6. "The first Justice of the Peace was Joseph Allen. 

7. The first mill was built 1838 — John Richards. 

8. The first post-office was built 1846. 

9. The first postmaster was Mason Brown. 

10. The first marriage was that of Geo. Bowers to Evaline Jones. 

11. The first birth was that of Justina Case, 1830. 

12. The first death was that of Rebecca Littler. 

Fairmount Township 

1. The first man to purchase land was Josiah Dille, June 10, 1829. 

2. The first church was built in 1831 — Quakers. 

3. The first Methodist meeting was held in 1837. 

4. The first school teacher was Susannah Baldwin, 1831. 

5. The first school house was built 1836. 

6. The first election was held in 1831. 

7. The first post-office was built in 1840. 

8. The first postmaster was Solomon Thomas. 

9. The first marriage was that of John Smith to May Thomas, Sept. 
1831. 

10. The first birth was that of Julia McCormick. 



FIRSTS IN THE TOWNS j 

Marion ! 

1. The first Quaker church was built in 1831. j 

2. The first school teacher was Susannah Baldwin, 1831. 

3. The first election was held in 1831. i 

4. The first post-office was built in 1840. 

5. The first marriage was that of John Smith to Mary Thomas, Sept. ' 
8, 1831. . j 

Fairmount ' 

1. The first laying out of Fairmount was Decembei- 28, 1850, by i 
David Stanfield. ,,„,,. i 

2. The first settler was Joseph Baldwin. i 
s! The first saw mill was built by James Cammach. 

Sweetser 

1. The first laying out of Sweetser was Sept. 18, 1871 by Dr. L. Prater. 

2. The first settler was L. Prater. 



Jalapa 

1. The first laying out of Jalapa was March 23, 1849. 

2. The first settler was Jacob Sprecher. 

Mier 
1. The first laying out of Mier was on September 11, 1848, by Chas. 
Parker and John Clair. 

Jonesboro 

1. The first laying out of Jonesboro was Dec. 8, 1837. 

2. The first settler was Obadiah Jones. 

Slash or (Normal) 

1. The first laid out in 1852. 

2. The first postmaster was Samuel Swan. 

Independence 
1. The first laying out was Feb. 25, 1851, by Daniel Bayless. 

* 

PRESENT DAY RURAL SCHOOLS 

The rural schools at the present time are not what they ought to be. 
Taxpayers are not getting value for their money, and their children are 
not getting what they are entitled to in the way of an education. 

No doubt school officials, both county and state, having the over- 
sight and control of our schools are sincere and honest, but it is possible 
that in their desire to keep pace with the rapid development and improve- 
ment alcng other lines of endeavor they have overlooked some of the essen- 
tials of a good school system. 

The elic'e^cy of any institution, educational, commercial, industrial 
or otherwise, is known by the product it puts out. 

That the rural schools of Washington township (and I presume the same 
will h^ld gord in other townships) are not turning out as good scholars as 
they did thirty-five or forty years ago may easily be known. 

There are fundamental principles underlying all success, whether it 
be in the religious, scientific, professional, or secular world. 

The common school branches constitute the fundamental principles 
of ?n e Ircation and if these principles are not well laid on a broad foun- 
dation the superstructure built thereon will not endure. 

In ot-er words, the pupil should be required to MASTER one grade 
before he is permitted to pass on to a higher grade no difference how long 
it takrs him to do it. Our boys and girls are being rushed through school 
(the grar^es) in order to get them into high school when they are not pre- 
pare! to take up the high school course. 

Assuming that children are not naturally any more intelligent now 
than they were forty or fifty years ago, experience proves that it requires 
longer than one term of six or eight months to thoroughly master and 
understand a subject. 

Before we had a graded school system much time was spent in review; 
now very little, if any, is done, hence the pupil has a very superficial 
knowledge of what he has gone over. 

The goal to be reached, or held up before the child mind is gradu- 
ation and a diploma, and many a boy or girl that has been permitted to 
graduate and receive a diploma has had instilled into his mind the idea 
that his education is finished and that he may enter upon his life work. 
He is therefore handicapped and poorly equipped to meet the competition 
of these strenuous times. 

About one-third of our common school graduates enter high school 
and a less number graduate from high school. Many are denied high 
school privileges on account of inconvenience, others because of expense. 

What is the remedy? Consolidation, better and more sanitary houses, 
better equipment, better teachers, longer terms, are some of the things 
recommended, all of which are good as far as they go, but the best of 
houses and equipment and even the best of teachers, good as these are in 
themselves, are not all that is necessary. 

In the opinion of the writer a return to some of the old-time methods 
would be an improvement. I know I am saying this in face of the fact that 
I shall be considered behind the times and called an "old fogy." Be it 
so, I have leved through all these changes and been an interested observer 
of the same. What I have said applies to the rural school, I know nothing 
about the city schools. 



JUDGE WILLIS VAN DEVANTER 

Although he was born in Marion, Indiana, sixty-two years a?:o. Judge 
Willis Van Devanter was appointed to the Supreme Bench from Wyoming. 

He went to Cheyenne when it was a frontier settlement, and prose- 
cuted "bad men" when he took his life in his hands to do it. 

Soon after he went west, Mr. Van Devanter became interested in poli- 
tics. He was elected city attorney of Cheyenne and was later a member of 
the Territorial Legislature, where he served as chairman of the Judiciary 
committee. 

He was appointed chief justice of the Territory by President Harrison 
and was one of the youngest men to fill that office. Later when Wyoming 
became a State, he was chosen for the same post at the fir«t election. He 
was always a Republican, and came "under the wing" of Senator Warren, 
who regarded him as a protege: In 1897 Senator Warren asked President 
McKinley to appoint Van Devanter as Solicitor General or to some equiva- 
lent office. "I'd like to," replied the President, "but he's too young." At 
that time Van Devanter was only thirty-eight. The Senator was not to be 
rebuffed. "Try him for thirty days," he urged, "if he does not make good 
at the end of that t^'me he will resign; but I will stake all I own that he will 
prove more than satisfactory." 

President McKinley v/as won over and named Van Devanter as assist- 
ant Attorney-General of the United States. He was assigned to the Interior 
Department and in six months had revolutionized the legal work there, 
and had brought more than two years' arrears of business up to date. 

Among other things he conducted the celebrated Lone Wolf case, in 
which the S^nreme Court for the first time defined the status of the Indian. 

Judge Van Devanter devised the plan of openina' Indian reservations 
by dr-^wing lots which dM away with the endless complications that always 
ensued from the old way. 

Pre-^-ident Roosevelt found him a man after his own heart and appointed 
him as United States Circuit Judge. 

--^s a young man Va^i Devanter was not subject to hardships that were 
common to the youth of his dsy. He had the opportunity of attending the 
Cincinnati Law "School and did not have to work for his board, for his 
father was a successful lawyer in Marion and had the means to educate 
his son. 

However, young Van Devanter was not from boyhood enthused with 
the porfession of law. He wanted to be a farmer and break colts! At an- 
other stage of development he wanted to be a fireman or a policeman, as 
most boys do. 

But his enthusTPsm for these occupations paled and one dav after he 
had been talking with his father he came home and threw himself across 
the bed and said: "Mother, if you'll let me go to a law school. I'll go to 
the top of the ladder." And today his dream has come true, for Judge 
Willis Van Devanter is one of e'ght Associate Judges who render the most 
important decisions in the world. 

But he has never given up entirely the idea of being a farmer, for 
nearly every summer he goes north to his country home and raises veg-^- 
tables and enioys the freedom of an out-door I'fe. 

When he was but thirteen years old he "put in" a field of wheat on his 
father's farm and no better wheat has been ra'sed on that f?>vm to tv^is da^•. 

Such, in brief, are a few facts in the life of one of Grant County's 
celebrities. We are proud of him as we are of many others who have 
reached "the top of the ladder." so far as fame is concerned. 



Tdmniled by Ronald Jacobson from articles in the IllustratiMl Woiid 
and Saturday evening Post, together with information obtained from Mrs. 
Van Devanter, mother of the Judge, who now resides in the Colonial Flats. 
^ 

LEWIS LOYD 

Lewis Loyd was born in 1839 in Ohio, and moved to Granf County 
when but three years old. 1S42. He now lives two and a half mile-< south- 
east of Roseburg. 

The first settler at Roseburg was "Dick" Roe, a shoemaker, but he also 
sold supplies to the early settlers of Roseburg. Mr. Loyd was only about 



fourteen years of ag-e when "Dick" Roe started his shop. "I can remember 
well my first trip to 'Dick's' shop. I watched him make shoes for two 
hours, as he was the first sh)e maker I had ever seen. My shoes were always 
made of deer skin before Dick' Roe came to this neighborhood." 

There was an abundance of game when Mr. Loyd was young. He 
never saw but one bear, but shot many deer, wild turkeys, foxes and other 
game. The north and south line of Mr. Loyd's farm was the boundary 
established by the government between the whites and the Indian Reser- 
vation. "The Indians were friendly to my father and his family," said Mr. 
Loyd, "and would let us hunt on their land, but some settlers thoy would 
not permit to cross the line because they cheated the Indians. 

An old Indian trail ran southeast and northwest from Delaware County 
up through Roseburg past Mr. Loyd's farm. He said he could remember no 
Indian cemetery in Grant County except the one at Indian Village, near 
Jalapa. 

When asked if he remembered Sam McClure, he replied: "Well, I 
should say I do remember Sam McClure. I worked for him for twelve 
years. He used to get the better of the Indians when they came to trade 
with him. I have known him to buy a pony of an Indian for a half-gallon 
of wh'skey. It all depended upon how bad he thought the Indian wanted 
the goods what price he asked for them. Ole Sani would ask a plenty 
for his goods. 

"There used to be a hotel where the I. O. Crawford store is now. It 
was net very c^ean nor sanitary — just a kind of shack. 

"I cannot remember the great flood of 1847 myself, but I recollect 
hearing people talk about riding in boats to Jim Sweetser's store." 

Mr. Loyd expressed ? wish for the return of the "good old days"; he 
does not like the age of "autos." He is a very pleasant old man. As we 
left he said : "I forgot to tell vou Roseburg was named for 'Dick' Roe." 

— Told to Kenneth Rudolf. 

* 

MRS. MORRIS BLUMENTHAL 
Mr?. Ida Marks-Elumenthal was born in Rochester, New York, Oct. 
8, 1848. She lived there unt'l she was eighteen when she married Morris 
Blumenthal and came "west" soon after her marriage, coming to Peru, 
Ind., on a visit, and later came to Marion in a buggy, as there were no rail- 
roads through Marion at that time, although six weeks later the Pennsyl- 
vania had completed its line. 

Mrrion \v?s a small town without any street cars or modern conveni- 
ences. A small brick court house was located where the present court 
house now stands, and a little log jail stood on Boots street north of the 
present postoffice. 

People alw?ys carried a lantern after nightfall when passing the jail. 
Pips r?n loose alDout the public snuare and there was everywhere the air 
of the primitive. 

Abiut 1870 there was a contest between Jonesboro and Marion as to 
which town should be the county seat. Marion won by a very few votes. 

Horse csrs were first used about 1885. The line ran from the public 
squai-e to the present site of the Pennsylvania freight office. 

A fire in town was an exciting occasion, bucket brigades being formed 
and women helping to fight the fire. 

The g^s boom of 1885 or '90 increased not only the population of 
Marion, but also the commerce and general welfare of the town. Marion 
began to be a "city" and improved in every way. 

h^^e every town Marion has its share of we'rd and uncanny incidents. 
One tim.e a "ghost" was said to make its habitat near the old Washington 
street bridge. Excitement ran high, but when the less impulsive inhabi- 
tants investigated the "ghost" was found to be -^ thing more formidable 
than a little timid female dressed up to imitate the immaterial. 

And so Mrs. Blumenthal has watched "our Marion" grow from a small 
"burg" to a great industrial city with modern sky scrapers and civic beauty. 
She says life is worth while and full of good things for him who pays 
the price. 



SARAH JONES (COLORED) 

"I don't know nothin' about my age 'cept in the yeah the war started 
I was eighteen," said Sarah Jones. She must have been born about 1842, 
according to this statement. She was born in Carthage, Indiana, where her 
father owned a very large farm and raised mules. 

She said "Ah neber was inside a school house in mah life and don't 
know nothin' about it at all. Mah father always said 'No sah, yo don't go 
to no school. The kids thar teach you' to be bad,' and he neber did let 
one of us go. Ah neber was off our farm, not even to go to town, or on 
the next do' neighbor's farm fo' mah father said that's way we learned bad." 
She says she was "free born" and never knew what a slave's life was 
but from her description of how she was treated by her father she was 
pretty near to one. His name was Lassiter and was known for his fine 
mules, and she said the same whips were used on her as were on the mules 
She had to plow and work in the fields when a very small child. 

Until she left home when they moved to Fairmount when she was 
grown, she was not allowed out of her father's sight after dark and if she 
was, she was flogged with the mule whip. 

Sarah Lassiter was married to Archey Jones a good many years ago 
but she doesn't remember the year. She said the reason she didn't know 
anything was because of her not being allowed to go to school and all the 
books that were ever in her family she was either too tired or too stubborn 
to ever learn more than A, B, C, D. 

She had several brothers and sisters but she and a brother are the 
only ones left. 

One little incident that was rather funny that she remembered, she 
told as a joke on herself because she mixed her words up so. 

One day she was trying laboriously to thread a needle for some patch- 
ing she had to do and after trying a good while in vain exclaimed, "Me 
can't see the needle of me eye," instead of the eye of the needle. She 
laughed heartily over this. 

She said after they moved to Fairmount she left home and came to 
Marion to work. She worked in the Spencer hotel for eight years and 
since has done housework. The past few years she has worked for Henry 
Shugarts. She always goes to bed at nine o'clock and is always up before 
five in the morning and then walks out to Shugarts, (about two miles) and 
works all day, then walks back in the evening. She does this rain or shine 
and says it don't wear her out much. 

She said she went back to Fairmount every once in a while so long 
as her mother lived, but now she was gone she never went back. "My. how 
I loved my mammy and she is the only puson who eber did love me." These 
words were very tender, about her mother, for she said that it was her 
mother who used to try to teach her, but she herself wouldn't allow it. Her 
mother always helped her in everything she did. 

In conclusion she said, "Oh, I'm awful glad the Lord let me live and 
He sho' meant fo' me to work, fo' all I'se done all my life is jist work hard 
all the time fo' that is all I eber done but I am awful glad I got to libe." 

— Mary Herzog. 

* 

MRS. WILMORE'S STORY 
Mrs. Wilmore was born in GuiH'ord County, North Carolina. October, 
1829. She is the oldest of twelve children, seven of whom are living. 

Her early home was in the midst of the slave district, so she spent 
almost as much time with a colored "mammy" as she did in her own home. 
The negroes always made over her, saying "Lord bless this child, and may 
she lib to be an ole lady." They were always praying for her hoping she 
would have a long and happy life. Their prayers came true. 

She can remember many a time of seeing droves of slaves coming 
down the road, often as many as five hundred at a time. A chain separated 
the men and women, who walked double file. The women were handcuffed 
on one side, the men on the other. For miles down the road you could 
track them by blood. The roads were made of sand, which in the hot sun 
would burn their feet until they were blistered. They had no shoes. 

As they marched they would sing. Marching Through Georgia" in a 



pathetic sort of way. 

When a man wanted to sell his slave the darkey was hot allowed to 
say a word or even look up as the buyer scanned him closely. If he did 
either he was struck with a blacksnake whip. 

Mrs. Wilmore left Carolina when seven years of age and spent one 
year in Virginia with her aunt, at the end of which time her family started 
to Indiana in a little spring wagon drawn by ponies. They were nine 
weeks on the road and landed at Newport, Wayne County. 

She went to a one-room school house with a big fireplace. When they 
wanted to put a new back log on the fire they would take a horse and fasten 
a chain to both horse and log, then drive the horse right through tic iriddle 
of the school room. By the time the horse got to the opposite door the log 
would be up to the fireplace. 

The last school she attended there were men and women of forty and 
fifty years of age attending. 

The teacher took turns "boarding around" with the pupils. She was 
always glad when the teacher came to her home for they always had "light 
biscuit," at other times they had only corn bread. She even took corn 
bread to school for her school lunch. 

When on their way to Indiana they stopped in an old log house to 
rest awhile and her youngest brother fell into an old well. She rescued 
him at great peril. Another time her oldest brother, fell into the river and 
she saved him also. 

She was married when nineteen years of age and came to Huntington 
County, 

She attributes her old age to obeying the command, "Honor thy 
father and thy mother that thy days may be long upon the land which the 
Lord thy God giveth thee." She also thinks that the colored mammy's 
prayer had something to do with it. 

She had an aunt who lived to be over one hundred, an uncle who was 
one hundred and one. Her father lived to be ninety-seven and her mother 
eighty-nine years of age. 

* 



THE OLD DAYS AND THE NEW 

O, the old days, the old days. 
When everyone was kind, 
When everyone a helper was 
And there was peace of mind. 

O, the old days, the old days, 
So many years ago, 
And yet it seems but yesterday — 
I love those old days so. 

O, the new days, the new days, 

When everyone's possessed. 

When all are mad to "get rich quick" — 

There is no time for rest. 

O, the new days, the new days, 
They are too much for me! % 

I only ask to wander back 
To the days of "use-to-be." 

— Cora M. Straughan. 
(This little poem was suggested by the old people with whom I have 
talked in getting material for this book. Almost everyone longed for the 
"good old days.") 



In the early years of the nineteenth the only inhabit- i 

ants of what is now Grant County were the Miami Ind- | 

ians. I 



As the white settlers came the Miamis were placeb on 
"reservations"; some of them being sent to the West or 
the "Unknown Country". 

A few of the descendants of these early Miami Ind- 
ans may yet be found in the County. 

Most of the following stories are told by older citizens 
who remember the Indians in their native haunts. 



HISTORY EXCJRSION TO THE LACT HOME OF THE MIANflS 

Une Saturday 1 made a special trip to Indian Village (the Indian 

the dilapidated condition of this historic spot in Grant County 

I am sorry to say that most of what I had heard was true. The old 
church has fallen to decay. Part of the roof has been removed by storms 
and inclement weather, and the rain and snow fall upon the sacred pulpit 
and Bible stand Tie window panes are brokm and both doors off their 
hinges. The old bell has fallen from the belfry, the plastering from the 
walls and ceilinj., tie spfts ha^e .c -, '-- trom t e.r placps and 

tumbled carelessly against the walls. Everything spoke sadly of neglect. 

