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Short Sketches of the Lanphear 
AND Potter Families 


Author of " Life, Travels, and Observations of Eighty Years, 
and "Observations of Religious Practices and Preach- 
ing of Eighty-one Years." 




I WAS born in Westerly, R. I., March 2, 
1818. My parents were Samuel and Hannah 
Lanphear. We moved with an ox team and 
sheet-covered wagon from Potters Hill, R. L, 
to Alfred, Allegany Co., N. Y. The country 
was mostly wilderness after crossing the Hud- 
son River at Albany until we reached the end 
of our journey, five hundred miles. My parents 
then had three children, all boys, myself the 
youngest. My mother^s sister and her hus- 
band, Amos Crandall, took passage with us, 
the goods of both families being on the same 
wagon. We worked our way through the 
wilderness to Alfred in about eighteen or 
twenty days, camping out nights, or sleeping in 
the wagon, when we could not find logs huts to 
cover our heads. Then there was not a frame 
building in that town. The earliest settlers 
nearly all lived in logs huts or shanties. It 
was a wild country, and the settlers had to 
meet hard fare, barely living on wild game and 
wild fruit. But the people were industrious, 
soon cut away the timber, and in a few years 


were raising grain for themselves, and were able 
to aid the new settlers as they arrived. 

Soon the settlers organized a society for 
worship, and for a time held meetings from 
house to house, or in log schoolhouses, until 
they were able to build a meeting-house. I 
was brought up to attend church and read the 
Bible. The preaching was very plain. I 
remember the first sermon I heard. The 
preacher had no shoes to his feet, or coat to 
his back, yet revivals followed his preaching. 
Let me say right here that my father and 
another man by the name of David Stillman 
put their heads together and talked it over 
that the preacher ought to have some shoes. 
So after meeting, my father stepped out to the 
door, picked up a stick, and walking along by 
the side of the preacher, took up his foot and 
measured it. The next Sabbath the preacher 
had some shoes. Possibly one half of the 
men, and some of the women, came to church 
barefooted. I remember I went to church 
barefooted in warm weather until I was sixteen 
years old. 

As I grew to manhood, I observed that as 
the preachers became more educated, they 
began to preach new doctrines, as I thought, 
and contrary to the Bible. I concluded that 


merely reading the Bible was not satisfactory, 
and concluded to study the Bible for myself. 

As I grew older, I became interested in 
travel, and have traveled in all the States but 
one or two, and have crossed the United States 
by the four different routes. I made it a practice 
to attend church of some sort nearly every 
week. In this way I heard many doctrines. 
The more I heard, the more interested I be- 
came in studying the Bible. These things 
caused me to write up a book, when I was 
eighty years of age, on " Observations and 
Travels of Eighty Years;" and then again, 
becoming eighty- one years, another book of 
''Observation of Religious Practices and 
Preaching of Eighty-one Years," etc. ; and 
now that the good Lord has allowed me to live 
to see eighty-two years, and my memory pretty 
clear, and my eyes allowing me to read and 
write without glasses, by request I have con- 
cluded to write up this book, the " Happenings 
and Observation of Eighty-two Years," and to 
give a short sketch of the Lanphear and Potter 
families, and more specifically on my life and 
travels. Ethan Lanphear. 

Plainfield, N. J., April, 1900. 



I. Early Recollections 
II. In Our New Home in the Wilder- 

III. At Our New Home Yet , 

IV. A Journey to the City of Roches- 

ter, N. Y 

V. Embark in the Grist and Flour 
Milling Business . . . . 
VI. A Trip to Rhode Island, My Na- 
tive Birthplace .... 
VII. In Rhode Island, the Smallest 

State in the Union 
VIII. From Rhode Island Back to Al 
FRED, Our Home, Again 
IX. At Our Business Again . 
X! Fairly Settled for the Time 
XI. On Board the " St. Louis " for the 

City of St. Louis . 
XII. On Our Journey up the Illinois 

XIII. On the Boat for the Mouth of the 

Spoon River and for Lewiston 

XIV. From Lewiston, III., to Wiscon 


XV. Now IN Wisconsin . 
XVI. At Alfred, the Home of My Boy 


XVII. A Trip through New York State 

XVIII. A Visit to Wisconsin 

XIX. I Leave for Milton, Wis. 

XX. I Leave Washington for the East 














XXI. Home Again .... 
XXII. Traveling IN Canada 

XXIII. A Trip to Wisconsin to Attend a 

General. Conference . 

XXIV. We Go up to Minneapolis Falls 
XXV. The Politics of Our Country Get 

ting into Bad Shape 
XXVI. To Kansas by Way of St. Louis, 


XXVII. At Leavenworth, Kan. . 
XXVIII. Leave Lawrence, Kan., for Jef- 
ferson City, Mo., the Capital 
of the State 
XXIX. At Jefferson City . 
XXX. At Home Again 
XX XL Volunteering of My X^eighbors 
XXXII. The Eighty-Fifth All Taken 
Prisoners .... 

XXXIII. The Rebel Prison at Anderson 


XXXIV. My Second Marriage 
XXXV. A Sad Journey for Me . 

XXXVI. A Chapter from My Scrapbook 
XXXVII. A Short Excursion in the Fall of 


XXXVIII. Customs in the Southern States 
XXXIX. A Continuation of the Customs of 
the Slave States 
XL. A Short Chapter for the Gambler 
XLI. A Little Journey East . 
XLII. An Excursion to the Thousand Is 
lands, Montreal, Quebec, Etc 
XLIII. On Our Way to Montreal 
XLIV. On Our Journey to the White 



XLV. In Portland, Maine 
XLYI. Now FOR A Trip across the Conti 

NENT .... 

XLVII. On Our Journey to Kansas 
XLVIII. In Denver, Colorado 
XLIX. From Denver to Salt Lake . 
L. In Salt Lake City . 
LI. In the City of San Francisco 
LII. From San Francisco to Portland 
ABOUT Seven Hundred Miles by 


LIII. In Portland, Oregon 


LV. At the Great National Park 
LVI. Off for Minneapolis and St. Paul 
LVII. In Minneapolis, Minn. 
LVIII. Saratoga, Lake Champlain, Mon 


LIX. A Chapter from Our Notebook 
LX. Over the Hills in the Oil Regions 
LXI. Our Second Trip to California 
LXH. At Jacksonville 
LXIII. In New Orleans, La. 
LXIV. On Our Way to El Paso . 
LXY. At El Paso, Texas . 
LXVI. On Our Way from El Paso to Los 

Angeles, Cal. 
LXVII. In Los Angeles, Cal. 
LXVIII. In San Francisco Again . 
LXIX. On the Central Pacific . 
LXX. At Dodge City, Kansas . 
LXXI. At Nortonville, Kansas 
LXXII. Observations in States and Na 


LXXIII, Our Great and Small Cities . . 359 
LXXIV, An Essay by Sister Harriet A. 

Lanphear Babcock . . . 365 
LXXV. A Chapter on the Lanphears . 369 
LXXVI. A Chapter on the Potters . . 375 
LXXYII. My Relation to the Seventh-day 

Baptists 383 

LXX VIII. Acquaintance and Observations of 

THE Seventh-day Adventists . 388 
LXXIX. A Pleasant Journey to Lost 
Creek, W. Va., to Attend a 
General Conference of Sev- 
enth-day Baptists . . . 395 
LXXX. Christ's Religion and the War 

Spirit of Our Land . . . 398 
LXXXI. The War Spirit of the World . 401 
LXXXII. Educating Our Boys and Young 

Men for War .... 404 
LXXXIII. "Train up a Child in the Yv ay He 
Should Go : and When He Is Old 
He Will Not Depart from It" 406 
LXXXIY. Nature and Art the Beauty of 

the World 409 

LXXXY. The World's Fair at Chicago . 415 

LXXXYI. Now for Sight-seeing . . . 417 

LXXXYII. Our Last Week at the Fair . . 420 

LXXXYIII. Learn to Govern Yourself . . 423 

LXXXIX. Lead Us Not into Temptation . 425 

XC. The Wickedness of the Drink 

Traffic in Our Country . . 427 
XCI. Owe No Man Anything . . . 432 
XCII. Be Not Unequally Yoked To- 
gether WITH Unbelievers . . 437 
XCIII. Church and State .... 439 
XCIV. War and Great Confusion in the 