I did all I could to restore the seats and put in order such things as 
one individual could handle, but it was a poor service I rendered, for with- 
out the aid of a ci Renter net much ct rU le done. 

Then I went into the cemetery hrc^- -f tVe chur'^V>. a lovply God's 
Acre, where are sleeping the last of a proud tribe, the Miamis. Old Chief 
Mesmgomesia and family. Coon Bundy and relatives and other braves lie 
here in their last sleeo. "The dead lie her- alone." 

Going down the rows of graves I fo'^nd thirty-two graves marked 
vnth monuments or slabs of old marble; fourteen marked with boards, only 
one or two of which had legible inscriptions, and twenty-six others un- 
marked, making in all seventy-two gravfp. 

Many of these were in bad condition, being sunken and neglected. 
When some of t'-e graves were new it is evident that young trees had been 
planted upon them, for now large trees are growing in the center of many 
of them. Rose bushes are growing, uncultivated, in many parts of the old 
cemetery. 

One grave, newer than the rest, I tried to restore by removing the 
grass and weeds and placing a border around it of rocks. Then I planted 
on it several bunches of blooming violets, a few ferns and one wild white 
flower. 

This being dore I started south to the place that had been pointed 
out to me as Meshingomesia's old home. I saw no trace of hut or wigwam, 
but instead a nice modern brick house. Upon inquiry a young woman very 
graciously informed me that the former site of the old Chief's house was 
some six hundred yards farther on in a southern direction. 

"You are now on the old Miami Reserve," she said, "flints and arrows 
are often fovrd here. WorVl you like to see a picture of old 'S>iine's' cabin? 
Father tore down the old hut to make room for improvements," and with 
these words she hastened to bring an old album containing a kodak view 
of Meshingomesia's old cabin, and a negative taken a little later she gave 
me so I might have some prints taken from it. 

Thanking her for her kindness, I hurried on to the place she had 
indicated as the site of the hut, but no traces could I find so I went on 
through fields of corn and wheat until I came to a house around the bend 
of the Mississinewa river, situated near Conner's Mill. 

"O, yes, I can show you where 'Old Shing' lived," said the lady of the 

house above referred to, "Mrs. and myself are the only ones living- 

who went to the old Indian church when Coon Bundy was the preacher. 
1 was a friend and neighbor of 'Old Shing' as long as he lived. You are 
now standing on the very ground where the battle of the Mississinewa was 
fought. You see that little wood yonder? Well, thft is where the Indians 
had their hiding place when they attacked." Then following her directions 
T came to the place where old Chief Meshingomesia's cabin stood. It is now 
a wheat field, but I found a few old broken dishes and a piece of mortor 
that proved I had found the place. 

"There is a feeling half of reverence, half of pity, that comes to one 
as he views the scenes of these historic places. There is so little left to 
remind one of the Old Days when the Miami roamed at will over the hills 
and forests of Grant county. — Homer Kells. 

* 

LOUISE MILLER-WINTERS 
Adopted Daugkter of Chief Meshingomesia 

Louise Miller was born on the Wabash river, near Wabash, eighty-nine 
years ago. 



Her motlier was murdered when Louise was only one month old It 
seems that her mother had been to an "adoption" ce-emony and was r-- 
t'^rnmo- hone on horsebacV with little Loir>e cuddled in front of her An 
Tnd'an, who was -'e^lors of her husband, followed and ptfb^orl ber. Lit>le 
L-Miif-e ^eH from th« nony to t^e ground and cned. An old Indian, not far 
away, beard the child cry and told bis pouaw t>iat he h-ard a child cryino- 
She said he was surely mistalen; but again the baby^ wail brought the 
T'idian to its rescup. It was ^-vanned in a b^ank'^t. They cared for the 
little pappoose until Oief Me^^-ino-orviesia asked for it. He had two boys, 
but no g^rl, so he aF-ked to a-'ont little Louise, savino- he would treat her 
as his very ov/n child, and Mrs. Winters says he lived up to his promise, 
for both h-s souaw and old "Shing" "-ere very good to her. 

Her real father's name was Miller. He was an Irishman and her 
mother was a French-Indian. 

Mr. Milder was an ap-ent and sold calico and ot^er goods needed by the 
pioneers, so he frav^ little Loris-e most r-f her drps^e^. 

She says the Indian^ lived mostly in t^nts when she first remembers 
t^em. Th'-y ate deer n-e^t and hominy. They would cut a bisr slab of 
vonison ham and hold it over the fire until it was brown and dry. When they 
pot ready to e-^t it the f -n- yr.,^.! -.--^ if ]^ r c--!- -v v^-f p "lo+v, rjv'^v -"t 
then she v-m-M u^e l^er foot and "tromn" it until it was soft, then she'd 
put it in a pot ovpr t^e fire and cook it v/ith "Indian co^-n." Good! 

She re^^pmb^v'^ when the Government divided t^e Reservation and sent 
pavt-' r-e '^rd'p-F W^si. W'-e- T o-^ o^l jf fi^ny hrtr-^ +- -- -'-c .p^ri- "-i.. 
,p'i'."cious, yov o'-eht to have heard them crying— and we nevpr saw them 
aga^'n. '''h^y did n^t divide families. They we-^ riowu t'^e Wabash river 
on bof ts '^'^l^ed by horses on shore. They took all they had, which was not 
much, with them." 

Mrs. Wi^t^i-s in suite of her eiq-hty-nine v^ars, walks long distances. 
gVe so-net'mes st-^^ls away fro-i her daughter, M>-«. Au'na Wimmer'^ home, 
T'""r t^'e D-^^-n hill, and walks to L^jfontaine, eight miles away. "If I go, 
I've got to go that way. I In'^-p a FO^"^"' — nojutijig to ''^pr fppt. P'-e 
said she did not know Frances Slocum, "That's a woman I've never seen, 
hut r--e heard them talk abont her a lot." 

Sh<^ r^orr'od Joreph Winter'^ many, many years as-o. He has been 
cie-^d a>^out twe'^ty-two yp?rs. Old "^hing" mar>'iod +^"m. Mrs. Wimmer 
said " 'Shing' did about everything. They did not go by law in those days." 

I asl-ed Mrs. Wiri+e'^s i^ s^'e ever heard of f-e "Gr^at Snirit." "O. yes, 
■>'e«" she said. "Meshirrrp-e'ia M'as that kind. Hp talked to the Great 
Spirit, and could foretell events, or call up snints at will." 

T askod h"r if she ^-"d ever heard "ranniv-o--." "O. yps. yes. it madp 
me tremble. The dog, even would try to get out of the room, and would 
s'-ratrl-' at the door. I ^•^■■e SFFN Suirit's. I have seen Me^hingomesia 
since he diod. He seemed happy," at which remark her daughter said, "I 
think phe dreams" 

"I've been bad scared at times. I was afraid of the whites when I was 
a little girl. The whites were mean to us — stole our ponies." 

S^e remembers i^earing the Indians talk of the Battle of Mississinewa. 

"I've never beer sick. Don't know what a doctor bill is. I ail, but 
get over it. T «V-f good." 

When asked if sle believed in God, she said: "0, yes, I believe in God. 
Don't know when I'vt been to church; our church broke up and is nearly 
'tore' down, but I'll li" e with God when I'm gone." 

"0, yes, come back again. I'm old; don't know how long I'll live. My, 
I like to talk to you. I NEVER forget anybody that has been good to me," 
and with that the old, old lady seemed tired and I loft her. a pathetic 
figure of a fast dying race, with contentmont and native simplicity trans- 
figuring t^ p old wr'nkled visage of one of the last of the Miami's. 

He-i- cl Id was the first person buried in the Indian graveyard, west of 
Fox S^^i.l^'on. - — Cora Straughan. 

* 

WILLIAM ROGERS 

William Rogers was born Septtunl^ov f.. 1845, in Preble County, Ohio. 
He ha? lived in Grant County since lSr>2, where the family located in th-^ 
Miami Reservation. When he came here Jalapa was a forest with only an 



occasional log cabin. Just north of the Mississinewa river there were five 
hundred Miami Indians. They were not a brave tribe as some Indians 
are — they had been subdued, and were afraid of the whites, therefore were 
not a warlike tribe. 

The Miami Reservation at first included all of the western part of 
Grant County, probably extending as far west as Kokomo, but it had been 
reduced by cessions to the government. There Indians had come from 
Ohio, had been driven west with the frontiers of civilization. 

Mr. Rogers said some of the chiefs were Osandiah, Little Turtle, 
Josinah, and John Richardville. Meshingomesia was the last chief of the 
tribe. 

The battle of Mississinewa was fought December 18, 1812. The Indians 
were taken by surprise. 

Legend says that for renown Col. Campbell took forty or fifty Indian 
prisoners, among them being a young girl. Her dusky lover appealed to 
Peon, a warrior. So Peon led the Indian forces and attacked Campbell. 
The Indians were defeated but succeeded in getting their prisoners. 

Mr. Rogers also saw the trees on the battlefield and they were full 
of bullets ten feet above the ground. The whites had aimed too high to 
do their deadliest work. 

Legend also says that after the battle the Indians dug up the white 
soldiers who had been buried by their comrades, scalped them, then burned 
them. One man said he saw the scalps in a walnut stump. A lady in Ohio, 
who had lost a brother in the battle, sent to officials in Grant County to 
have his body exhumed. Judge St. John and another man dug in to the 
grave but found nothing except a watch. This sounds like the above story 
might be true. 

A man by the name of Sam Gilpin cultivated the land of the battle- 
field and plowed up a wagon load of horse bones, blunderbusses — a large 
pistol of a peculiar make — and horse pistols. 

The weapons used by the Indians in this battle were guns and scalping 
knives. 

Mr. Rogers says the Miami Indians sold part of their furs at old Davy 
Foster's trading post at Kokomo. The trail went southwest from Jalapa 
to Kokomo. 

Missionaries worked among these Indians at an early day. The first 
priest he remembers was Bruellet, who preached in the Indian dialect, and 
a Mr. Slocum interpreted into English. The Indians would meet out in the 
open woods in great audiences. e 

Later a white man, named Babcock, organized the Baptist church 
among the Indians. 

The primitive Miami Indians believed in the Great Spirit. They thought 
He came up out of the water, so it was not a great departure from their 
original belief to baptism. 

In the "50's" when an Indian died the family vacated the hut where 
the death occurred. They would return to it at certain times, according 
to the moon, and burn feathers. They thought this kept his spirit away, 
they did not want it to return. , , , 

Before they buried the dead the chief placed his hand on the dead 
Indian's forehead and told him not to come back. They then adopted 
another Indian into the family to which the deceased belonged. 

The ceremony of "adoption" was very interesting. The day previous 
to the adoption the Indians piled brush and logs — combustible substances — 
and formed a circle fifty feet in circumference. When the adoption time 
came an Indian sat in the center of this circle where there was usually an 
empty beer keg filled partially with water, with a deer skin over the top 
like a drum head. The Indian would beat this instrument and the braves 
and squaws around the circle would keep time to the weird rhythm until 
some of them were utterly exhausted. This dance lasted a long time. The 
Indian to be adopted was "togged" up in his best "regalia" — necklace, 
anklets, feathers and blanket. This strange sight Mr. Rogers has seen 

many times. , , ,,. . ^ ,. 

Mr. Rogers knows more about the Miami Indians than any man now 
living. He has been a student of their habits and customs from childhood, 
is seventy-five years young. , , , , , , , , 

He is an admirable old man — not old, for such as he never grow old 



He has been a minister in the Methodist Protsstant church for many 
years, indeed was one of the founders of that church in Grant County. 

He told about three "glorious" weel-s that he s^ent in the Sankey 
school at Chicago under the direct tutorage of that blessed Saint of God. 

Rev. Rogers says the secret of success is moral honesty and unselfish- 
ness. 

"I'm optomistic. I think we're laving in the Morning of Life! I do 
not think 'God will permit anjr providence to d'^stroy the world now. Since 
the great World War I have burned all my manuscripts and when I preach 
I prepare from the beginning. LIFE IS V/ORTH WHILE. It is time to 
quit the droning of voice, and saying what everybody believes." 

• * 

MRS. VIOLETTA VAN DEVANTER 
"Well, I don't know ps I can tell you much," said this white-haired 
lady who is now 83 y^ars "young." 

"I was born in Sidney, Chio, in 1838. When I w^s ele-"'"^ years old 
my father moved to Marion and I have lived here erer since — 72 years. 

"Marion was then only a village of about 6C0 inhabitants. We went 
to the Butter House (Fifth and Adams) until we could find a place to stay. 
This hotel had a t^tal numher of about twelve rooms. Then we found two 
rooms across from where the K. of P. hall is now, and we stayed there 
until my father bought the Spencer farm. 

"There were no public schools then; nothing but nrivate ones. I at- 
tended one of these, located on Boots street and Spencer Avenue. The 
teacher was Mr. Lowe. We read out of the Bible (which they knew far 
better than the average pupil of today). The teacher would give us prob- 
lems, as we had no book f'^r 'sums.' 

"The town has certainly changed since then." s?id Mrs. Van Devanter. 
"Why, when we came the mud was hub deen in front of the 'Butler House.' 
The cemetery was at the top of the hill on Third stre-^t. Beyond this cern- 
etery was a thickly wooded forest. I have been told thr^t a man and his 
son started through this to a neighboring farm house. They got lost some 
way and when they didn't come home people took torches and went in 
search of them. After two days they found tie S'n dead and the father 
unconscious from mosquito bites. 

"The mea~is of travel was very inconvenient. Ther? was a stage from 
Anderson to Marion, which stopped at Jonesboro and Fairmount. The 
stage went down to Eighth and Adams and turning there went down to 
the river and followed the rivf^r around to Jo"e-boro. This road was 
rather bumpy, as it was made of logs with a little dirt spread over them, 
for the land* was swampy and the logs would sink when the stage went 
over. There were no bridges then. 

"I went to Sabbath school at the Methodist church, then located be- 
tween Wpshington and on Fifth street-. 

"Tn the winter we used to slide down hill on chairs. 
"When the first railroad was built through Mf-inn my husband was 
attorney for the company. This was a source of great comment by the 
inhabitants. 

"My, just think of the inventions since then! They used to put the 
wheat on the barn floor and flayed it out. Then it was run through a 
windmill and the chaff blown away. 

"There was an old Indian camp over by Jalana then. My husband was 
attorney for them when the land was divided up by the government. Com- 
missioners were sent from Washington to divide it, giving land to the 
'worthy' ones. Ee"ore this they all lived in a kind of villa-re but aTtor th?y 
got their own land they disbanded and lived in their own little huts on their 
own Ipnd. , . / . , , ^ 

"The Indians have been badly treated. It never seemed just right to 
me that they should be cheated out of the land that was given to them. 

"Meshingomesia was their chief and when they came to town they 
would file in on their horses single file and traded at a store owned by Mr. 
McClure. When Meshingomesia died they chose William Peconga as their 
chief because he was the best suited for the place, having had better 
.advantages. 

"The most prominent families that I rec;ill now were the bweetsers, 



Wh--te= McChires. Websters, Dr. Shively; both the Lomaxes', Hogins', 
Steeles' and the Swayzees'. 

''Mar'on bnomed when gas v/as discovered thirty-five years ago We 
would have had that yet, but Deople were so wasteful of it. 

"I have five children living; I lost three. They all have been such a 
comfort to m-. You Vvr.w I have one son who is now Social Justice on the 
Supreme bench," paid Mrs. Van Devanter, proudly. (And who wouldn't be 
proud of s^ich an honor?) 

"I certaiDly am glad if I have been of any help to you and if you wish 
to know more I will be glad to help you." 

— Told to Ava Hutton. 

^ 

A SQUAW SUICIDE 

A long time ago there was an Indian smiaw who^e husband was vpry 
nuarrelsome. They lived on the banks of the Mississinewa river between 
Marion and Jalapa. 

One day after a very seve^'e quarrel the poor squaw was so down- 
hearted that she decided to end her misery. 

There was a large rattlesnake den about three and one-haK miles north 
of Marion where many rattlesnakes ex'sted. Tt was l^catpd in what was 
called the "Drv'Ts Backbone." People nsed to sit on this ledge and shoot 
the s^iakes as they came out of their holes in the den. 

This souaw thought of this method as a means of endins? her li-'^e and 
immediately made up her mind to try it. She crawled into the cave and 
that was the last that was ever seen o fher, so every one supposed she had 
been devoured by the snakes. 

A.N INDIAN BURIAL 

In early times the Indians had a method of bnry'ng their dead in trees 
or on platforms, so that wild animals could net r^^pch them. B"t in Hter 
years they dug shallow graves for they did not believe in burying them 
very deep under the e^rth. 

They always bm-ied their belongings with them. If a warrior died 
they buried his weapons, blankets, and war costumes wit^^ him. and over 
his grave they placed his horse or dog, w^ich h^d be^n killed. It was be- 
lieved that they would help him in the "Ha-ony Hunting Ground'^." 

The relatives brought food and placed it ne^^r the grave. The wolves 
and other animals wonld often come and e'^t the food but his relatives 
thought his spirit had taken it during the night. 

When rhi°f Toy T"y'« M'ife dip-h he'- t-o rip"-V'«v=: i.-^-.o.i-l p wI^oIa Kolt 
of silk and with her iewelry and oth^r belongings, buried with her. These 
were thought to be of use in the next world. 

*• 

AN INDIAN ADVENTURE 

Onp bri'yht summer day, we children were out nlaying on the green 
grass. It was a half-holiday and we had no work to do. We were running 
and playing and at last found that we were some distance from home. A 
startled cry of "Look, the Indians!" brought to us the necessity of getting 
home quickly. 

Starting toward home we ran as fast as possible, for the dread of the 
Indians had not as yet disappeared from the little settlement of whites. 

The Indians came on faster and faster and nearer and nearer. At last 
we reached our house. Just as we reached our front door the Indians 
reached our front gate. 

We heard a cry and to our horror beheld "Baby Helen," as she was 
called by every one, standing half way between the Indians and ourselves. 
What would happen to her? We stood rooted to the sDot. The Indians 
stopped on seeing her, as if surprised. 

An old Indian squaw begged us to let her hold the ''white pappoose." 
Mother did not know what to do for if she did let the sauaw hold Helen 
she might carry her off and if she did not, the Indians might kill or cap- 
ture us and burn our property. 

At last, getting a promise from the Indian to be very careful, mother 
let her have Helen, who laughed and jabbered like a young jay. Helen was 
happy, there wasn't a doubt of that, for she started playing with the 
Indian's beads, saying, "petty, petty." 



The squaw's face grew brighter and her eyes sparkled as if glad to 
hold Helen. All this time we children had stood back wondering what she 
would do next. 

She, although unwilling, at last put Helen down, dropping a string 
of beads and a pair of leather moccasins in her lap, and saying "Good-bye, 
white pappoose," silently went away with the rest of the Indians. 

P. S. — A story told by Eliza Carey of her adventure with the Indians. 
This is a true storv and "Babv Helen" was her sister. 
^ 

REMEMBRANCES OF W. F. TUDOR 

In the year 1859 I saw a herd of ten or twelve deer on the Delphi road. 

About 1868, when seventeen years of age, I drove a huckster wagon 
over parts of Grant and surrounding counties. On one of my trips I met 
one of Meshingomesia's granddaughters and fell in love with her. 

I have tried many times to hold conversation with Meshingomesia but 
was unable to understand him for he talked in Indian dialect. As I remem- 
ber him he was of medium height and heavy set, and had a few gray hairs 
on his chin. 

I have ridden on the Delphi road west of Marion when the horses' feet 
popping in the mud made a noise like a shot gun. The horses would have 
to rest every little bit. 

While living in Monroe township a neighbor and myself found it neces- 
sary to mark the trees so our children could find their way to school. We 
did this by cutting a chip from the side of the tree. 

* 

OLIVER PERRY HIX 

"I have lived in Grant County nearly 83 years, so I ought to know 
something about early days. My parents came from Cedarville, Ohio, in 
1834, and settled in Washington township in Grant County, where I was 
born, October 29. 1838. 

"This was all forest then with once in a while a bear, panther or 
wolves prowling about, with squirrels as thick as English sparrows. Then 
there were pheasants, turkeys, quail and once in a while an eagle. Then 
for variety, there were 'oppossums, coons, skunks, porcupines, foxes, minks, 
weasles and groundhogs. There were rattlesnakes, spotted milk snakes, 
garter snakes, blue racers and black snakes. 

"If a person were bitten by a rattler he was made drunk with whiskey 
as quickly as possible. Oftentimes they died from the snake bite. The per- 
son bitten would swell quickly and suffer great agony. 

"A rattlesnake has one rattle, or 'button,' for every year it is old. 

Once in a while a lynx would go through the country causing fear 
wherever it went. Wildcats were very numerous; they would catch chick- 
ens, geese, and even young pigs. There were at first many gray foxes but 
the red ones drove them out. „ , , , i. x- • 4.» 

The Indians used to come to my father's house hunting ponies, etc. 
Thev were rogues and would steal a great deal. 'Old Shing was their 
chief and bossed all the Miamis. They would not do anything without 

'"Ihe^'battle of the Mississinewa was fought in 1812. Col. Campbell 
came from Greenville, Ohio, and went down the Mississinewa, taking two 
Indian villages and killing a few of the inhabitants. They came back to 
the Jalapa Village for the night. The next morning the Indians attacked 
them early. The whites formed a hollow square about the hill and shot in 
every direction. Many of the whites were mounted. The Indians fell 
bick defeated and left their dead on the field. The whites suffered but little 
loss—the Indian loss was greater. I do not think 'Shing' was in the fight 

i""* ^'slvlral y'S^I'^ago there was a celebration on the Battleground and I 
was asked to stake off what I thought was the real battlefield.. Later when 
those who were informed came they told me I had it exactly right. 
^''^^^wThree Indians were buried by the whites near the eastern part of the 

^^^^^u^'iJ" I,^;dians did not seem to hold resentment against the whites after 

the ^f "J?-p Conner came here before Mr. Renbarger. He had a trading 
post about thfee-fourths of a mile east of Sutton's ford, or what is now 



called the four-mile bridge. Sometimes the Indians got fierce and would 
threaten Conner; then he would pick up a keg of powder and swear he 
would blow them all to h— 1. That was enough— they would take the hint 
and put off. 

"Yes, I was in the Civil War for three years, in Company F, 34th 
Indiana Infantry, called the 'Morton Rifles.' 

"One time when the soldiers of Marion were ready to start for the 
war, a group of Southern sympathizers threw out some slang and the 
soldiers ran them right out of town. Sometimes the service was pretty 
hard. I marched once for forty-eight hours without a bite to eat, part of 
the time I was in General Grant's own regiment. One morning we were 
eating breakfast — had nothing to eat but hard-tack and raw meat — we no- 
ticed Grant was not eating, and said: 

" 'General, why don t you eat your breakfast?' 

" 'I have nothing to eat!' 

" 'Can you eat hard-tack and raw meat?' 

" 'You bet,' came the quick reply, so we shared our frugal breakfast 
and he ate heartily. 

"We had some brave generals. Logan was one of them. He'd fight 
the devil without fear." 

Mr. Hix remembers the election of Harrison, Polk, Taylor and others, 
but he first voted for Lincoln in 1860. It was a hard-fought campaign. 

His regiment fought the last battle of the war, the Rio Grande, oppo- 
site Matamoras. This was a month after Lee surrendered, but they had not 
received word yet of his surrender. 

Mr. Hix thinks the old Wayne trail came in to Grant County from the 
south, near Matthews. It came through one mile east of Monroe township 
and went northeast through Wm. Hays', Sam Bowers' and Ike Anderson's 
farms, on up Back Creek out of the county. 

Mr. Hix is a very interesting old man. 
I came here. 

"I have lived in Jalapa for fifty-five years." 

* 

SILAS MOREHEAD (91 YEARS OLD) 

Mr. Morehead was born in Fairfield County, Ohio, November 29, 1830. 
His parents moved to Grant County in 1842 and settled southeast of what 
is now Jalapa. They entered the land of the Government and settled in the 
woods. Some of their neighbors were Billy Prickett, Bob McClure, Nick 
Elsrode, Davy Conner, Reason Malott, Johnny Dunn and Edward Baldwin. 
There was no house between Morehead's and Peru. 

In a year or two Joaquin Miller's father settled a half mile west of 
them, but the family did not stay long, and moved on out West, after they 
had built a log cabin here. , ^ ,. 

Mr. Morehead's father was the third man who settled on the Indian 
Reserve, the others being Dave Mercer and a German, Mr. Sprecher (who 
was miller for Dave Conner). His father paid $1.25 per acre for eighty 
acres. The Peru road was the eastern boundary of the Miami Reserve. 

When they moved from Ohio they came in a covered wagon. Silas 
and his brother had to stop and rest. An old sow and pigs got after him, 
and he quickly found out he was not tired. The family would stop and 
cook their meals over a camp fire. , . , , , 

The early settlers ate corn bread, fat meat, pumpkin butter, hoe cakes 
and maple syrup. Their diseases were ague, chills and typhoid fever, but 
there was but little tuberculosis — ^their open-air life prevented it. 

Davy Conner was one of the first settlers in Grant County. He was 
government agent to the Indians and bought furs of them. He had a trading 
post and would sell apples to the Indians to put on the graves of their dead 
(for Indians thought the dead rose in the night and ate food). Then Con- 
ner would go out at night and take the apples off the graves and re-sell 
them to the Indians the next day. 

The Indians were peaceful with the whites but they often got drunk 
and would fight among themselves, sometimes killing each other. Thej^ 
never buried the dead very deep. One time Mr. Morehead was at the 
Lower Village below Jalapa and saw the end of a coffin or "dead box" that 



bad been wasl-ed up by tbe rains. Another man who was with Morehead 
poked a stick into the coffin and found some whiskey bottles. The Indians 
would bury whiskey, money, dogs, guns, ammun.tion, or any article they 
thought the dead would nee:!, with tr.e corpse. They wrapped their men in 
blankets and the squaws were wrapped with clcth from the waist to the feet. 

Ihe Indians would hold council around a fire then dance until they 
were worn out, sometimes for a day or two. 

"Old "Shing," tl-eir chief, was a fine old Indian, but like most of them 
le would sit around and let his squaws do most of the work. He had two 
squ.awg. Shickwsy was a wic'OW when he married her. His first wife was 
the mother of his two sons. Pecongak and Ataw-Ataw. 

_ Old "Shing" told Mr. Morehead that he was not in the Battle of Mis- 
sissinewa, his mother took him and went tT Peru. Meshingomesia said the 
v/hite soldiers killed in the battle were buried just above the mill dam on 
the Lawsnn farm. The Indians took thpir dead with them. 

They killed nearly all the horses of the white soldiers. Mr. Morehead 
said the woods were full of horses' bones. 

The Indians believed when they died they would go to the New Hunt- 
ing Ground. 

Mr. Morehead knew old "Shing," both before and after his conversion, 
and said he could not see much change. He saw "Shing" baptized by a 
white preacher. Reverend Pavey. "Shing" was so big and heavy the preach- 
er nearly let him stay under the water, and had to work to get him out. _ 

Old Waucoon was an Indian preacher who often preached at Indian 
Village. One time Mark Conner and Frank Hall became amused at his 
remarks for he could not speak English very well. After the service Wau- 
coon caught up with the boys as they went home and said: "You, Markley 
Conner, and you, Plankley Hall, think you smart, all time laugh at preacher. 
You no where when Clist (Christ) cor el" 

Old Waucoon was at one of Bob McClure's horse races. This surprised 
McClure so he said: "Waucoon, I didn't think you would be here." "Clist 
went among sinners," was the laconic reply. 

Mr. Morehead said Jalapa was laid out in 1849, the next year after 
the Mexican war. Jacob Sprecher laid it out and named it Jalapa for a 
Mexican town in which he had be^m stationed during the war. 

Mr. Morehead remembers William Henry Harrison's campaign. It 
was a great time. Men would fight at the drop of the hat, and sing cam- 
paign songs — "Tippecanoe and Tyler, too," etc. He remembers Polk, the 
Mexican war and the excitement attending that. Then slowly but inevitably 
the Civil War loomed up upon the national horizon. 

Mr. Morehead served three years in the Civil War, in Company A, 75th 
Regiment Indiana Volunteer Infantry. He was in the battle of Chicka- 
mauga under direct command of General Thomas, "The Rock of Chicka- 
mauga." At one time they were surrounded by rebels and Thomas said, 
"Come on, boys, and follow me and we'll get out." Sure enough they did 
and were able to take some rebels with them. After that this company was 
Thomas' favorite one and they in turn liked "Old Pap Thomas,' as they 
affectionally called him. ^ ^, . , ti 

Mr Morehead was severely wounded m the battle of Chickamauga. He 
was shot in the hip, the bullet passing through his body to the other hip, 
where it still remains at the advanced age of ninety-one. .^, . 

He was also shot in the arm. He lay for four days, helpless, without 
anything to eat or drink. Then the rebels came and got him and laid him 
farther on between two rows of cotton where he lay flat on his back tor 
three weeks. He could not turn on account of his wounds. He did not 
have a blanket even and the rain beat down upon him. There were other 
Union soldiers near him who were not so badly wounded as himselt, so 
thev crawled out and got corn, and that was all any of thorn hadto eat. 

A soldier lay in the next row to him, badly wounded, who cried, prayed 
and cursed until death relieved him of his misery For three d^s after 
death he was not removed and became a gruesome object in the next row to 

^'''''TWebel doctors would come along once in a while and put a wounded 
man on some old boards and cut off an arm or leg. Often the poor fellow 
would die during the operation. They cut out the bullet from Mr More- 
head's arm and gouged at the one in his hip, but were unable to get it. 



After a time all these poor wounded men were gathered up and sent: 
to Richmond. The train upon which they traveled wfcs not a Pullman! They 
were thrown off and on again at little stations according to the convenience 
of the rebels. Upon arriving at Richmond they were hurried to Libby 
prison, but Mr. Morehead was only there three days until they chose the 
worse wounded soldiers and sent them to the "Devil's Barracks," (as the 
victims called this hell-hole of the South.) 

Mr. Morehead remained here about two months, recovering in spite of 
the treatment he received. They were fed mule meat and corn bread once 
a day. "The mule must have been sickly at that," remarked Mr. Morehead. 
If a man ventured over the "dead line" he was shot without a word. 
The men died like flies in this prison house. Sometimes they would not 
be removed for hours after death. 

Once in a while new prisoners would be brought — pale, weak, emaci- 
ated — nothing but skin and bones. 

Finally Mr. Morehead was able to be exchanged. When they stepped 
over into the Union lines ocne more the Union soldiers shouted and sobbed 
with joy, but the rebels who were to be exchanged for them sneaked silently 
to their* own ranks. They didn't want to go for they knew it meant star- 
vation and hardship, while they had been well fed by the North. Mr. More- 
head said he surely did justice to the good things the Union soldiers gave 
him — beef, "light bread," coffee, butter — oh! when a fellow had been 
starved for months. 

After Mr. Morehead got able he was exchanged to Sherman's division 
and was with him on his famous "march to the sea." He was not yet very- 
strong and gave out every day as a result of his wounds at Chickamauga,. 
but they told him he need not carry a gun even if he was able, but march 
as best he could. 

As they went through South Carolina they had nothing to eat but 
"nigger peas," while in Georgia they had nothing but sweet potatoes, for 
Sherman had cut off all supplies and communications with the North. There 
was not much of the "gobbling of turkey's," spoken of in the song, or else 
their commissaries" did not do their duty. 

"War is awful. I don't want any more of it, but I'm glad I could serve 
my country for three years," said this aged man of ninety-one years in 
whom there burns yet the sacred fires of Patriotism. 

* 

CONCERNING THE INDIANS OF GRANT COUNTY 
We lived down close to the Indian Village, when I was a little girl, 
and so the sight of Indians was no novelty to me. We all knew old Mesh- 
ingemacie, the old Indian chief. Most folks called him "Old Shing." I be- 
lieve "Old Shing" was the ugliest man I ever did see. It seemed like most 
every night I went to bed I could see his awful ugly face looking at me 
through the window. 

He was very fat. I imagine he weighed about three hundred pounds. 
His face was greasy and full of wrinkles. In fact, "Old Shing" was a 
very repulsive looking sort of an Indian. 

When I had to pass "Shing's cabin I always climbed the fence on the 
other side of the road and walked past on the inside of the fence, because 
Iwas so afraid of the dogs which he kept. "Old Shing" would be sitting 
in an old rocking chair on the front porch, with his pipe in his mouth. His 
squaw and her sister would be sitting down on the step, each with her pipe. 
The yard was usually covered with an odd mixture of toddling papooses, 
larger children, tiny rolling puppies, and huge fierce dogs. 

I played with the Indian children a great deal but I hardly ever went 
to their house to play. One evening one of the Indian girls asked a number 
of us girls and boys over to her house for supper, and since she said that 
"Old Shing" and his squaw had gone to town, we decided to go. 

We had a good supper of bacon, baked potatoes, corn cakes and mo- 
lasses. We were almost through when we heard the dogs beginning to bark 
and looking out we saw that "Shing" and his squaw were coming back 
sooner that we had expected. All of the white children expected to be 
scalped right there, but "Shing" came in, gave one glance at us, and then 
out to his accustomed seat on the porch. After that I was never afraid 
of "Old Shing." 



were provisions to be carried h-m. ^^ ^°'" • 



. „, , FRA^TCTS W. MALOTT 

irancis W. Malott was horn January 30, 1839 a auarter nf « r>.n. 
Jro^n"; ht^eL-filsr-n^Jn:^ ^" ^^"^ ^^^"" '' ^ ^^ ^-' ^no^wnt^ant^ Couni? 

mile K^rin'dMi'esl^''"'"^''"'- '''^ ^" '"«" ^^^^ grandmothers'do for 
^ IJ'^J:-^^a"dfather, lieason Malott, entered the land north of Marion in 
R.Tf.-'rv, Th% '^"c^^^of-^ «f Francis had been slowly m-.vins westward from 
Baltimore for^ nearly two hundred years. When his P-randnarents can^ 
^tSn K'on MaloTt" 7' ^^"^ ^^nty it was the border' lin'eol d^^i- 
with their f3,-?' G^or^e BadscPr, Johnnv W.ll. and Robert Massey, 
7^97 .T^ Ir, T' ^«™f,do^^'" the Miesiss-:newa river on rafts in April of 
18^:7, and settled near the present Park Road 

M.]J(\V^/^^''v ^^?,/:f t^e first white child born in Grant County. Mr. 
Malott said he tnou.^ht it was an Overman girl in 1826, for his uncle Rob- 
ert w.as not born until August, 1827. 

1818 or 



dge. 



He thinks David Conner settled in Grant County as ^firly a 
r^rf .. ^ trading post just above the present Four-Mile 'briuii« 
Old Henry Renbarger fought in the Indian wars of 1811-14. Hp came 
with his company to Grant County in 1813 or '14. He bnrned the last 
wigwam on the land he afterwards entered and s^id: "When this land 
enteved"it''in''-^^ "^^""^ *^'^ ""^""^ ^'*^ '^ ^ ''''^ ^^* '^'" ^""^ ^"""^ enough he 
• ^v^^^ Malott said he did not know whether old Henry Renbar^-er was 
^"o o-^ Battle of Mississinewa or not, (we think not f^r it was fougH Dpc 
1812), but Mr. Renbarger told of a row of Indian graves one hundred o"r 



one hundred and fifty yards long which lay just at the east end of Conner's 

Mill dam, (or Barley's mill, as it was aft-rwarc " 

"have been wasahed out by the floods of the Mis-issmewa 



hese graves 

Malott's father often made the trip from " Marion t"o Lafayette in an 
•old pirogue, or French boat, cut out of a poplar loe. H^ carried me-^t 
skins and Indian trumpery. When he got to the "Broad riffle" above Peru 
the Indians would help him over the rapids. 