World 441 


XCV. Estimate of the Cost of One Sa- 
loon IN the City of Plainfield 443 
XCVI. Profession without Possession . 445 
XCVII. "The Fool Hath Said in His 

Heart, There Is No God" . 448 
XCVni. God Will Be Just, for He Doeth 

All Things Well .... 452 
XCIX. Abstain from All Appearance of 

Evil 454 

C. Sign the Pledge .... 456 
CI. To Young Men and Girls : Start 
Right, Do Right, and Keep 
Right, and You Will Come 
Out Right. 458 

CII. A Chapter of My Own Life . . 462 


Portrait of Author, .... Frontisinece 

Father and Mother, 12 

Myself and First Wife, 52 

Nathan Lanphear, 155 

Ethan Lanphear and Present Wife, . . 169 

Lucy P. Lanphear Maxson, .... 200 

Lachine Rapids, St. Lawrence River, . . 206 

Baptiste, the Indian Pilot, .... 209 

A. JuDSON Hall and Family, .... 300 

Harriet A. Lanphear Babcock, . . . 364 

Dr. Emory Lanphear, 380 

Children of Ethan L. Wadsworth, . . . 414 

Mrs. Mary R. Lanphear Wright, . . . 433 

The Children of Layinxa P. Lanphear Willard, 449 

Ethan Lanphear and His Present Wife . . 463 



My first journey was with my })arents, when 
a child not yet two years old, from Rhode 
Island to Alfred, Allegany Co., N. Y,, five hun- 
dred miles, of which 1 have but little recollec- 
tion. They made this journey with an ox team, 
and a big wagon covered with white cotton 
cloth, which in the western part of our country 
would be called a schooner, such as we used to 
see crossing our western prairies. My parents 
then had three boys, myself being the youngest. 
Their names were as follows: Emory, Avery, and 
Ethan. Amos Crandall and his wife, Cynthia, 
sister to my mother, made the journey with us. 
The goods of both families were on the same 

My father and Uncle Amos made the journey 
to Alfred on foot before they moved, selected 
their land, and put up log huts on each lot. 
My father's hut had a roof made of split wood 
resembling barrel staves before they are dressed. 
The}^ were tied on by withes, the bark of trees, 
or small staddles of trees. There was not a 
frame building then in the town, and but few 



settlers. They cut a place for a door through the 
logs, laid a floor of split basswood logs flat side 
up, leaving an offset to build a chimney at one 
end sometime. The gables were not closed, as 
they had no boards made in the town. They 
then decided to go back for their families. Be- 
fore they arrived, my father's house at Potter's 
Hill was destroyed by fire, and nearly all his 
household goods. But this daunted him not. 
He bought a good pair of oxen and a wagon, 
having the oxen shod. He attached hold-back 
straps to the yoke, to make it easier for the oxen 
to hold the load going down the many hills, and 
to keep their heads and necks from getting sore. 
Loading on their goods, they started on their 
wilderness journey of five hundred miles. As 
they started out, their friends followed them for 
miles, never expecting to see them again; but 
they finally shook hands, said good-by, and re- 
turned to their homes among the rocks of Rhode 
Island. They pushed on by way of Albany. 
The State of New York had opened a road 
through the State from Albany to Olean Point 
on the Allegany River, in order to make a way 
for settlers to be taken into the wilderness coun- 
try. This was called a turnpike, or State road; 
gates were placed across the road, and people 
had to pay toll, the object of which was to keep 


the road passable. The country was sparsely 
settled through to the Lakes where Buffalo City 
DOW exists. My father had a half-brother and 
a half-sister older than himself, who had settled 
in Brookfield, Madison County, a few years 
before. They stopped there a few days to rest 
a little; then pushed on their journey, some- 
times camping out nights, or sleeping in our 
wagons when they could not reach a settlement. 
They usually had feed for the team and provi- 
sions for the families in case they could not ob- 
tain them among settlers. All kept healthy. 
Their team proved good roadsters, and took us 
through in eighteen or twenty days. We 
stopped a few days with a settler about one 
mile away, so that the men might fix up and 
inclose father's house, in order to protect us 
from storm and wild beasts. We moved in 
all together for a time. My father and uncle 
always worked together like two brothers, help- 
ing each other, and their friendship continued 
as long as they lived. 