Old Sammy McClure started with about five dollars worth of needles 
pins, beads and trinkets. With that as a start he accumulated quite a nice 
little fortune. 

Mr. Malott remembers the construction of the first bridge in Grant 
County. It was the Washington street bridge, and the floov was not v 't 
in when the great New Year's "freshet" of 1847 washed it away This 
was a bigger flood than that of e'ther 1882 or 1913. It drove his orand- 
father from his home (near the stone quarry) at on° o'clock in the '^morn- 
mg. The water reached to Meridian street. North Marion. A baby was 
rescued in a cradle as it floated down the river to Somerset. The little 
thing was unharmed and they finally located its parents, who lived at 
Deerfield, Randolph County. 

The first campaign Mr. Malott recalls was that of William Henry Har- 
rison, 1844- It was a "hot" campaign. His father and Jacob Ryder were 
building a mill dam down by Somerset while the campaiagn was on. They 
were both Democrats. Little Francis remembers a Whig on the opposite 
side of the river calling to them: "I can lick any d — d Democrat you'll 
bring to me!" 

Mr. Malott also remembers the agitation concerning the Mexican war. 



His father belonp'ed to the militia or "Home Guards." and wore a uniform 
ot blue with erold" buttons, and a high cap (Scotch form). This looked 
imposing to little Francis. 

„. .,^^- Malott has an interesting story of his own life as a soldier in the 
Civil War, but had not time to tell us. When asked if he knew anythin"- of 
the underground railroad" he said quickly, "a little!" 

He knew old Chief Meshingomesia quite well. "Old Shing's son Pe- 
conga, was "six-foot-four" and a powerful frame. Mr. Malott ""worked for 
Peconga several months; Mrs. Peconga was a good cook. 

One day Henry (old) Renbarger and Malott went home with Peconga 
for Sunday dinner. Boriat, the French-Indian pre'^cher, was there also, 
and told the story of his conversion: "I was once bad injun. Get drunk, 
maybe kill white man. One day in corn field got religion — happy, happy. 
Now GOOD Iniun!" 

Louife Winters, old Shing's adopted daughter, went to a On^kpr 
school which was located just north of the M^ssis'^inewa school building. 
She boarded at Sam McClure's. She got a fairly good education but went 
back to Shing's home whsre they talked in Indian dialet only, so she gradu- 
ally drifted back to Indan ways again. 

Francis Malott's father has seen the Indians raise the tomahawk over 
his mother's head to scare her into giving them the last bit of meat she 
had in the cabin. Her husband had to go sixty milps to RinrlolriVi Cinntv 
for his grist of meal and she and the children would stay in the lonely 
cabin alone. They always left the "latch string out," for an Indian would 
become very angry to find it otherwise, but they put an iron bar across 
the door inside to keep the Indians out. 

In those days they bnilt a close pen right up against the cabin for pigs 
or fowls to keep the Indians from stealing them or to prevent the wolves 
from catching them. 

"Amufements? Yes, we had them back in those early days," said Mr. 
Malott. "Father, the Badger boys, Enos Massey and others would set 
traps to catch wolves. One Sunday morning they csiip'ht o^e so they de- 
cided to have some fun with a neighbor, who boasted his wolf dog was the 
best in the community. The men called across the river to this neighbor, 
telling him they had a wolf and for him to bring his famous dog across and 
spend the day. Then the men took a fori^-ed stick and thrust it over the 
wolf's neck so they could muzzle it. One fellow tried to put the muzzle on 
but put his hand in the wolf's mouth instead. Someone else succeeded in 
muzzling it, then they tied both pairs of legs and ran a pole between its 
fore and hind legs to carry it to the rorrall. They then r^t it« hump-striuf^s 
so it could not get away. By that time the neighbor and his wolf-dog had 
arrived and they turned the dog into the pen with the 'wor=tofi' wolf, b^t 
the wolf proved too much for the dog. Then the men nut a little 'measley' 
bench-legged fiste in and it worried the wolf down. This little episode took 
the boast out of the wolf-dog's master." 

Mr. Malott said his mother got a cook stove of a peddler when he was 
about five years old. She paid forty or fifty dollars for it. He then told 
how the old pioneer mothers used to bake "light" bread or biscuits by a "re- 
flector." The pan of bread was placed on a hot he'^rth, then a tin plate 
was so placed as to reflect heat upon it until the bread was nicely browned 
and done. 

Mr. Malott mari-ied a Bohemian girl in 1869. She came from the 
"oold country" when only five years of age, so she can remember but little 
about it. She was left an orphan at six years of age so she had to work 
hard for a living. 

These old pioneers are interesting to talk to and received us very 
cordially. — Alvin Allen, Cora Straughan. 
s^ 

BENTON WHITE 

Mr. Benton White, age 71, of Pleasant Township, said he was at the 
burial of Meshingomesia. He died, apparently, of old age, for he was not 
sick long. They hauled him from his log home to the Indian church, about 
a fourth of a mile away, in a spring wagon. He was buried in a dark robe, 
or suit, like the whites used for burial purposes. The whites filled in the 
grave. The day was very cold and people shivered when he was buried. 



ANN STELTS-LAWSON 

Ann Stelts was born in Pleasant township, Grant County, in 1854. 
"She was married to Nathan E. Lawson when seventeen years of ag'e. 

Top-ether they built their "little cabin in the clearing." They daubed 
it with clay and built the chimney with sticks. Their's was a tynical pioneer 
home. Her hrshand havin.s: died a few ye^rs a^o she now lives alone, her 
"home being situated in the midst of the'Mi<^sissinewa battlefield. 

Her whole life has therefore been spent n^ar the Indian Village and 
s^e is nrobably better informed concerning the habits and customs of the 
Miami Indians than any living individual. 

She remembers old Meshingomesia ouite well. He was a nice old man, 
having been a faithful attendart at the old Indian church at Indian Village. 
M-^nv t^'^'^s ^^e "^ps seen hin^ ^e^r> the prore^^sion entering the church, 
followed by his two souaws. then Peconga and snuaw. Skier and snnaw, 
Marshall and squaw, Charles Winters and squaw, then last came old "Molly" 
and old "Blinkey." The squaws always wore red or yellow handkerchiefs 
over their heads. If any one was occupying the Indian pew he would have 
to vacate on the Indians' arrival. 

Old Wau Coon was their preacher, and he would -preeah vigorously. 
"Oh-Oh-Oh," he would say. "my Bible tells me that if you are not good 
you will go way UP to Hell!" 

Mrs. Lawson has "laid out," or prepared for burial, most of the squaws 
of that neighborhood, and her husJaand has prepared the corpses of the 
Indian men. 

One time Mrs. Lawson was at L^cy Dole's, pn Indian woman's "wake." 
About midnight Mrs. Lawson was sitting near the corpse, close to a win- 
dow. There was a sheet at the window which t>'e wind blew and she thought 
it was Lucy coming to life. Needless to say, she was frightened. 

The Indians would "stuff" snakes, frogs, lit+le ground puppies, lizards, 
deer, and all kinds of animals, and kept t>^em in a little log h^t one-half 
rnile from the old Indiana church, then when they had a dance, "adoption," 
or any festivity, they would bring these out and dance about them. 

the Indians believed in witches also. If one of the tribe got sick the 
other Indians would burn the thing that they thought bewitched him. This 
was generally a feather, or bunch of feathers, which they would burn under 
the sick one's bed. They thought the witch would then leave. 

One time an old Indian couple. Mr. and Mr?. Marshall, had a bottle of 
whisVey on the mantle in their cabin. They b-th got drunk an.d Mrs. 
Marshall fell into the fire and burned her side until her intestines protruded. 
She died a miserable death. When she was b'^^iod. they nlaced the coffin 
on a mud-boat and on the same "vehicle" was Mr. Marshall, "hog" drunk. 
She was buried at the Indian cemetery. 

The little ridge upon which Mrs. Lawson's pre^'ent home is situated 
was used in the battle of Mississinewa as a bre?st works for the Indians, 
over which they fired at the whites. The whites took cover in an underbrush 
east of her house. In her garden there are tbree g^-aves of Indians who 
Avere buried just after the battle. Every summer the wild sun-flowers 
grow over the'^e graves, although the ground has been cultivated for years 
and years. The whites who were killed in the battle were taken to the 
nearest graveyards and buried. The Indians were buried just about where 
they fell. 

Chief Meshingomesia told the whites if they would "go in" with the 
Indians he would grant them enough land for a cemetery and church. The 
deed was a verbal one, as he could not read or write. He said: "This shall 
belong to the Baptists so long as water flows and grass grows." And it 
<loes remain in the Baptists' care to this day. 

Old "Shing" gave Mrs. Lawson's husband his picture, a favor granted 
to very few white men. 

Mrs. Lawson says life is worth living even though she has seen some of 
the hard side of life. 

*— ■ 

LYDIA FPAZIER-SFP.GAP'S STORY OF INDIANS 
(Gr^nd-dfluphter of Mrrtin Boots') 
Lydia Frazier was born in 1844 on what is now known as the Mattor 



farm, west of Matter Park. Her father settled there in 1831, purchasing 
the land from the Indians. 

The first she remembers of the In^'^rns ws when th^^v "^e'"' to co'^^e 
to her father's home to buy apples. They rode on horseback, sinojle file, 
wearing pink calico shirts with ruffles on collar, cuffs and front, a blanket 
lapped around their burly bodies. Somtimes they were nainted with poke- 
berries and herbs of different kinds, and sometimes tattooed in fantastic 
designs. They went bare-footed and had rings in their ears and sometimes 
in their nose. 

The squaws did all the work, as the braves were supposed to hunt. The 
squaws raised small patches of corn and pumpkins. The latter they would 
slice in round rings, hang them on sticl-s and di-y them. 

They had a village where the Mississinewa curves in what is now 
Matter Park. They loved nature and tried to copy and follow, everything 
as nature had it. They traveled from place to place a great deal, but had 
fixed homes. They were "civilized," but once In a while would go on a 
"rampage" among themselves. 

They were very generous to friends, and had remarkable memories. 
If any one did them a kindness it was never forgotten and they did all 
in their power to return the favor. They were silent when the "whites" 
were around and conversed with each other by signs. 

They prided t^^emselves on doing as much "fancy" work as the whites. 
Their bead work was very beautiful. 

Mr?. Seegar thinks it a great injustice the way the whites treated 
the Indians. They cheated them in many ways because the Indians were 
ignorant, and pushed them westward when the white man wanted their 
land. 

It was Indian nature to be cruel and endure much without making a 
sign. The more they endured silently the more respect they received from 
their race. 

V/hen the pappooses were a day or two old they were tied or strapped 
on boards and fastened to the mother's back. In summer they were stood 
up against a tree or wigwam. The babies seemed to enjoy it. This is the 
reason they grew so tall, straight and strong. They were kept strapped 
on these boards until they were old enough to walk. 

The Indians were converted and tried to live like Christians. They 
built a little log church at first, but later erected the frame church across 
the river from Jalapa. /This w?s a Par>t'st chur">^. b^^t tp" ^-prmo-np w^re 
preached in the Indian language, so all could understand. When an Indian 
died he was buried in the cemetery back of this church, and a monument 
placed at the head of the grave. The Indians prided themselves on placing 
a tombstone equal to the whites at the head of each grave. 

Thy were often buried in a sitting posture and their treasures or 
weapons of warfare were buried with them. The wealthy Indians would 
put their favorite horse or dog in the grave with the dead. 

The Indians built their canoes of birch bark. Thev were very light 
and were manned with great dexterity by the braves. Mrs. Seegar said 
she always was afraid to get into these light canoe-^,^ they looked so frail. 

As a little girl she was terribly afraid of the Indians, for she was 
taught if she didn't obey, "Old Shing," the Indian chief, would get her. 
She remembers when a white child was stolen by the Indians. This child is 
still living — Mrs. Louise Winters^ — but she took the ways of the Indians 
among whom she was raised. - • . 

The first cabin Mrs. Seegar remem.bers had no windows, nothing b'^t 
the crack in the logs. It had a great fireplace across one side by which 
they lived and cooked. "Those days did not seem so cold as now. We are 
used to luxuries so we could not go back to thoso old days," she said. 

The Indians were paid so much a year by the government. Sam Mc- 
Clure acted as their banker. 

"But the day of the Red Man is past." 

— Type by C. Stanley. 

* 

THE INDIANS OF PLEASANT TOWNSHIP, GRANT COUNTY 

Many years before the white man came to the continent of America, 



the red men lived and ruled the land. Some historians believe that the 
red man came from Asia, across the Behring Strait, but the red men believe 
that they originated from some of the lower types of animals. 

When Columbus discovered the New World and the red men, he called 
them Indians. The red men, or Indians, divided into many different trib«s. 
They were called Indians ever after Columbus discovered them. 

When the white men came to America to settle, they drove the Indians 
back into the wilderness and took the land that the Indians thought was 
his property. Therefore the Indians resisted. One of the tribes that re- 
sisted the white man was the Miami Indians. The history which follows 
v/ill be about that tribe from the eighteenth century up to the present date. 

The Miami Indians were not known in history much before the nine- 
teenth century. The lived along the Wabash and White rivers, and up 
through the northern part of the Indiana Territory. They had about the 
same religion that most other Indians had. They believed in the Great 
Spirit and the Happy Hunting Grounds after death. They believed that 
they originated from some of the lower types of animals, or bones of the 
animal. The Miami tribe believed that they originated from the turkey, 
therefore they carved a turkey foot in a large rock. This rock was in 
diameter about twelve feet and stood out of the ground about four feet. 
It was found on the land now owned by Robert Spencer, of Marion, Indiana. 
In 1916 this rock still existed, but some of Mr. Spencer's workmen were 
blowing up the rocks in the same field and thoughtlessly placed some 
powder under it and blew it to pieces. 

From the year 1810 to 1812 the Miami Indians were friendly to the 
white settlers, but in 1812 the British supplied the Indians with guns and 
knives and offered them rewards for the settlers' scalps. Little Turtle and 
Tecumseh were two ambitious warriors, who led the Miami Indians to 
battle. The one-eyed prophet was their adviser. The chiefs and the proph- 
et agreed upon attacking the fort at Fort Wayne. Gov. Harrison received 
a message for help from the besieged fort. Harrison thought that the 
Indians would fight until winter then quit, but the Indians that were in the 
district which is now Pleasant township, Grant county, and Liberty town- 
ship, Wabash county, supplied the Indians with food. Gov. Harrison then 
sent to Ohio for help. One part of the help received he sent to Fort 
Wayne, and the other, under Gen. John B. Campbell, to destroy the Indians 
and their villages that were feeding the Indians that were besieging Fort 
Wayne. 

Gen. John B. Campbell found the Indians on the east side of the Mis- 
sissinewa river, near where the little village of Jalapa now stands. Decem- 
ber 17th, 1812, in the morning. 

A few of the Indians attacked them there but the soldiers repelled 
them. Early the next morning at dawn the Indians again attacked the 
soldiers who were camped on the second river bottom. Over a hundred of 
the cavalry horses were killed and many of the men killed and wounded. 
The soldiers gradually drove the Indians back. Some of the Indians were 
driven over the bluffs of the river banks into the water. The others were 
followed to their villages. When the soldiers reached the villages the 
Indians had fled. The soldiers marched farther north and found two 
more villages which they destroyed. The village at the mouth of the Me- 
to-sin-ia creek was the largest village. At this village the soldiers found 
an old crippled Indian squaw whom they left in her hut, but they destroyed 
the other huts in the village. 

The soldiers and officers thought the chief that led the Indians to 
battle was Little Thunder, the son of Little Turtle. It was told later by 
the Indians that Me-shin-go-me-sia, then a small child, was in one of the 
villages when the attack was made, but was led away with many other 
children by a squaw. 

After destroying the villages and capturing about forty prisoners, 
the soldiers went back to camp. They found many of their comrades 
killed and wounded. Gen. John B. Campbell ordered the dead soldiers to 
be buried. The soldiers placed their dead comrades under the sod at one 
corner of the camp and there they lie to this day without a stone, tree or 
stake to tell where they sleep or to honor them. It is stated in the Grant 
County History that there is a certain man that has a map of the camp 
showing the place where the soldiers are buried. We hope that the future 



history of Grant county will have a str.tement^in it stating that there has 
h^en erecteu a large xnunument in hon^r oi tn^se men. 

'ihe Indians weie ae^eatea anci sett.ea ci^wn on their reserved land. 
McClure, the fur trader, knew the ways of the Indians quite well and 
le.pea to civilize the Indians of Pleasant township. After the town of 
lu.a'xon began to grow ti e inaians began to pattern after the white men 
i-i making homes, 'iliey built the "hog-pen" style of log house for the com- 
niou warriors, and the hewed log houte for the chief and his relation. A 
lew 01 the Inaians being aiscontentea, went west; others mixed with the 
1 e.ghboriii^ triLes. 

The Indians went to Marion by a trail which ran down past the battle 
ground, then in a northeastern direction, past a large pond known as the 
''oohn Dunn Pond," then over to the Wabash pike at the hill just north 
t. e loi.r Mile Erio:ge. 1 ey r ■^..■ vp narked their horses iji T.Ir. Mc- 
Ciure's barn-yard when they went to town. 

The in..icns uteu ti. b tr^x. ci/tu ... superstition arose amoiig them 
Ruovt the pond. It appears that an Indian bravely stole some gold or 
silver, and while he was carrying it home he was drowned in the pond. The 
o... Indian preacher told them that the GREAT SPIRIT, or the new God, 
tl e white man's God, had seen this Indian steal the money and had made 
h::.i to walk out upon the pond and drown. Therefore, the Indians shun- 
ned the pond. It is stated later by a white man that the Indian was drunk. 

Me-shin-go-n:e-sia was made chief at the death of the old chief. He 
became a Christian and tried to make his people quit stealing and drinking, 
Ee and a few other Indians built a church, so the Indian became more 
friendly with the white peoeple; but some were discontented with the prog- 
ress ol civilization and went west, leavirg only a few here. 

Their land was to be divided up equally among the Indians, squaws 
as well as braves. They wanted deeds to this land so they could do with 
it as they wished. Finally they succeeded in getting McClure, of Marion^ 
to represent them and their wants at Washington. 

When McClure came back the Indian had the same right to vote as 
the white man had, so the Indians of Pleasant township were made citizens 
of the United States of America. The land was divided among them, each 
receiving eighty acres of land. Then the grafter began his work. He 
bought the land from the Indians at the price of a song. He got the 
Indian in debt to him so that he could get a hold upon his land. Gradually 
the Indian lost out until now but a few own their own land. 

The Miami Indians love music. Many of them have very excellent 
pianos and other musical instruments. The quickly become civilized and 
make good students in school. The better class make good neighbors. Me- 
shin-go-me-sia belonged to the better class, yet he was very suspicious of 
the white man. Julia A. Headrick says that he was a fine old Indian man. 
One time she borrowed a copper kettle of him and gave him some apple 
butter in return. The apple butter pleased the chief so he said, "You can 
have the old kettle any time you want it, if you bring me apple butter as 
good as that every time." Miss Headrick said that the chief was not up to 
date with his manners for he got a large spoon and began to eat the apple 
butter, making all kinds of noise, trying to show her how he liked it. She 
informed him that it was to be eaten with bread. Miss Headrick's story is 
no doubt true for she came to that section of Pleasant township with her 
father in early days. 

Joaquin Miller, the poet, lived near the site of Jalapa. His father 
had some sheep killed. Me-shin-go-me-sia went to Mr. Miller and paid 
him for the sheep, and said he thought it was the Indians' dogs that killed 
the sheep, but Mr. Miller thought the timber wolves killed them. The 
chief was very kind to his Indians and the white neighbors. 

He came to think that he should have a fine house just like the better 
houses in Marion, so he had a large brick house built. All the surviving 
Indians have his picture hanging on the walls of their homes. He lies 
in the Indians' sacred buryine ground, behind the Second Baptist church, 
two and one-half miles west of Fox Station. 

The Indians of today want to forget the past. They do not want to 
talk about their ancestors nor about the Indian Wars. When asked about 
such questions they say they know very little about the Indian history. 



Of the vast amount of land that the Indians one time owned in Pleas- 
ant township, they have left* only one hundred acres which is owned by 
three out of the many families. The rest are working for their bread by 
daily or monthly wages. 

The Indian of today has changed his mind about the Squaw. He used 
to think that she should do all the work and himself do the resting, except 
when hunting or fishing. Today the Indian has more tendency to work, 
but he has not the will power to push ahead to success. The Indian women 
seem more progressive for many of them have graduated from the High 
Schools of the country and are teaching now. They have just as good 
manners and habits as the white girls. The Indian braves are also just as 
patriotic as the white boys of America today. 

— By Ira C. Wysong, Marion High School. 



TOLD BY HIMSELF 



James S. Renbarger was born November 24, 1838, in Grant county, 
near Barley Mill, down the Mississinewa about four miles from Marion. 

His father, Edward Renbarger, came to Grant county about 1821. 
He came from Randolph county in a flat-boat on the Mississinewa River. 

When a little child James would often walk to Marion. He also 
walked foor miles to school right through the woods. The school house was 
an old blacksmith shop with a great fire place in one side that would hold 
a "back log" six feet long and required tv/o men to roll it. The chimney 
was made of sticks and "cats" — daubs of mud and straw. 

There were no newspapers in those days. The "news" was carried 
from neighbor to neighbor as they would chance to meet. 

There were no churches, but services were "held around" in the homes 
of the pioneers. The preachers were "circuit riders" and belonged to the 
Methodist, Campbellite, Christian, Dunkard or Presbyterian faith. 

In case of death the corpse was carried to the grave-yard in a -big 
wagon, the casket covered with a white sheet. The friends would often ride 
in the same wagon. Where there was a corpse in the house the mirrors 
were covered over so no one could see the dead person in the "looking- 
glass," for that would have been bad luck. A cabinet-maker made the 
casket of walnut and varnished it. The corpse was measured, then the 
casket made to fit. 
reached over and got a hunk of corn cake and a piece of bacon and went 

Teachers were strict in those days. They used the rod frequently — 
often there would be a half dozen "seasoned"- switches standing in the 
corner ready for use. 

Mr. Renbarger said that David Conner was one of the oldest settlers 
in the county. He had a "trading post" with the Indians, and sold them 
calico, trinkets, or anything they wanted, especially "spirits," of which 
they v/ere very fond. For these things Mr. Conner took furs and trinkets 
in return. 

The Indians would build a fire and dance or "pow-wow" about it. 
Then they would drink liquor, or "spirits," too fi'eely. A fight would ensue 
?nd they would kill each other unhesitatingly. Mr. Renbarger said his 
father would take care of these dead Indians, or their friends would bury 
them in a field or wood near by. They always buried their dead with the 
head to the East, so when they went to the Happy Hunting Ground they 
would go by day, and hunt as they went. In order to do this their favorite 
dog was buried with them and a plate of food was also placed in the grave 
that they might have food on the trip. Their horse was also killed and 
placed on the top of the grave so they could ride if they chose. Mr. Ren- 
biU'ger says his father has buried as many as twelve Indians in one day 
after one of these drunken debauches. 

He has talked to Meshingomesia many times about the Indian battle 
of the Mississinewa. The old chief was not so very brave and stayed back 
with the squaws during the battle. 

The Indians never bothered the whites in Mr. Renbarger's day, but 
they would kill each other without much thought about it. Meshingomesia 
had two sons, Pcconga and Awatawataw. 



Mr. Renbarger married Miss Amelia M. Baird sixty-four years a?o, 
March 7, 1857. They are the oldest married couple belonging to the Octo- 
genarian Club of the county. 

Mr. Renbar'^'er's aunt. Martha Renbarger, was the first white child 
born in the county of Grant. 



MESHINGOMESIA 

No record has been kept, but it is believed that Meshingomesia was 
born about 1781 or '82 near the mouth of Metocinyah creek in Wabash 
County. He lived here until he was nearly grown. 

In 1815 he married Tackaquah, the daughter of a Miami Indian, 
Soanahkekah. 

When Meshingomesia's father, Metocinyah, died he became chief of 
the Miamis. He dressed like the white men but spoke the Indian dialect. 
He and his tribe belonged to the Baptist church. 

He would bring his tribe to th'e village of Marion once or twice a year 
to trade. They traded mostly with Samuel McClure, for he was the only 
person who was well acquainted with their customs and language. They 
always came by the way of the trail along the river then cut diagonally 
across what is now the court house yard and on to McClure's store, which 
was located about where tl e C. H. Overman drug store now stands. 

Following is Meshingomesia's family tree: 

1. Osandiah, great-grandfather of Meshingomesia. 

2. Ataw-Ataw, grandfather of Meshingomesia. 

3. Metocinyah, father of Meshingomesia. 

4. Meshingomesia had two sons: 

(a) Pokung-gah. 

(b) Ataw-Ataw. 

5. Pokung-gah was the father of six children: 

(a) William. 

(b) Robert. 

(c) Mary. 

(d) Jacob. 

(e) Thomas. 

(f) John. 

6. Ataw-Ataw was father of five children: 

(a) Nelson. 

(b) Anna. 

(c) Ellen. 

(d) Lucy. 

(e) John. 

Meshingomesia died Dec. 16, 1879, aged about ninety-eight years. He 
[■:■ buried in the cemetery at Indian Village, where most of his family are 
now buried. 

* 

INDIAN CEMETERY 
At Indian Village, 2^2 miles west of Fox Station. 
1. Rosie A., daughter of N. and M. Tawa-Tawa, died Oct. 10, 1887; 
aged 14 yr., 3 mo., 6 days. 

2 Ellen Tawa-Taaw, died Jan. 18, 1891; aged 23 yr., 11 mo., 15 da. 

3 Melvina Taawa-Taw, died Feb. 27, 1894; aged 55 years. 

4 Frances Tawa-Taw, died May 25, 1891; aged 25 yr., 10 mo., 20 d. 
5. Camillus Aw-taw-waw-taw, died Nov. 13, 1895; aged 24 years, 

4 months, 18 days. ,. , t i o. -.an a 

6 Ta-ke-e-quah, wife of Aw-taw-waw-taw, died July Al, l6/4. 

1 Infant daughter of J. and E. Walters, born dead Jan. 10, 1888. 

8* Mary wife of George D. Chapendoceah, died Oct. 1879; age 24 yr. 

9*. Charles, son of G. D. and M. Chapendoceah, died July 2b, 1879; 
aged 9 months and 3 days. ,. i . -i -.-7 107? 

10. Sarah, wife of George D. Shapadosia, died April 17 1;>J5. 

11. Elizabeth, daughter of G. D. Shapadosia, died Sept. 16, 187Z; 
aged 5 ye^i^s. ^ ^.^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ aged 16 years. 

13. Peter, son of G. and B. Shapandusia, died March 15, 1866; aged 



L years. 

14. Angeline Chapindagie, died 1867; age unknown, \ 

15. Mary J., wife of F. H. Aveline, died Nov. 3, 1882; aged 23 yr. i 

16. Infant daughter of R. and R. Peconga, died March 11, 1876. i 

17. Sarah Winters, died Sept., 1870; aged 70 years. 

18. Lucy Doles, born 1858, died 1898. 

19. George Doles, born 1857, died ? 

20. Aw-taw-was-taw, died Dec. 26, 1879; aged 62 years. 

21. Nelson Tawa-Taw, died Dec. 9, 1879; aged 35 yr. and 6 mo. j 

22. Ellen Tawa-Taw, died July 19, 1879; aged 23 years. 'I 

23. Ta-ke-e-quah, wife of Me-shing-o-me-sia, died Sept. 15, 1879; age ! 
about 94 years. j 

24. Me-shing-o-me-sia, died Dec. 16, 1879; aged about 98 years. 

25. C. Peconga, died Sept. 16, 1879; aged "64 years. j 

26. Ka-ge-to-no-quah, died June 29, 1881; aged 68 years. j 

27. M. E. Prickett, died July, 1880; age, (?). I 

28. Lucinda, age 2 mo. and Jerome, age 8 mo., infant children of ! 
J. M. and Hannah Prickett. | 

29. Jane Marshall, died Dec. 30, 1880; age 50 years. i 

30. Mollie, died June 23, 1884; age about 85 years. | 

31. Jacob Cotsipon, died Aug. 9, 1883; aged 31 yr., 4 mo., 20 da. 

32. Coon Bundy, died Oct. 3, 1868; aged 31 years. | 

33. John Newman, born 1845, died ? I 

34. Jane, wife of John Newman, born 1837, died 1911. 

35. Elizabeth Margaret, daughter of L. and G. Winters, died July . 
3, 1873; age 3 years. { 

36. Mary, daughter of C. and J. Bundy, died May 19, 1881; age 19 yr. | 
31. Martha J., daughter of John and Jane Newman, born March : 

8, 1873, died Nov. 3, 1887. ^ . _. 

Dec. 27, 1877; age 4 mo. and 26 da. Children of Joseph and Louiza Winters. 

38. Amanda Catherine, died May 10, 1865; aged 5 mo. Joseph, died ! 

39. Lizzie, wife of Peter Peconga, died April 14, 1883; age 19 years. J 

40. Infant child of Peter and Lizzie Peconga, died April 14, 1883. } 

41. Infant son of R. and R. Peconga, died Nov. 8, 1880; aged 11 days. 

42. Ada Kisman — No date. 

* 



Old Cemsteries of Grant County 

A request was made that we make a record of dates 
on old tombstones in Grant County. The following list 
is not complete for every old cemetery was not visited. 
Those persons who were born after 1840 were not re- 
corded. 



In An Old Cemetery 

Cora M. Straughan 

Here lies the dead. 

To secluded country places 

The 'ittle cortege wound its solemn way, 

And left there the beloved form 

Within the heart of mother earth, 

While " Dust to dust, and earth to earth, " was chanted. 

And none was left to watch the lonely Mound 

Save birds and flowers and sleepless stars of heaven. 

And springtime gave its covering of green 

And winter, grim and cold, its shroud of white. 

Then season follov\ ed season, and the mound 

Sank deep into the h tllo'v of the hill 

And other mounds were added one by one 

Till all that generation slept its peaceful sleep 

Within the quiet city of the dead. 

Here lies the dead 

To-day we stand with heads uncoverd, 

And feel their sacred presence, 

While we read the simple epitaph 

On crumbling slab of marble. 

O, birds and flowers and sleepless stars of heaven 

Well have you kept your vigil. 

For we know that they are safe from harm. 

And rest in perfect Peace 

In this calm city of the dead. 



CONNER GRAVEYARD 
One and one-half miles north of Matter Park. 

This little graveyaid is situated on a hill upon the old David Conner 
farm. It is surrounded by a stone wall about three feet high and the ferns 
and shrubs that grow within it showw the care that someone has taken of it. 
The old, old slab that was the first marker of David Conner's grave is well 
nigh destroyed and has been replaced by a modern monument that modestly 
marks the last resting place of Grart County's first settler: 

1. David Conner, Aug. 9, 1771 — Aug. 9, 1844. 

2. Jeptha Conner, Sept. 20, 1826 — Aug. 6, 1800. 

3. Margaret E., wife of T. Conner, Msrch 18, 1829 — June 16, 1899. 

4. David, son of J. and M. Conner, Nov. 18, 1848 — Nov. 19, 1848. 

RENBARGER CEMETERY 
Three miles norfh of Msricn (Lagro roacJ) and ahout one-half mile west. 

This is a small family graveyard, located in a field which once belonged 
to old Henry Renbarger. He was one of the first settlers in Grant County. 
There is a stone wall about four feet high which encloses this small 
cementery. 

1. Henry Renbarger, (1793) ; died Sept. 25,1872, age 79 yr., 4 mo., 
26 days. 

2. Elizabeth Renbarger, wife of Henry Renbarger, died July 12, 
1837; age 43 yr.. 7 mo. 

3. Margaret, daughter of Henry and Elizabeth Renbarger; died Jan. 
10, 1830; age 6 yr., 9 mo. 

4. Susannah, wife of Henry Renbarger, (1814), died March 20, 
1862; age 48 yr., 3 mo., 7 da. 

5. Nancy C, daughter of Henry and Susannah Renbarger, died Dec. 
12, 1859; age 5 yr., 2 mo., 12 days. 

6. David Hamaker, son of J. and E. Hamaker, died May 12, 1844; 
age 20 yr., 2 mo., 26 da. 

■ * 

CEMETERIES 

THE McCORMICK CEMETERY 
Four f>nd one-half miles southeast of Jcnesboro, on Muncie-Jonesboro Pike. 
This is a very old cemetery back in a wood. When old Robert Mc- 
Cormick came there, nearly eighty years ago_, he found an Indian camp on 
this hill with one Indian buried there. This is one of the oldest cemeteries 
in Grant County. 

1. Robert McCormick, born in Pennsylvania July 5, 1779; died Aug. 
9, 1836. Age, 57 years, 1 month, 9 days. 

2. Ann McCormick, born Sept. 6, 1787; died Jan. 23, 1880. Age, 

92 years, 4 months, 17 days. (She married a Mr. Fankboner after the death 
of Robert McCormick). 

3. Samuel Todd, born Nov. 5, 1779; died July 28, 1863. Age, 83 
years, 8 months, 23 days. 

4. Tamson, wife of Samuel Todd, died April 26, 1852; age 68 years, 
9 months, 19 days. _ ^^^^ , 

5. Joseph Estle, born Oct. 20, 1777; died Oct. 1, 1853. Age 75 years, 

™""6. ^'Elizabeth Estle, born Jan. 22, 1764; died Oct. 11, 1857. Age, 

93 years, 9 months, 19 days. 

7 Abraham Carpenter, died May 26, 1870. Age, 64 yrs., 5 mo, 15 da. 

8* Mary Ann Carpenter, died Sept. 29, 1882. Age 81 yr., 5 mo., 7 da. 

9 Wm Payne, died Sept. 10, 1875; age 70 yr., 8 mo., 1 da. 

lo' Morgan L. Payne, died June 13, 1855; age 26 yr., 7 mo., 15 da. 

ll! Charles Wright, died Feb. 27, 1863; age 63 yr 

12 Davis Weesner, died July 22, 1849; age 34 yr., 5 mo., 24 da. 

is! John Heavilin, died Nov. 15, 1876; age 71 yr 9 mo., 11 da. 

14 Bethsheba Heavilin, died Dec. 9, 1855; age 63 yr., 3 mo., 6 da. 

15! Albert, son of J. and B. Heavilin; died Sept. 22, 1852; age 19 yr., 

1 mo.,^3 d^a^^^^.^^ ^^^ ^^ j_ ^^^ B. Heavilin, died Sept. 28, 1848; age 

^^ ""l?^ Nancy! w?fe of Loammi Rigdon, died Sept. 11, 1839; age 23 yr. 
18.' John Alexander Rigdon, died Oct. 17, 1838; age 3 yr., 2 mo..8 da. 



19. Pclly, daughter of J. H. and S. B. Clark, died Sept. 7, 1838; age 
20 yr., 12 tu.. 

20. ^rsi;la, daughter of J. H. and S. B. Clark, died June 14, 1838; 
age 15 yr., 1 mo., 1 da. 

21. Phebe, wiie of Henry Simons, died Feb. 3, 1852; age 31 yr., 4 
mo., 19 da. 

2Z. Anthony Seiter, died Sept. 11, 1849; age 43 yr., 2 da. 

23. E. W. Lynch, born lh2'<, died liiOO. 

24. Mary Lynch, wife of E. W. Lynch, born 1833, died 1898. 

25. Eliza Lucas, born 1831, died 1907. 

26. Basil Lucas, died May 6, 1866; age 59 yr., 8 da. 

27. Sarah, wife of Basil Lucas, died Aug. 19, 1870; age 61 yr., 7 
mo., 12 da. 

28. Nancy, wife of Lemuel Sexton, died July 31, 1863; age 27 yr., 
6 mo., 28 da. 

-* 

DUNN CEMETERY 

Three and one-half miles northwest of Marion, one-fourth mile west of 

Wabash Pike. 