The men, and the women also, set to work 
to clearing up about their huts, chinking and 
mudding up the cracks, to make them warmer, 
as cold weather was drawing on. Thej rigged 
up a cart with the hind wheels of the wagon, 
hitched the oxen to it, drove fifteen miles to 
what is now Wellsville, and purchased some 
boards; they placed some slabs, — one end on 
the cart and the other end on the ground, — 
piled the lumber thereon, bound it with chains 
to the cart, and thus dragged their burden over 
roots, mud, and swamp to their homes to close 
up their gables, to make themselves tables and 
shelves in their log houses, and doors to them. 
At this stage of life and age mj memory largely 
begins. I remember our first meal eaten in the 
new house. We had no chimney yet, gables 
to the house were all open, a quilt was hung up 
for the door. A fire was built on the ground, 
where my mother cooked the first meal. They 
had picked up a new board on the way some- 
where, which was placed across the offset left 
for the chimney, and all sat down on the floor 


with their feet on the ground before the fire 
Thu8 we ate our first meal. Young as I was, 
it seems as plain before me now as then, — 
the quilt door, and the smoke passing up and 
out of tlie open gable, the new board before the 
fire, etc. Never were two families happier in 
their new homes than were ours at that time. 

My father and uncle were very industrious, 
and their wives were not afraid to take a hand 
with them. My father had learned the tailor's 
trade in his early days. There was not a tailor 
within fifty miles. When it was found out, a 
man fifteen miles away in a settlement sent 
word for him as soon as he got settled, to take 
his shears and goods, and come down and help 
the women of the settlement clothe up the fam- 
ilies for winter. 

After a few weeks they got things comfoi'ta- 
bly fixed. Uncle took charge of both families, 
and father, on foot, started to find his neighbors 
fifteen miles away on the Canisteo River, five 
miles east of Hornellsville, Steuben County. 
He stopped with them about three weeks. In 
that time he paid for a cow, four sheep, a pair 
of geese, and two shotes. He came home, and 
got his team, and a man to go with him, and 
brought home his earnings, stopping at Horn- 
ells Mill, to have his grain ground. A man by 


the name of Hornells built the first grist mill 
in that section, from which the town took its 

My father built a pen of small logs near our 
house, and put his shotes in, cutting a door for 
them to go out and in, so that they could get 
their living on nuts in the woods in the day- 
time, and return to their pen at night for 
lodging. Not long after this we heard an awful 
squealing of one of the pigs in the night. My 
father and elder brother got up as quickly as 
possible, lit a lantern, and ran out hallooing 
as loud as they could. The pig finally stopped 
crying, and they hurried into the house lest 
they might have a cause for crying. When 
light came, they went out to explore the situa- 
tion. They found the pig back in his pen. It 
seems that a bear had climbed into the pen, and 
took one of the pigs under his arm, and started 
for the woods. How he happened to drop his 
prey we know not ; whether he was scared or 
whether he let him drop climbing over a high 
bush and log fence the men had built to keep 
the cattle away from the house. 

Not many days after this happened, some of 
the neighboring settlers called as they were on 
their way to see some settlers that lived some 
two miles another way. Men traveled on foot 


or horseback largely by foot paths and marked 
trees from neighborhood to neighborhood. 
They had a large dog with them. On their 
way the dog ran a young bear into a large 
hollow tree, and he decided not to come out. 
Two of the men went back to a settler that they 
knew had a rifle, and bad him come with his 
rifle and ax. As the bear would not come out, 
they cut the tree down; but he would not come 
out of his hiding. The dog would go in, but 
the bear would drive him out quickly. They 
finally shot him in the tree, and then cut a 
large hole, and dragged him out. He was a 
young one, and his meat made a good treat for 
the neighborhood. Wild game was plenty 
then, and was a great help to the settlers until 
they got to raising tame stock. Wild fruit was 
a great blessing also. Neighbors then were 
neighbors indeed. If one killed a deer, bear, 
or other game, or had a good thing, all shared 