1. Mary E. Darby, wife of S. G. Darby, 1782; died Aug. 6, 1811. 

2. Elizabeth Wood Porter, Sept. 7, 1792; died Aug. 24, 1874. 

3. Seleigh Baldwin, 1782; died March 18, 1863. 

4. Susannah, wife of Edward Baldwin, July 19, 1792. 

5. Eliza Ann Props, 1821; died Oct. 9, 1846. 

6. Joseph Gravies, Sept. 16, 1777; died Sept. 2, 1839. 

7. John Stephen, 1802; died March 2, 1856. 

8. Margaret L., wife of Rev. J. L. Miller, 1832; died Dec. 23, 1866. 

9. William Massey, 1799; died Sept. 15, 1862. 

10. Bethean, wife of Wm. Massey, 1801; died Sept. 10, 1873. 

11. Daniel J. Stephens, 1829; died Jan. 9, 1851. 

12. Wesley, husband of Sharake Pugh, 1834; died Dec. 3, 1862. 

13. Ezra Porter, born April 2, 1790; died Nov. 27, 1874. 

14. Mary, wife of Andrew Bayley, 1802; died Aug. 25, 1851. 

15. Elizabeth, wife of Christian Miller, 1794; died Sept. 14, 1859. 

16. Anna Moss, 1820; died July 4, 1854. 



yr 



BACK CREEK 
Two miles north of Fairmount, on F^lrmount Pike. 

1. William Hollingsworth, 1811; died Aug. 30, 1888, age 77 yr., 
2 mo., 5 da. 

2. Lucinda, wife of William Hollingsworth, 1814; died June 14, 
1881; age 67 yr., 1 mo., 6 da. 

3. Samuel Mart, 1824; died Feb. 13, 1889; aged 65 yr., 2 mo., 23 da. 

4. Esther, wife of Samuel Mart, 1821; died Aug. 31, 1889; aged 66 
6 mo., 11 da. 

5. Joseph M. Little, 1835-1909. 

6. Millie Little. 1839-1913. 

7. Matindam Kirk, 1817; died 1905, 3 mo., 14 da. 

8. Joseph Kirk, 1806; died 1886, 5 mo., 14 da. 

9. John Copprod, 1805; died Jan. 15, 1891, aged 86 yr., 6 mo., 15 da. 

10. Daniel Winslow, 1812; died May 18, 1889; aged 77 yrs., 9 mo., 
23 days. 

11. Anthony W. Wood, 1827; died Feb. 23, 1889; aged 62 yr., 6 mo., 
17 da. 

12. Joseph Hollingsworth, Aug. 23, 1814; died Aug. 8, 1897; aged 
83 yr., 7 mo., 8 da. 

13. Elijah Thomas, July 7, 1820; died 1889. 

14. Meri Hodson, 1820; died 1890. 

15. P-r?h Newby, 1824; died 1911, 8 mo., 3 da. 

16. Tl omas Newby, May 7, 1824; died Dec. 7, 1903. 

* 

BURSON CEMETERY 
Four Miles East of Marion on Montpelier Pike. 

1. Anna Pattay — Born, 1822; died, 1855. 

2. Eleanor Boxell — Born, 1810; died, 1852. 



3. Sarah E. McFadden— Born, 1825; died 1865, age 30 yr., 7 mo., 
21 days. 

4. Mary M. McFadden — Born, 1832; died, 1853; age 21 yr., 7 mo, 
9 days. 

5. Margaret Pulley — Born, 1816; died, 1845. 

6. Adam Pulley — Born, 1764; died, 1857. 

7. Keturah Pulley— Born, 1822; died, 1881; age 59 yr., 9 mo., 7 da. 

8. Amos May — Born, 1829; died, 1865. 

9. Keturah Wine — Born, 1788; died, 1846. 

10. George Wine — Born, 1787; died, 1870; age 83 yr., 5 mo., 3 da. 

11. Catherine Boxell— Born, 1800; died, 1893. 

12. William Boxell — Born, 1801; died, 1881. 

13. J. J. Pulley — Born, Jan. 18, 1833; died, Dec. 15, 1910. 

14. James Boiler — Born Nov. 30, 1790; died Aug. 23, 1861. 

15. Ruth E. Boiler— Born, Oct. 29, 1825; died, Aug. 3, 1905. 

16. Rachel Marsh— Born, 1794; died, 1854. 

17. Jesse Marsh — Born, 1789; died, 1852. 

18. Elizabeth Pulley— Born, 1792; died, 1871. 

19. Samuel Pulley— Born, 1791; died, 1871; age 80 yr., 2 mo., 5 da. 

20. Jonathan Burson — Born, 1808; died, 1862. 

21. Juliana Burson — Born, 1808; died, 1890. 

22. Elizabeth Wolff— Born, 1815; died, 1895. 

23. Jonas Wolff— Born, 1810; died, 1874. 

24. George Elwood — Born, 1838; died, 1863. 

25. Thomas G. Elwood — Born, 1814; died, 1861; age 47 yr. 8 mo, 7 d. 

26. Mary Bevard — Born, 1822; died, 1842. 

27. Beason Bevard— Born, 1825; died, 1845. 

28. Charles Bevard — Born, 1790; died, 1841. 

29. Zachariah Glary— Born, 1766; died, 1846. 

30. John A. Boxell — Born, Jan. 9, 1840; died, Aug. 26, 1805. 

31. Mary E. Pulley— Born, 1837; died, 1860. 

32. Margaret Pulley — Born, 1830; died, 1898; age 68 yr., 7 mo., 6 da. 

— Mary Howell. 

HUMMEL CEMETERY (SOMETIMES CALLED LOBDELL) 
On Range Line Road, Six Miles North of Marion. 

1. Zenobia Hummel, died Oct. 18, 1874; aged 63 yr., 5 mo., 7 da. 

2. Henry, son of C. and Z. Hummel, died Oct. 6, 1837; aged 4 yr., 
8 mo.o, 10 da. 

3. Henry Hummel, died Dec. 17, 1849; aged 80 yrs., 5 mo., 26 da. 

4. Elanor, wife of Henry Hummel, died Sept. 1, 1857; aged 72 yrs., 
3 mo. 

5. Charles Hummel, died Dec. 16, 1882; aged 78 yr., 2 mo., 26 da. 

6. Edward Fox, died Feb. 13, 1885; aged 78 yr., 6 mo., 7 da. 

7. Henry C. Curtis, died Aug. 23, 1860; aged 23 yr., 4 mo., 21 da. 

8. Martha Armstrong, died June 3, 1894; aged 54 yr., 8 mo. 

9. John Lobdell, died Nov. 13, 1890; aged 81 yr., 1 mo., 2 da. 

10. Plesanda, wife of John Lobdell, died Dec. 15, 1897; aged 79 
yr., 9 mo., 1 da. 

11. John W. Melick, 1808-1870, 

12. Harriet Watson, 1815-1889. 

13. Elizabeth, daughter of J. W. and H. Melick, died June 18, 1857; 
aged 22 yr., 9 mo., 28 da. 

14. William Ward, died Oct. 3, 1869; aged 57 yr., 10 mo., 3 da. 

15. Jackson Hummel, died Oct. 23, 1875; aged 45 yr., 8 mo., 23 da. 

16. Abraham Hedrick, died Jan. 25, 1894; aged 88 yr., 20 da. 

17. Sarah G., wife of Abraham Hedrick, died Sept. 23, 1885; aged 
78 yr., 9 mo., 1 da. 

18. Esther, wife of John Fox, died March 22, 1860; aged 45 yr., 
5 mo., 2 da. 

19. David N. Hedrick, died May 22, 1857; aged 39 yr., 3 mo., 18 da. 

20. Maria M., wife of John Hedrick, died Jan. 4, 1864; aged 85 yr., 
I mo., 6 da. ^ , 

21. Thomas Watson, died Sept. 10, 1856; aged 67 yr., 3 mo., 8 da. 

22. Elizabeth, wife of Thomas Watson, died Aug. 27, 1869; aged 



V4 yr., 2 r-n_, 28 da. 

aged ^3" da^^'"'' '^" '^^"^^^^^ «^ Henry and Mary Bane, died Dec. 24, 1839; 

24. Henry Bane, died Jan. 10, 1865; aged 53 yr 6 mo 5 da 
6mo!'7df'"' "^'^ ^' ^""-^ ^^-' died^une'l,-'im;-'aged-70 yr.. 

6 mo!'23^dr^ ""■' "^^' '^ ^- ^- ^"^^''^"' ^"^d J"^- 1' 1870; aged 33 yr.. 
2-. y?.!'r;^da^"'^' '''" ^^ ^- ^"^ ^- McDane], died April 17, 1856; aged 
aged '^9 yr^^ltt i^f/^^^^^" «^ J" -^ C McDanel, died June 1, 1841; 
71 y?.!'8 da?^'""^' ^'^^ ""^ "^"^^ McDanel, died Feb. 19, 1876; aged 
yr.. 2;?'da'^''^" McDanel, born Aug. 1, 1803, died Aug. 24, 1874; aged 71 

31. Jacob Hansley died March 26, 1872; aged 67 yr., 8 mo., 14 da 
190i?'age?To^^yjf^f/lf df ^-' '°^" ^^^^^ ''''''' died' Jat 3. 
yr., (? mo..^l?'c[l"''' ^'^^ °' '^°^" Wagoner, died July 13, 1866; aged 84 

34. Catherine S. Hedrick, died June 2, 1898; aeed 61 yr., 4 mo 2 da 
died Dec/i:'r86''o?S l4M,'8 ^n"o' ^1^7^'''' ''''' ^^^^^ ''' ''''' 

^_! 

GRIFFIN CEMETERY 
1 r^ 1 '^^t"* .*^o„>"iJes east on Soldiers' Hoirve Pike. 

1. Calet Morris, 1802, died March 10, 1858; age 56 yr., 11 mo 23 da 
?• ??^'wr P°'' T.^' ^LH Jr^ 2' 18^2:' aged 77'^vr., 7 mo]: 1 da 

3. Elizabeth Poe, 1801, died April 29, 1878 ; age 77 yr., 4 mo , 4 da 

4. Thomas Gabe, June 8, 1806, died Nov. 16 1887 '"- * aa. 

5. Michael Futrell, 1811, died 1888; age 77 yr.. 11 mo.. 24 da. 

6. James Griffin, 1784, died 1862; aged 78 yr., 8 mo., 11 da 

* . 

UNION CHAPEL CEMETERY 
Two Miles North of H-nfieM. 

1. James Phillip, June 16, 1807, died Dec. 16, 1874. 

2. Margaret C, wife of Josepn Eis, 1823, died Sept. 28, 1871; aged 
4» yr., 5 mo., 3 da. * 

3. Jesse Moore, son of G. and D. Moore, 1826, died Feb 13 1863- 
aged 37 yr., 3 mo., 13 da. • > ^ . 

4. Susan, wife of Isaac Bradford, 1823, died Dec. 21, 1877- ao-ed 
54 yr., 10 mo.o, 26 da. ' * 

5. Levi Carter, 1790, died June 15, 1871; age 81 yr., 11 mo 7 da 

6. Catherine, wife of J. D. Beekman, 1817, died May 25, 18(38; aged 
51 yr., 3 mo., 18 da. j > , s^u 

7. Susannah, wife of A. Galatine, 1812, died Jan 23 1854 

8. Jacob Coachran, 1797, died Dec. 11, 1863 

■ 9. Sarah, wife of J. Hutton, 1831, died Jan. 5,'l877; age 36 yr 1 da 

10. Jesse Ronrne, 1791 died Feb. 16, 1855; age 64 yr., 4 mo., 6 da.' 

ol-.^"^^^"^ Ebbert, 1812, died Sept. 14, 1858; age 46 y^ 11 

mo., 27 days. ' ^ j y ^ 

^ -^^u ^^^y- "^^^^ «f A. Ebbert, 1814, died June 8, 1864; age 50 years, 
6 months, 8 days. j- . 

13. Jacob H. Shank, 1799, died May 30, 1874 

14. Catherine Shank, 1818, died March 9 1879 

* 

DEER CREEK CEMETERY 
Five an ^ -ne-half miles south of Marion public square, on Harmon St 

1. -.bgail S. Coats, 1832-1898. 

2. Wife of Dr. Charles, 1830-1869 

3. Samuel Ladd, 1828-1856. 

4. William Ladd, 1797-1857. 

5. Isabelle Ladd, 1805-1851. 

6. Sally Coleman, 1791-1864. 



7. T. C. Jones, 1840-1863. 

8. Zilpha Whitson, 1824— 

9. Susan Carter, 1821- 



10. John Shugart, 1795-1853. 

11. Lewis Wooton, 1800-1850. 

12. Martha Wooton, 18C1-1863. 

13. Elijah Jacl'son, 1798-1868. 

14. John Douglas, 1838-1849. 

15. Irene Shugart, 1833-1837. 

16. Mrs. Geo. Shugart, 1825-1867. 

17. Lydial J. Lowery, 1839-1882. 

18. Thomas Harris, 1796-1870. 

19. Mary Harris, 1799-1862. 

20. Joseph Thomas. 1835-1860. 

21. Geo. Harris, 1825-1846. 

22. Davis Harris, 1830-1851. 

23. Andrew Jackson, 1761-1859. 

24. Mary Douglas, 1811-1849. 

25. Bennie Coleman, 1830-1861. 

^— 



TINKLE CEMETERY 
One-h-jlf mile .south of Landessville. 

1. Alexander, husband of Hester Campbell, born Jan. 1, 1826, died 
March 6, 1882; aged 56 yr., 2 mo., 5 da. 

2. .Tames Love, died Oct. 30, 1875; aged 45 yr., 5 mo., 28 da. 

3. Lydia A., wife of James Love, died March 4, 1916; aged 80 yr., 
E mo., 9 days. 

4. Enos R. Johnson, 1830-1911. 

5. John Bal-er, died Jan. 28, 1892: aged 81 yr., 3 mo., 21 da. 

6. Mary, wife of J. M. Baker, died Dec. 30, 1903; aged 90 yr., 
4 mo., 25 days. 

7. Martha V., wife of Christopher Baker, died Dec. 1, 1892; aged 
52 yr., 11 mo., 4 days. 

8. Christopher Baker, March 17, 1840— May 1, 1906. 

9. Wm. B. Pulley, Julv 5, 1832— Jan. 25, 1913. 

10. Susanna, wife of Daniel Tinkle, June 29, 1836; April 13, 1910- 

11. A. Endsley, died Feb. 7, 1897; aged 73 yr., 1 mo., 25 da. 

12. Mary A. M., wife of A. Endsley, died Jan. 7, 1870; aged 61 yr., 
8 mo., 7 days. 

13. Catharine J. Tinkle (nee Shinholt) died April 6, 1883; aged 
59 yr., 9 mo., 18 days. 

14. Eliza, wife of Henry Tinkel, died March 30, 1896; aged 85 years, 
29 days. 

15. Nancey Endsley, wife of Wm. W. Hewitt, April 30, 1858 — Aug. 
1, 1902; aged 44 yr., 3 mo., 1 da. 

16. Freeman E. Ballard died Dec. 22, 1899; aged 60 yr., 17 da, 

17. William Cochran, 1831-1911. 

18. Moses H. Miller, died Nov. 28, 1898; aged 85 years. 

19. Margaret C, wife of M. H. Miller, died June 19, 1901; aged 
84 yr., 1 mo., 7 da. 

20. Simeon Line, born Oct. 17, 1814, died April, 1895. 

21. Ann C, wife of Simeon Born, Feb. 9, 1822, died Feb. 2, 1898. 

22. M. E., wife of J. L. Pope, June 2, 1839; Nov. 7, 1908. 

23. Nancy Whitmer, 1822-1910. 

24. Sarah, wife of John Endsley, died Oct. 10, 1893; aged 56 yr., 
2 mo., 18 days. 

25. Sarah Bantham, died April 20, 1921; aged 84 yr, 

26. Joseph W, Lee, Oct. 4, 1829— Oct. 23, 1916. 

27. Lucetta Lee, April 14, 1831— Feb. 26, 1904. 

28. Jacob Tinkel, Sept, 7, 1840— July, 1889, 

29. Mary A., wife of Jacob Tinkel, Dec. 15, 1842 — Jan. 29, 1908. 

30. Martin Whiteneck, Sept. 19, 1830— June 3, 1913, 



FLETCHER CHAPEL CEMETERY 
. TT , T ^^""^e '"•'es south of Hanfield. | 

years/s m^n?hf 25-da"ys'' °' '^ "^^ ''''"'''' '^^' ^^^^ ^' 1«^«' ^^^^ ^0 ! 
?■ i?^",'!- Veach, Jan. 16, 1817— Feb. 18, 1879. I 

6. Clotilda wife of John J. Veach, Feb. 23, 1829— July 31, 1914 

4. Christopher C. Fields, Feb. 25, 1828— Aug. 30, 1905. { 

5. Mrs. Christopher C. Fields, July 16, 1833— May 9, 1919. i 
b. bally, wife of A. R. Munns, Feb. 9, 1827— May 1, 1908 ; 

7. James Dillon, died May 7, 1824; aged 54 yr., 5 mo.o, 7 da. 
'Joseph Marsh, died March 5, 1888; aged 61 yr., 10 mo., 26 da. i 
Mary M., wife of Joseph Marsh, died Feb. 2, 1903; aged 79 i 
, 4 dpys. > > & 1 
Elizabeth Evan, 1826-1871. 
George W. Wine, 1823-1852. 

Joseph Lugar, died Aug. 24, 1853; aged 49 yr., 27 days. \ 
Mary Lugar, died Sept. 9, 1887; aged 76 yr., 10 mo., 24 da. 

William Booler, died Nov. 30, 1882; aged 67 yr., 10 mo., 19 da ' 

Keziah, wife of William Booler, died Dec. 18, 1882, aged 67 ' 
, 17 da. 

Sarah J., wife of William D. Boiler, died Feb. 14, 1879; aged : 

8 months, 27 days. : 

J. W. Lawyer, May 12, 1823 — June 25, 1909. ! 

E. A., wife of J. W. Lawyer, Sept. 19, 1823 — Dec. 14, 1875. 1 
John M., son of Wm. and P. Cranston, died Dec. 8, 1857; aged ! 

4 months, 25 days. j 

Phebe, wife of Henry Shanhulser, died Aug. 18, 1880; aged 77 • 

months, 23 days. i 
William Cranston, died Oct. 14, 1852; aged 43 yr., 3 mo., 15 da. I 

Benjamin Marsh, died Sept. 11, 1876; aged 59 yr., 8 mo. i 
Mary, wife of H. Shanehulser, died Feb. 27, 1883; aged 66 ! 

months, 3 days. ; 

* 

KNOX CHAPEL j 

Two and one-half miles south-east of Point Isabel. | 

Cordelia Lane, died Dec. 5, 1867; age 50 yr., 8 mo., 26 da. ! 