My father's trade was a great help to him. 
When people learned that he was a tailor, they 
would come for forty miles to get clothes cut 
and made; some would bring their cloth there 
and leave it, and when they wanted clothes cut 
or made, they would come and leave their 
measure, or w^ait for the work to be done. 
Sometimes he would say to men: "If you 
want your work done, you must go right to 
work chopping and clearing land for me, and I 
will do your work." He was a small man and 
very quick with the needle. In this way he 
would make one day of his own pay for two or 
three outside. In this way he soon got his 
farm cleared, so as to raise his own living, and 
have produce to furnish new settlers. 

The settlers were early from New England, 
and usually poor, but industrious and good 
citizens, and largely Seventh-day Baptists that 
settled in Alfred. They soon organized meet- 
ings to be held from house to house in neigh- 
borhoods, and soon they established schools, 
kept in log schoolhouses, and held meetings 


in the same. I well remember my first day in 
school; I sat on a little stool by the side of a 
lady teacher by the name of Thankful Odall. 
The seats were all made of split basswood logs, 
the flat side up, with legs at each end; and the 
writing tables were made of slabs fastened on 
to large pegs driven into the logs of the build- 
ing. I remember the first sermon I heard 
preached. It was in a schoolhouse about two 
miles away. The minister's name was Richard 
Hull, and he had no coat to his back or shoes 
to his feet, and could scarcely read or write; 
yet people came from miles away to hear him 
preach. He raised five sons, and four of them 
made preachers, and one daughter preached 

I was graduated at sixteen in a frame school- 
house. I never studied grammar a day in my 
life, nor ever saw a blackboard in a school- 
house, nor did the teachers demonstrate any- 
thing in mathematics. 1 studied old Daball's 
arithmetic through twice, yet my teachers never 
explained the rules therein. We had to prove 
everything, or let it pass, yet when I came to 
doing business for myself I found that many 
of those rules were just the things to use. Most 
of our teachers were farmers or farmers' sons, 
and usually taught for $10 to $15 a month and 


boarded themselves or boarded around the 
district. We used to have spelling schools and 
geography schools in various districts, which 
were of great value in those lines of studies; 
and really I think I learned more in those lines 
than in the day schools. 

In about six years after we settled in Alfred, 
my Grandfather Potter, my mother's father, 
moved to Alfred. He came with a horse team. 
Instead of having a box on his wagon he had 
fitted a sailboat on it, for novelty. He had a 
family of three sons, and his wife, and his 
wife's mother. They settled some two miles 
away from us; but to get there with the team 
they had to pick their way some three or four 
miles. They could, however, follow a foot 
path by marked trees on foot or horseback, 
which was much nearer. They left my great- 
grandmother with us for a time until they could 
get settled. After a time my Grandmother 
Potter came on horseback to take her mother 
home with her. 

I was very fond of my grandmother and 
great-grandmother, and they were fond of me, 
80 I took a notion to go home with them. I 
thought I could go afoot, and keep up with the 
horse through the woods. But they said I could 
"ride on the horse with them." They had a 


sidesaddle on the horse and a pillow behind 
that. My grandmother took the sidesaddle, 
and my great-grandmother the pillow behind 
her, and I was astride the horse in front. Thus 
I made the short journey with my grandmother 
and great-grandmother. 

By this time immigration had increased, and 
nearly all the lands in the town were entered, 
and neighbors were more plenty. My father 
had his farm nearly cleared up, had built 
him a frame barn, and in a few years built him 
a frame house, and kept quite a large stock. 
He had purchased a young colt, paying for it 
with his shears and needle a few years before, 
which was now broken to saddle and hames, 
and father and mother drove on a visit to 
their old home in Rhode Island. They re- 
turned, having had a good visit. His success 
encouraged many others to emigrate. Several 
families came on and settled in Cuba, now 
Little Genesee, some thirty miles farther west. 
Some of them were cousins of my parents. 
After they got settled in their log huts, father 
and mother decided to go and see them, and took 
me along, leaving the rest of the children at 
home with a housekeeper. It was some thirty 
or thirty-five miles, and the roads were very 
rough and muddy, and if a boy was ever well 