Samuel Lane, died April 8, 1875; age 63 yr., 9 da. jj 

Nancy Keever, born Aug. 10, 1821, died May 5, 1903. ;j 

4. George Keever, died Oct. 25, 1879; age 60 yr., 6 mo., 23 da. ! 

5. Wesley Keever, died Nov. 21, 1866; age 36 yr., 4 mo., 16 da. 

6. Joseph H. Pyle, died Aug. 30, 1881; age 52 yr., 3 mo., 1 da. ' 

7. Abraham Downs, died May 27, 1874, age 74 yr., 1 mo., 17 da. 

8. Barbara A. Downs, died July 29, 1887; age 72 yr., 9 mo., 27 da. ; 

9. Wm. S. Dickey, died Feb. 21, 1878; age 52 years. | 

10. Wm. Legg, born Oct. 7, 1822, died Oct. 12, 1899. j 

11. Clarissa Legg, born Aug. 23, 1827, died May 16, 1907. j 

12. James E. Hinton, 1827-1911. i 

13. Ruhania Hinton, 1833-1875. j 

14. Willis Hinton, died July 22, 1878; age 72 yr., 2 mo., 5 da. j 

15. Mary A. Hinton, died Aug. 2, 1879; age 63 years, 1 month. i 

16. Wm. Patterson, died April 4, 1881; age 58 yr., 3 mo. s 

17. Samuel Stiers, died Jan. 15, 1917; age 80 yr., 7 mo., 22 da. 

18. Hannah Stiers, died Aug. 16, 1875; age 68 yr., 6 mo., 18 da. 

19. Alva Stiers, died Oct. 12, 1878; age 70 yr., 4 mo., 21 da. ; 

20. Nancy Jones, died Dec. 5, 1876; age 82 yr., 2 mo„ 12 da. ] 

21. Ebenezer D. Covalt, died May 30, 1865; age 41 yr., 10 moo. | 

22. Ann Covalt, died Jan. 2, 1875; aged 80 years. '\ 

23. Abraham Covalt, died 1886; age 88 years. '; 

24. Alive Stevens, died 1870; age 36 years. 

25. Christian Lane, died 1873; age 27 years, 10 months. 

26. Elizabeth Jane Houston, died June 3, 1888; age 65 yr., 2 mo., 
ays. I 

27. Matilda Wilson, died Sept. 22, 1876; age 69 years. * 

28. William H. Pinkerman, 1829-1880. < 



yr. 


, 3 mo. 




10. 




11. 




12. 




13. 




14. 




15. 


yr. 


, 7 mo, 




16. 


81 


years, 




17. 




IS. 




19. 


23 


years, 




20. 


years, 7 r 




21. 




22. 




23. 


years, 10 




1. 




2. 




3. 



24 days. 



29. Rebecca P.nkerman, 1833-1911. 

30. James Titus, 1802-1876, 

31. Lydia Titus, 1814-1901. 

32. Mary Leer, 1803-1885. 

o^ i''^^T-\J^.\ ^^"^'■' ^^^^ J"^y ^' 1895, age 69 yr., 11 mo., 20 da. ^ 

34. Belinda Miller, died Jan. 11, 1869; age 52 yr., 7 mo 2 da 

35. John Knox, died Dec. 12, 1874; age 75 yr., 11 mo., 8 da. ! 

36. Margaret Spell, died Feb. 12, 1873; age 39 years. i 

37. Spencer Spell, died July 13, 1874; age 43 yr., 1 mo., 23 da. ! 

38. Wm. S. Liphtfoot, died April 11, 1879; ase 69 yr., 23 da. 1 

39. Wm. S. Lightfoot, died Oct. 14, 1877; age 71 yr., 8 mo., 8 da. \ 

40. Jane, wile of Eli Butler, died Sept. 22; age 86 yr., 1 mo., 8 da. ! 

41. Sarah John, born April 12, 1818, died July 27, 1876. . ! 

ROWLAND CEMETERY ' 
One and three-fourth"; miles southwest of Sweetser. 

1. Ruben Rowland, died Nov. 2, 1867, born Nov. 2, 1797, 

2. Almada L., w^ife of J. J. Street, died May 3, 1872; age 43 years, ; 

6 months, 20 d?ys. ; 

3. Leonard, husband of Julia A. Allen, died June 15, 1869; age 38 i 
years, 3 months, 24 days. ; 

4. Phcebe J., wife of J. Harrell, died Oct. 23, 1850; age 33 years, 

1 month, 14 days. ; 

5. Elizabeth, wife of John Wood, died Nov. 1, 1862; age 76 years, 

4 months. 22 days. j 

6. Elizabeth, wife of Wm. Sharp, died Oct. 1, 1862; age 66 years, I 

7 months, 9 days. | 

7. Ellen Wood, died April 10, 1863; age 25 yr., 11 mo., 9 da. ' 

8. Eli/Pbfth \,ood, died Nov. 1, 1862; age 76 yr., 10 mo., 22 da. ; 

9. Lewis F. R. Morgan, died March 1, 1877; age 76 yrs., 3 mo., 15 da 

10. L-.uisa. wife of August Herbst, died Feb. 21, 1875; age 48 years, • 

10 months, 15 days. ■ 



JONESEORO CEMETERY — LOCATED IN GAS CITY 

i. Jacob Candy, 1820-1907. 

2. Hannah Jacobs, 1824-1902. 

3. Ann Lewis, 1829-1897. 

4. Jesse Cummins, 1827-1908. 

5. Lois Ann Cummins. 1827-1908. 

6. Futrell, 1829-1875. 

7. Cynthia Stewart, 1838-1874. 

8. Sarah W^hitson, 1809-1892. 

9. Samuel B. Houck, 1825-1905. 

10. Mary A. Houck, 1825-1905. 

11. Edward Bird, 1804-1870. 

12. Elizabeth Bird, 1808-1893. 

13. Elizabeth Hastings, 1814-1889; 7y years, 10 months, 1 days. 

14. Lucinda Overman, 1840-1902; 62 years, 5 months, 16 days. 

15. John Smith, 1809-1888; 79 years, 9 months, 8 days. 

16. Mary Ann Smith, 1814-18-90; 76 years, 7 months, 17 days. 

17. Elizabeth Dowling, 1814-1901. 

18. William Dowling, 1829-1910. 

19. Caroline E. Hubert, 1827-1895. 

20. Sarah Havens, 1806-1878. 

21. James H. lark, 1789-1873. 

22. Sarah H. Clark, 1796-1885. 

23. Charles Smith, 1813-1879. 

24. Beulah Haines, 1823-1879. 

25. Moses Luce, age 91 years, 5 months, 14 days. 

26. Hannah Arnett, 1818-1904. 

27. Isaac Roush, 1813-1896. 

28. Mary Roush (wife) 1817-1897. 

29. S. G. Hoover, 1835-1902. 

30. Wm. Ellers, 1836-1907. 



32. Chas. W Gift, 1836-1902. 
Jd. Wm. Smith King, 1880-1902 
"4. Anna R. King (wife), 1839-1907. 

Two ,-n. o.,.,Trl ?l!^f^^!vSfT°!P-'^"^«^ 

1 P]i-a, t^ ,;'^'p'-°-G=°C?.tr='r°-'"""'' ■"'''"-'••• "'" 

14, 1892. ""''=*'• ""^ "' '■ B-llenger, born Dec. 13, 1827, died Sept 

■^0 yea'rs, stent's: ir?ayf '"""' '^"-'"' "''^ ^'»- ^8, 1885; age 

.5 n,onL,rrys"-- °'^--.iahX\^s,leSDT 0^ fs97VC'^4\t., 
6. DavjdBalJenger, diedMay 5, 1842;age 28 vrs 9 mo 1?H.,.= 

4 n.onlhs,lft:yr'^ ^' '^™- ^^^^-^' ^^^ ^'-1 lo! "s/o raV'o'^ears. 
9- ESbeTl'%v^?- ^^-.^.^Coy died Aug. 4, 1859; age 43 yrs., 7 mo 

years, 5 n.onthsri6 d^^^- " '' '''' ^'^'- ''' ''''' ^^^ '^' 



10. 
11 



Isaac BaJlenger, born Feb. 29, 1820, died Au- 2 1881 
IP S^'t^fe'''*^ °^ W"^- Looker, 1788; died July'sO 1854 
]i go«\Bowers, 1794; died Sept. 15, 1854 ^ ' '^• 

14 qn^nf 1' -S'^^ ""^ ^- ^^'^-^^•^' 1787; died June 11, 1855 
14. Samuel H Bowers, 1819; died June 6, 1892. 

16: iTe^' R^^'nt.li^r.'-^ll ^i?.T^3' 1830; di_ed Feb. 3, 1902. 



T -on -^"liiuci .uuwers, le^u; cued 

James Ballenger, 1796; died May 24 1874 
Benjamin Fuller, Feb. 4, 1815; died Dec. 2 
S. C. Fuller, Nov. 29, 1833; died July 22. li 
f^^'^^^l^^^J>^^-^^^-er, 1812; died Dec. 23, 1881 



91 Ml T^- ^.^l^enger, Nov. 1, 1825; died Feb. 25, 1901 

''■ S^"^' ^±°y^Yo.^^Ll-/-' J"'y ^1835; died'Ja'n. 20, 



22. Geo. w: L;ona\V;-1805rdier]5ec."l4N'^^^^^ '^^' ^^"- ^^' '^^^ 

23. Jas. Morris, 1819; died May 18, 1876 

24. John Johnson, 1819; died Sept. 24, 1845. 



Jas. Morris, 1819; died May 18, 1876 
John Johnson, 1819; died Sept. 24, IS^t; 

25. John V/alker, 1809; died July 24, 1845 

26. Emily, wife of Wm. Mitchell, 1809; died July 21, 1888 

27. David Troxell, 1813; died March 8 1851. 
on if^^^ Smith, 1804; died April 30, 1859 
?A Jf'^Ti: "^\^^ ""^ '^''™^^ ^™^^^^' l'^88; died Sept. 2, 1863 
SO. Martha Ann, wife of Peter Niccum, 1790; died Oct 18 18«^^ 
31. Rubin Kidner, 1809; died March 28, 1870 ' * 
o2. Daniel Keever, 1819; died March 18, 1895 
3o. Eliza, wife of D. Keever, 1189; died Set^t. 12, 1876 
34. Samuel Hodson, 1801; died Oct. 12, 1866 

ia ?1'*^t' T^^nto^• godson, 1802; d^ed July 30, 1872. 

36. John Jacks. 1778; died March 20, 1869 

37. Phoebe, wife of John Jacks, 1782; d=ed Dec. 30, 1853. 
d8. 1 hoebe, wife of John Adamson. 1822; di^d Feb 10 ISSf-. 

39. James S. Currens, 1806; died Aug 2 1869 • ' '- , 

40. Wm. Hoffman, 1829; died May 1879 ' ' 

jl- Sl^'c^^^"^'^^-'^'' ""^ ^- ^^'^^^' 1821; died Sept. 6, 1886. 

42. Wmburn Oliver, 1816; died Feb. 4 1885 

43. Thomas Myers, Feb. 24, 1818; died'Nov 27 1902 

44. Lucmda Myers, May 9, 1829; died June 9. 1907. 

45. Jessie Johnson, Aug. 8, 1824; died June 17, 1914. i 

46. Elizabeth Johnson, 1826, died Jan. 25, 1902 ; 

47. James Johnson, Nov. 2, 1821; died Dec. 1, 1910. ] 

48. Henriette Fisherback, April 20, 1820; died July 11, 18^? \ 

49. Christian Fisherback, July 24, 1819; born Aug. 3, iSDj j 

50. Frederick Fisherback, 1817; died Jan. 5, 1892. 



c. 

years, 5 
7. 
8. 


10. 
11. 
12. 



51. William Mitchell, died Jan. 6, 1871; age 63 yrs., 6 mo., 11 days 

u2. ofii.es S. (.Liieris, liiC6; died Aug. 2, 1S69. 

53. Elizabeth Currens, 1800; died July 8, 1872, age 71 yrs., 8 mo., 4 

i34. Elizabeth C. Jadden, 1812, died Sept. 30, 1883; age 71 yrs., 2 mo. 

BETHEL CEMETERY 
Three miles southeast Jonesbocro en Muncie-Jcnesbcro Pike. 

1. Mary Ann Clark, M'ife of C. Clark, died Aug. 26, 1858; aged 
34 year;, 7 months, 21 days. 

2. Abraham Reeve, born June 6, 1803, died Dec. 20, 1870; aged 
6/ years, 6 montlrs, 14 days. 

S. Elizabeth, wife of Abraham Reeve, died Jan. 23, 1858; age 49 
years, 3 months, 15 days. 

4. George W. Lucas, son of Thomas M. and M. M. Lucas, died Dec. 
lb, 1850; age 11 years, 8 months, 23 days. 

5. Johnathan Kavens, died June 30, 1863; aged 43 yrs., 8 mo., 13 da 
Lucinda, wife of Ruban Garrison, died Jan. 3, 1870; aged 46 

months. 

Sarah, wife of J. B. Allen, died Feb. 12, 1871; age 70 yrs., 28 da. 
Joseph B. Allen, died Feb. 14, 1854; aged 58 yrs., 1 mo., 25 da. 
Nancy Selby, born Nov. 10, 1776, died Oct. 8, 1852. 
Ctto Selby i^ eb. 16, 1881; age 75 years, 4 months, 22 days. 
Jane C. Selby, Oct. 5, 1896; age 75 years, 5 months, 15 days. 
Thomas D. Duling, Sr., born Nov. 22, 1811, died Jan. 4, 1891; 
age 79 years, 1 month, 12 days. 

13. Nancy, wife of Thom.as D. Duling, died Jan. 16, 1877; aged 62 
years, 9 months, 7 days. 

14. Matilda, wife of Elijah Lucas, died April 19, 1856; age 53 years. 
1 month, 8 days. 

15. Mary L., daughter of John and Matilda Lucas, died Nov. 19, 1853, 
e 15 years. 

1^>. Mary Ann Lucas, bcrn Feb. 11, 1824; died Nov. 16, 1853. 

17. John McWilson, died Nov. 12, 1865; aged 56 years, 3 days. 

18. Wm. Bates, died Sept. 12, 1853; age 83 years, 10 days. 

19. Elizabeth Bates, wife of Wm. Bates, died Aug. 20, 1831; age 
55 y^^p.rs, 10 months. 

20. Elizabeth, wife of Wm. Bates, died Aug. 19, 1853; aged 73 
years, 4 months, 29 days. 

21. Hannah, wife of Wm. Bates, died Sept. 1, 1843; aged 63 years, 
10 months, 3 da vs. 

22. David Bates, died 1853; aged 34 years, 6 months, 27 days. 

23. Elizabeth Bates, wife of David Bates, died Feb. 16, 1857; aged 
37 years, 10 months, 27 days. 

24. Michael Mason, died Oct. 18, 1886; aged 53 yr., 3 days. 

27. Thomas W. Winans, died Sept. 11, 1860; aged 84 yr., 18 da. 

26. Elizabeth Toodd, died Jan. 15, 1883; aged 59 yr., 8 mo., 25 da. 

27. Adrial Todd, died Oct. 20, 1877; aged 67 yr., 5 mo., 15 days. 
2S William Stout, Sept. 6, 1828, Nov. 8, 1907. 

29. Elizabeth Stout, Sept. 10, 1833; April 26, 1875. 

30. Eliza Duling, March 1, 1887; aged 68 years, 8 months, 3 days. 
?:1. Edmund Duling, Feb. 10, 1901; aged 83 years, 10 months, 2 da. 
32 Johnathan Marine, born Mav 26, 1831; died Dec. 7, 1913. 

33. Mary Marine, Sept. 26, 1834; April 9, 1867. 

34. Rachel Norton, July 4, 1876; age 63 yrs., 2 mo., 19 days. 

35. Louisa Norton, died Nov. 4, 1858; aged 38 years, 7 months. 

36. Geo. Nose, died Sent. 25, 1872; age 55 years, 10 months. 

37. Joseph Jones, died Sept. 16, 1856; aged 40 yr., 5 mo., 1 da. 
38 Catharine Jones, died Dec. 4, 1889; aged 73 yr., 11 mo. 

39. Ellis Jones, died March 18, 1863; aged 82 yr., 2 mo., 28 da. 

40 David Mareland, died Sept. 16, 1860; aged 59 yr., 11 mo., 16 da. 

41 Cynthia M. Larkin, July 8, 1830— Nov. 27, 1911. 
42. Moses Larkin, Dec. 27, 1824; Sept. 17, 1898. 

43 Jane, wife of M. F. Larkin, died Nov. 5, 1858; age 30 years, 8 



months, 20 days. ij 

44. Mariah, wife of M. F. Larkin, died May 22, 1865; age 30 yr . 

14 days. ' 

45. Nancy Greer, March 27, 1880; age 83 years, 11 months, 26 days. i 

46. Thomas Reynolds, age 73; died 1868. j 

47. Rebecca Reynolds, age 67; died 1867. 

48. Nancy Johnson, age 33; died 1863. \ 

49. Gabriel Johnson, born Nov. 28, 1797, in Alleghany Courcy, Md.: ' 
died Oct. 17, 1867. yr , . 

50. Nancy Johnson, died Feb. 14, 1856; aged 57 years. j 

51. ISAAC SUDDATH, NOV. 27, 1854; AGED 99; OLD REVOI.U- 
TIONIST. 3 

52. Sarah M. Nottingham, died July 24, 1853; age 39 years. ■ 

53. Jane S. Duling, died Nov. 4, 1880; age 64 years. / 

54. Solomon Duling, May 27, 1871; age 58 years. | 

55. Daniel Duling, Feb. 16, 1879; age 42 years. 

56. Finer Evans, died Oct. 27, 1889; age 76 years. ; 

57. Jerusha Moore, July 20, 1863; age 77 years. ' 

58. Edward Moore, Sr.,' March 25, 1864; age 79 years. j 

59. Enoch Druley, Oct. 20, 1849; age 20 years. ! 

CURTIS CEMETERY j 

Foour miles north of Marion Public Square, on Lagro road. j 

1. Lydia Curtis, 1826, died Aug. 17, 1844; age 18 years. 

2. Aaron Curtis, 1817. died July 13, 1845; aeed 28 years. : 

3. Leurenda, daughter of Henry and Phoebe Eyliert, 1836, died Oct. I 
20, 1848; aged 12 years, 9 months, 14 days. i 

4. Martha J., daughter of B. and Malinda Boots, 1839, died April I 
6, 1855; age 16 years, 6 months, 14 days. 

5. Caroline, wife of R. T. Shilling, 1833, died Aug. 10, 1862; age ' 
29 years, 8 months. 24 days. 

6. Phebe, wife of B. M. Hamaker, 1824, died Aug. 13, 1855; age 

31 years, 3 months, 24 days. ( 

7. Jacob Maggart, 1792; died Sept. 27, 1858. 

8. Isom Lauson, 1777; died Sept. 1857. 
9. Anna J. Badger, 1831; died Oct. 1845. 

10. Anna, wi e of Job Curtis, 1794, died Oct. 10, 1879; age 85 years, 
7 months, 20 days. 

11. Job Curtis, 1797, died Jan. 24, 1880; age 83 years, 12 days. 

12. Elizabeth Ann, wife of W. H. Ellis and daughter of Boots, 1812, 
died March 2, 1862; age 50 years, 8 months. 23 days. 

13. Eli F., son of W. H. and E. A. Ellis, 1829, died Jan. 17, 1851; 
age 22 years, 18 days. 

14. Elizabeth Smith, Aug. 8, 1811, died Dec. 29, 1897; age 86 years, 

4 months, 21 days. j 

15. John H. Smith, Dec. 6, 1801, died Oct. 16, 1863; age 61 years, j 
10 months, 10 days. 

* 

On Splem Pike, cne mile etst of Nrrlh Mrion. i 

Catherine Martin— Boorn 1824; ded 1895. 

Almarinda Massey — Born 1833; died 1898. , ' 

Rebecca Massey— Born 1796; died 1885. \ 

Robert Massey — Born 1793; died 1860. 
Steohen Nicewanger — Born 1801; died 1873. 
Ase'nath N'cewanger — Born 1805; died 1886. 

Benjamin F. Myers— Born 1838; died 1872. ' 

John Parlett— Barn 1822; died 1896. ' 

Mary Ann Parlett— Born 1827; died 1859. I 

Rev. James Paxton — Born 1810; died 1859. | 

Sarah Price — Born 1835: died 1890. ' \ 

John Rockhill— Born 1812; died 1855. 
Jesse Swift — Born 1783; died 1855. 



John Shinholt — Born 1826; died 1863. 
John A. Solver — Born 1830; died 1880. 
Amos Sears — Born 1&S9; died 1857. 
Wiiliam Woolman — Eorn 1834; died 18^5. 
Ruth Woolman — Eorn 1800; died 1875. 



FAIR VIEW 
One mile north, two west of H?nfield. 

1. Mary, wifp of Moses Bond, 1810; died Feb. 15, 1900; aged 90 
yrs., 1 mo., 23 da. 

2. 0. H. Co. .836-1919. 

3. Hamilton riix, June 16, 1832; died Se'^t. 14, 1908. 

4. Mary Ann, wi e of Hamilton Hix, July 13, 1832; died Feb. 1, 1885 

5. George Bradford, Aug. 21, 1773; died Dec. 14, 1855. 

6. EMzabeth, wife of G.-orge Bradford, Nov. 3, 1797; died Dec. 17, 
1847. 

7. Nofih S. Era;;ford,- 18S9; died Avg. 24, 1878; aged 39 yr., 8 mo., 
16 days. 

c. Lydia J. Sears. Nov. 15, 1815; died Jan. 9, 1898. 
9. Christophrr Srsrs, Aug. 3, 1614: died F-^^. 2-i, 1900. 
10. Urcy J., wife of Jessie T. Bradford, May 2, 1840; died March 
5, 1875. 

llJoseph Eradfcrd. 1824; died April 23, 1902; aged 84 yr., 5 mo. 

12. Sarah, wi'e of Joseph Bradford, 1829; died May 21, 1872; agod 
43 yr.. 6 mo., 26 di\ 

13. Y,e-Iey AVen, r '^9 1897. 

14. Rachel Alien, lfll-1895. 
1'. Tolomor Allen l:'3C-1880. 

16. Ruth Allen, 184C-1914. 

17. John Ellis. 1F25: d:ed June 20, 1P56. 

18. Emos W. Butler, 18C7; died Feb, 13, 1863; aged 56 yr., 11 mo., 
11 drv^ 

10. Edmund P. Gains, 1799; died Sept. 5, 1877; aged 78 yr., 6 m.)., 
17 days. 

2L'. Alire,- wi:e of Wm. Williams, 1811; died June 13, 1881; aged 
70 yrs., 6 days. 

21. Mary, wife of E. P. G;iins, 1798; died April 4, 1875; aged 77 
yr., 7 mo., 18 da. 

22. William W^liliams, 1797; died April 14. 1883; aged 86 yr., 29 da. 

23. Fen^'rmin Gains. Feb. 20, 1823: died June 8. 1888. 

24. Frances Gains, April 1, 1838; died July 2, 1896. 



BAPLEY CEMETERY 

Lrc-'e^ three rmiles east of M- r'cn on MontpelJer Pike, andl ojie-h?If m'le 

south on Trcyer ropd. 

1. Jacob Barley died at the age of 21 year-, Jan. 18, 1856. 

2. Louira Barley, age 20 days, died Anril 28. 1845. 

3. Matilda Barley, died Sept. 9, 1^47. at ape of 8 mo. and 27 da. 
A. Catharine Snyder died April 7, 1860, age 72 years. 

5. Mary Barley died Oct. 25. 18*^^. age 41 ye^rp. 

« -ppw other graves, unmarled. This cemetery is located in an old 
orchard on Charles Troyer's farm. 

^''A 

OVERMAN OR MAP'.! GROVE CEMETERY 
Cne ml r-ne-half miles nor«^h of Sweetser, rn Sweeteer Pikie. 

1 Isaac Renbarger, died July 1, 1864; age 43 yr., 6 mo., 27 da. 

2 Tsinh Owings. died August 17, 1897; age 76 yr.. 9 mo.. 19 da. 

3* Rnbv wi-e'of D. Arthur Hult-, hnrn Fe^. 21, 1823; died Sept. '89. 
i Jwi/i P Campbell, Sr., died ,Tan. 29, 1892; age 94 yr., 9 mo., 26 d. 
5. Emilia, wife of John P. Campbell, died Nov. 29, 1818; age 77 

-^^ 9 ''3 

**' 6 ' Phebe wife of Stephen Brach, born 1834; died Jan. 7, 1878. 

7' Amelia, wife of Samuel Galbreath, born 1809, died Feb. 20, 1876. 
S Isaac Beeson, Dec. 14, 1802; died Oct. 12, 1875. 



9. Isabella, wife of Isaac Beeson, 1806; died Nov. 4, 1874. 

10. Hezekiah, son of I. and I. Beeson, 1831; died Feb. 15, 1864. 

11. Martha A., wife of G. M. Youny, 1835; died Jan. 20, 1875. 

12. Joseph Newell, 1794; died Aue;. 21, 1854. 

13. Susanna Middleworth, lb39-lcS'71. 

14. Ihomas Eia-son, 18C7; died June 14, 1882. 

15. Anna Eurson, 1782; died Oct. 4, 1867. j, 

16. MargaietBurson, 1807; died April 4, 1889. I 

17. Harrison Brago-, 1824; died Jan. 12, 1873. i 

18. Jonathan Berry, 18G5; died May 28, 1874. ' |! 

19. Nancy Miller, Nov. 10, 1824; died April 2, 1877. I 

20. Henry G. Miller, July 6, 1806; died July 18, 1894. | 

21. Sarah Bertie Ravpholtz, 1810; died Nov. 7, 1822. 'l 

22. Rose Grant Ravpholtz, 1813; died Oct. 25, 1822. 

23. Stephen L. Raynholtz. 184C; died Oct. 4. 1877. 

24. Charles Leminsr, 1799; died Nov. 20, 1857. 

25. Mary Lemins^-, wife of Charles, Leming, 1816; died Dec. 25, 1888. | 

26. William Parkes, 18P0; died Anril 9. 1864. i 

27. Cra Philander Brnlr. 1815; died Anril 10, 1861. ! 
2S. Trckson Wh:-te. 1838; died Feb. 22, 1894. il 
29. Anp-eline Braeg, Feb. 28. 1831; died Feb. 22. 1910. i 
ro. Eliznbpth. wife of A. L. Doolev, 1837; died Jan. 20. 1899. , 

31. Jae-b L. Be-htel, May 31, 1814; di«d Aug. 31, 1863. j 

32. William Ravnholtz, 1816; died S-^-t. 18. 18^4. 

33. /"my, wife of J. A. Dawson. Aue-. 27. 1833; died March 19, 1889. 'i! 
?-': Moses H?rtpr, 1833; died Dec. 29, 1904. \ 
35. Thomas Pr'c' ett. Nov. 1, 1826; died M-rch ?0. 1897. ; 
3n. Eliza J., w'fe of P-t-r Passage. 1838; d^e^l Se-it. 19. 1875. ] 

37. Dia^tha, wife of C. J. S-nith.~1812 ; died Feb. 11. 1880. j 

38. Talvin J. Smith, 1806: died Am'il, 1.89^. | 

39. Mary R.. wi^e of W. R. Bnffineton. 1821: d-ed Nov. 8, 1877. j 
4". W. R. Euffington. 1^22 • die^' March 30, 1889. , 
^1. Dorsta "far-bs, 1827; died 1892. ; 
45>. Fpnry M'liler. 18?0- dipH Dec. 24. 1882. 

43. Ellen, w'fe of A. M.'Wolf^, 1818; died Aug. 31. 1892. : 

44. Julia Ann, wife of Janahan K. Prickett, Nov. 17, 1835; died | 
Feb. 17, 1884. -| 

4r,_ T^^.than K. Prickett. Ser^t. 3, 1830; died Mav 2. 1913. J 

46. Sarah J., w^fe of A. M. Heath, 1817: died A^ril 6, 1884. I 

47. Hudson J. L-^rine. 1831; died A^ril 19, 1889. ^ 

48. David Arthnrhults. Dec 16. 18'?6; died May 13. 1894. '' 

49. Harriet, wife of -T. O. Bpchtel, March 10, 1812; dipd April 2, 1873 

50. Susan, w'fe of Geors-e Ravnholt^. 1837; dipd Anril 3. 1863. 

51. Sarah, wife of I. R-vnholtz. 1812: died .Tpn 17, 1881. I 
.^?. T-aac R-ynholtz, 1808: died March 29, 1862. 

T-'i. W. W. T.orino-. 182Q: died Dec. 9- 18^f>. 

r4. James Hesi-ill. 1832; died Jan. 22. 1858. 

5^^. Catharine. wif« of A. W. MiUpr. 1822: Hied March 4. 1897. \ 

r-P. .Tiilian, daughter of T. and M. Benson, 1835; died Nov. 2. 1850. I 

F7. Nancy, daup-hter of T. and M. Benson, 1834: died June 9 1850. \ 

58. .'^"arah. wife of James B. Marck. 18?^4: died A^ril 16. 1888. I 

P^ Diantha. wifp ^f C J. S-nitl-. 1812: di^d Feb. 11, 1880. 

rn. Calvin J. Smith. 1806; di^d May 20, 1894. \ 

61. Amos Smith, 1839: d'ed N-^v. l'^, 1852. i 

62. Mary, wife of James Rhonds, 1824; died March 7, 1849. ; 

I*. ; 



THRAHKILL CFMETFFY 
On*»-hr-If nrile south of Mfer. 

1. R-hen Clanin, March 1, 1816; died July 9. 1897. 

2. V/illiam Gown. May 14, 1826; die-l Feb. 24, 1904. 

3. Elizabeth, wife of Wm. Gown, 1830-1886. 

4. Jackson Snencer, Nov. 20. 1819; died Nov. 22, 1881. 

5. Erniamin Harden, Feb. 20, 1819; dipd Oct. 3. 1871. 

6. Willis Zirkle, Jan. 1, 1831; died Feb. 14, 1881. 



7. Amanda, wife of Willis Zirkle, Sept. 1, 1836; died July 27, 1915. 

8. Noah M. Spancler, 1837-1919. 

9. John Pearson, 1830-1913. 

10. David Barton, born 1825; died Nov. 28, 1901. 

11. Eliza Davis, 1831-1907. 

12. Aerritt Williams, 1820-1903. 

13. Elizabeth, wife of Aerritt Williams, Aug. 4, 1824; died Aug. 30, 
1918. I 

14. Rev. Francis Smith, Dec. 19, 1821; died Oct. 5, 1909. 

15. Elizabeth, wife of Francis Smith, Feb. 26, 1826; died March 17, I 
1902. I 

16. James P. Collins, 1823-1894. j 

17. Martha Ann, wife of James P. Collins, 1826-1907. ; 

18. Sarah J. Braffet, 1830-1909. 

19. S. Thrailkill, March 4, 1832; died Oct. 6, 1901. ' 

20. M. C, wife of S. Thrailkill, July 18, 1832; died Feb. 8, 1898. 1 

21. Catharine, wife of Nathanial West, Dec. 20, 1829; died Apri'. S, i 
1899. I 

22. John T. Morgan, Feb. 7, 1819; died Feb. 28, 1898. I 

23. Delilah Miller, Nov. 20, 1834; died June 12, 1908. 

24. Martin Miller, Oct. 20, 1820; died April 23, 1902. 

25. Nancy A. Lillard, 1840-1918. 

26. Grief Matthews, 1830; died Jan. 22, 1903. 

27. Elias Burns, June 8. 1821; died May 28, 1909. ! 

28. Minerva J., wife of E. Marks, May 13. 1824; died July 28, 1899. 

29. Daniel Landis, 1830; died March il, 1861. " s 

30. Massey, wife of Francis Smith, 1785; died Sept. 11, 1855. i 

31. Francis Smith. 1781; died April 6, 1865. 

32. Euphemia, wife of Azor Bagley, 1809; died Jan. 10, 1857. 

33. Ruth, wife of John Snider, June 23. 1816; died March 28, 1885. 

34. Joohn B. Jumper, born 1826; died Nov. 21, 1855. 

35. Margaret, wife of John Coffman, 1803; died Aug. 28, 1877. 

36. Nancy Goodrick, 1821; died Feb. 22. 1864. i 

37. Mary, wife of John Parker, 1869; died Sept. 4. 1899. 

38. Mary E., wife of N. G. Barngrover, 1839; dipd May 3, 1866. 

39. Solomon Barngrover, 1810; dipd Aug. 14. 1876. 

40. Stephen Hayden, 1817; died Oct. 28, 1868. 

41. Mary A. Hayden, 1818; died Nov. 23, 1836. 

42. Mary Parker, wife of John Parker, 1792; died Sept. 4, 1869. 

43. Michael L. Wilson, 1818; died May 7, 1862. 

44. Julia A. Skinner. 1818; died Aug. 20, 1892. i 

45. Wm. A. Retherford, Jan. 19, 1837; died June 19, 1907. I 

46. Elizabeth, wife of Wm. Galbreath, 1838; died Sept. 2, 1862. 

47. Mathew Tavlor, 1827-1916. ' 

48. Catherine Taylor, 1836-1911. I 

49. John Clair, Nov. 12. 1836; die'l Nov. 25, 1876. 

50. George W. Miller, Serit. 18, 1829; died Jan. 27, 1909. 

51. Purnel Peters, 1813: died Aug. 3. 1884. 

52. Cyrus Nesbitt, 1825; died Jan. 1917. 

*. 

WEWER CEMETERY 
This old cem.etery is the burial place of the colored t)pot)le. It is about ' 
.seven miles southwest of Marion. ne?r the little town of Weaver. 

M^tildq Weaver born 1820. . 

Julia Fountain, born 1824. 

Jane Daniels Burdrn, born 1818. 

George Robinson, born 1812. ' | 

Mary E. Burden, born 1823. j 

Halianda Weaver, born 1838. i 

Robert Green, born 1789. ' 

Squire Young, born 1817. 

Mpry E. Young, born 1823. - ; 

James Pulley, born 1804. i 

Benjamin Peters, born 1824. 
Another cemetery for colored people is located in a field about a mile I 



and a quarter northwest of the Weaver cemetery. There was formerly a 
little Baptist church located near the cemetery but it has fallen to decay. 
There is but one aged negro yet living who attended this church, Nathan 
Jones. The inscriptions sre almost obliterated on the old stones. 

Jerry Schucreft. born 1770. 

William Jones, born 1759. 

Charles Jones, born 1821. 



REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIERS BURIED IN GRANT COUNTY 



Isaac Sudeth, buried in the old Bethel cemetery three miles up the 
river from Jonesboro, at Wilson's ford. The stone records: 
ISAAC SUDETH. 
OLD REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER, 
AGED 99. 
Barnabas Vandeventer, Revolutionary soldier, aged 103 years, 9 months 
and 10 days. Buried in the abandoned Friends' cemetery on the Paxton 
farm, two miles east of the Soldiers' Home. 

James Campbell, Revolutionary soldier, age 96 years. Buried in Maple 
Grove cemetery (sometimes called the Raypholtz cemetery), two miles 
north of Sweetser. 



County Song ; 

Dear old Grant County, | 

I love you. 

Finest county in the State, ■ 

Everything right up to date; \ 
O, but I do think you'r greati 
Dear old Grant County, 

I love you. I 

Dear old Grant County, 

Hove you; j 

You have mothered noble sons j 

Van de Vanter,— others come, ' 

Steele and "Joaquin"— Some big guns i 

Dear old Grant County, j 

I love you 

I 

Dear Old Grant County, j 

I love you; j 

Here's a tribute to your wealth, j 

Here's a prayer for your good health; ] 

Here's a challenge into death! | 

Dear Old Grant County, ■ 

I love you. j 

Words by Cora Straughan j 
Music by Melody Class, M. H. S. 



3141