shaken up riding over corduroy roads and roots, 
it was I, for I had to sit on the bottom of the 
wagon, without springs. We liad to drive 
through a long wood without settlers, to get 
over to the Genesee River, then again between 
Friendship and Boliver. Before we got to 
Boliver, a little, young deer cam e into the 
road, and followed along w^th us for some time. 
That took my attention, and I finally got through 
to our friends. We stopped first with a cousin 
of my mother, Joseph Wells, that lived in a log 
cabin near where the village now exists, on the 
main road to what is now called the Osway 

Ezekiel Crandall, his brother-in-law, lived 
in a log house across the stream nearly a half 
mile away. Between them was a dense hem- 
lock woods, and many large trees had blown 
down, and piled on top of each other, so that 
they crossed the stream on foot on these big 
trees, and had a footpath to pass back and forth 
between the two homes. It was very dark any 
time of day in crossing among the thick hem- 
locks. To get from one house to the other with 
a team, they had to go a mile or more to cross 
the stream and get through the timber. I tell 
this story to show the novelty of it. Mr. Wells 
had four boys, the youngest about my age. 


The three youngest were going over to their 
Uncle EzekiePs by the way of this footpath 
among the hemlocks. The oldest one was about 
fourteen years old. He said to his parents he 
would take the gun along, so that if they saw 
anything they would shoot it. As they were 
going over the stream on these big trees, three 
deer sprang to their feet just in front of them. 
The boys had not met any deer yet in close 
contact. The deer stood still and looked directly 
at the boys, and the boys looked at them. The 
deer's eyes looked very large in the darkness to 
the boys, who doubtless were a little excited; 
but the older one with the gun drew his gun 
upon one and banged away at him, bringing 
him to the ground, while the others ran out of 
sight. The younger boy ran as hard as he 
could for the house, calling as loud as he could, 
" Uncle Ezekiel! Uncle Ezekiel! Come out here 
quick! Daniel has shot a deer right down dead; 
it has eyes as big as a saucer, and we want you 
to help kill him." This story was never for- 
gotten, and the boy was often reminded of it 
as long as he lived, and he only died a short 
time ago. 

This town was largely settled by Khode 
Islanders, so much so tliat it was called for 
a long time Little Rhode Island. The people 


of Alfred and this town were largely related, 
and many were Sabbath-keepers, who kept up 
the habit of visiting each other as long as the 
old settlers lived. They were a good, moral 
people, and I think there was never a liquor 
license granted in the town; and I think there 
has not been one granted in Alfred in over fifty 
years. My next visit to that town was on 
horseback. My next older brother and I rode 
on one horse over thirty miles, for the sake of 
visiting the people and friends. 



My parents raised ten children, four boys 
and six girls. All were taught to work. Only 
three girls and two boys are now living, myself 
being the oldest. My father was a great lover 
of children, and my mother was a strictly Bible 
Christian, as she understood it. My father 
believed in teaching children to work, and he 
thought it best to make them interested in every- 
thing on the farm. In order to do this he 
would give us a patch of ground to work for 
ourselves, and to work at our leisure time, and 
have all we could raise to sell for ourselves, 
and he would tell us boys to take good care of 
the stock, and when we saved money enough to 
purchase a lamb, calf, or colt, we might pur- 
chase, and put it in with his as our own, and 
have the money it sold for. He always tried 
to make his children believe that they could 
make smart men, and praised them when they 
did well. Sometimes he would send them to 
do business, and would confer with them as to 
the real value of cattle and things. He used 
to say to us boys : " When we get the crops in 


and the sheep washed and sheared, you shall 
hav^e a plaj-day to go fishing or hunting." If 
we had an offer to go and work a day or two 
for some neighbor, we could do so and have 
our wages. He taught us economy, and not to 
spend money foolishly, or for that which was 
not useful. 

When I was about fourteen years old, he said 
to us, and my mother's younger brother, who 
was about the age of my oldest brother, that if 
we would be good boys, after the spring's work 
was finished we might go to Rochester city, 
seventy miles away, and see the city and 
country, and have a good time. I had never 
seen a city, and we all thought that would be a 
big thing to do. In time we rigged up two 
horses and wagons for the trip. Of course, 
our rigs would not compare very well with car- 
riages of to-day; but they were as good as the 
average in a new country. We started out, 
and the first day we drove by the way of Dans- 
ville, and made about fifty miles, stopping over- 
night near Mt. Morris. 

The hotel was crowded with travelers, and 
they had to stow us away pretty thick, some 
having to lodge on the floor. We did not get 
the best of rest, as there were some rather jolly 
fellows in the crowd that would talk and tell 


stories; and then we found that our beds were 
infested with travelers that depended on get- 
ting their living out of the traveling public. 
But we stood it through the night, and in 
the morning there was some loud talking 
about our traveling bedfellows. I think they 
were great travelers, for I have now and then 
found them settled in^ nearly every, country I 
have traveled in. We got our breakfast, fed 
our horses, and started for the city, about twenty 
miles away. The weather was fine, and vegeta- 
tion was beautiful in its new growth. We 
arrived at a hotel a little out of the city about 
eleven o'clock. We made arrangements to 
stop there nights, put our horses out to pasture 
a little up the river, took our dinners, and 
started for sight-seeing in the city. Rochester 
is situated on both sides of the Genesee River, 
at or just above the Genesee Falls, where Sam 
Patch made his last jump. These falls I think 
are some five feet higher than Niagara Falls, 
located on the Niagara River some ten miles 
from Bafialo. Patch had jumped the Roch- 
ester falls once before, and came out safely; he 
had jumped Niagara once, and came out safely. 
But when he jumped his last jump at Rochester, 
he was drunk, and said it was to be his last 
jump, and it proved to be so. He never was 


seen, I think, after he struck the swirl below- 
A part of the scaffold from which he jumped 
still remained in sight where visitors could see 
where the foolish man made his last leap into 

These falls, both Niagara and the Rochester, 
are some of the grand scenery of America, and 
thousands of people from other countries as 
well as our own visit them. There seems to be 
a charm to seethe falls, and hundreds of insane 
and gloomy people resort there to end their 
lives. We took in the city and surroundings, 
and enjoyed them much. 

One thing I saw I shall never forget. A 
large stone grist and flouring mill, three stories 
high, had lately been built, bordering on the 
river above the falls; the river was all rock bot- 
tom. One of the masons while at work on the 
third story on the end next to the river, made 
a misstep, and fell to the bottom, striking in 
the river where the water was only twelve 
or fifteen inches deep on the rock. He was not 
hurt, only well shaken up. The owner of the 
mill ordered a stone to be left out of the wall 
where he fell from; and the spot is to be seen, 
I presume, to this day, to show the place of the 
miraculous fall without death. 

We returned by way ot Conesus Lake, and 


stopped at a hotel, hired a row boat, and rowed 
one mile across and back. We then went home, 
thinking we had had a great treat that but few 
bojs at our age of life enjoyed. We had some 
marvelous stories to tell when we arrived home. 



During 1836 aod 1837 my father built a grist 
and flouring mill that cost him about S2,000. 
He was not a miller, so he took in an old 
miller to run it on shares, and to have one-third 
of the income. It proved to be a valuable 
investment. In the fall that I was nineteen I 
went to live with the miller, with the intention 
of learning how to run the mill. I remained 
six months, then went home to help my father 
on the farm. I had made so good progress that 
the old miller sent word to me to come down 
and see him. I went, and he said that he 
wished to hire me until his term expired in the 
fall. He said he would pay me S13 a month, 
and my board. I told him I would go if I 
could arrange it with my father. 

I went home, and told my father of the offer 
that the old miller had made me. He said: — 

" If you can hire Philip Green to take your 

place on the farm, you can go." I went to see 

Philip. We were the same age, and had been 

brought up togethei- in the same neighborhood. 



He said he would work in my place od the farm 
for 812 a month. The bargain was closed, and 
I returned to the mill, and felt pleased, as I was 
going to save one dollar a month for myself. 
I liked the business. I was rather a natural 
mechanic, and at the end of six months the old 
miller said to my father, " Ethan can run that 
mill just as well as I can myself." 

My father had promised me one winter's 
schooling before I was twenty-one years of age; 
but now he said, ''If you will stay in the mill 
this winter until you are of age in the spring, 
I will allow you one fourth of the earnings of 
the mill, and after that one third." I accepted 
his offer, but lost my winter's schooling. I parti- 
tioned off a room, and put a bed in it, and lived 
there alone through the winter. I was young 
and ambitious, and desired to please all my 
customers, working hard, and sacrificing many 
pleasures that young people enjoy. I was 
bound to make my business a success, and I 
gained the confidence of the people. That 
winter was one of much thought and medita- 
tion. I had not made an open profession of 
religion up to this time; but had been trained 
by my parents in good morals, and to respect 
Christians, and to deal honestly with all men. 

That winter a revival meeting was held in 


the community, and I arranged my business to 
attend more or less, and finally decided to start 
in the service of Christ, by a public profession. 
I invited my friend Philip Green to go home 
with me, and stay all night. We had the whole 
mill to ourselves, and we talked over our lives, 
and really thought that we were sinners. We 
talked and prayed together, and decided that, 
as we were starting in life for ourselves, we 
would first seek the kingdom of heaven and 
God's righteousness, and trust in him for what 
we needed; that we would be honest with God 
and with our fellow men, and take our Saviour 
for our example. 

Philip is living yet, and we are both in our 
eighty-second year. Each of us has always 
paid his debts, dollar for dollar, and God has 
blessed us both in a long life of religion, and 
temperance habits in the good things of life, 
and total abstinence from all intoxicants and 
the things which are evil, as nearly as possible. 
Our success has been such that I would recom- 
mend to all young people starting out in life to 
seek first the kingdom of heaven, and God will 
add all blessings that are necessary. 

When I was twenty-one, I had saved up about 
three hundred dollars. This was a great help 
to me, as I could purchase grain to keep for 



market, above the toll taken for grinding. Soon 
I gained capital enough to keep a heavy stock 
of grain on hand, often keeping teams running 
north to the better corn and wheat country, to 
supply the surrounding lumber country. I had 
customers twenty to thirty miles away come and 
purchase by the load. 

We had a cold season about this time, and 
the crops were cut short through the southern 
part of New York State and northern Pennsyl- 
vania, and for a time wheat was S3 a bushel; 
corn, .^2; buckwheat. Si. 50, and everything in 
proportion. This made it very hard for the 
poor. People would come from a long dis- 
tance. They would scrape together a little 
buckwheat, barley, oats, and some would put in 
beans, and tell me to "grind it all into flour, 
anything to stop hunger.'' Some brought 
dried pumpkin, broken up fine enough to feed 
into the stone to grind. This made beautiful 
yellow flour to make pies, and mix in with other 
flour or meal. But few will now remember 
what a pinching time it was, especially with the 
very poor. I presume I ground over thousands 
of bushels of wheat bran into flour; that made 
healthful bread and came cheap. People would 
make maple sugar, and bring it to me to 
exchange for something to make bread, and 


would sell it from four to six cents a pound, so 
that I was really overstocked with sugar. I 
used to send teams to trade it off among the 
farmers north in the better grain country, in 
Genesee County, and as far north as Geneseo, 
Dansville, and the lake country. Such a time 
I never experienced before or since in that sec- 
tion of the country. When I hear of the hard 
times in the new countries from drought and 
grasshoppers, I think of the suffering in my 
own county in my earlier days. 



In 1840 I decided to visit New England. 
The year before, David Rogers, George Irish, 
and Oliver Babcock drove a double team to Alle- 
gany to visit their friends. My next oldest sister 
desired to go to Westerly, R. I., to learn the 
milliner^s trade with Mrs. Horatio Berry. As 
these men had one vacant seat, they offered to 
take her with them on their journey home. She 
stayed one year with Mrs. Berry, and learned the 
trade sufficient to run the business when she got 
home. My father told me that if I would go to 
Rhode Island and bring my sister home, he 
would find the horse to go with. Desiring 
to visit my native land and my relatives, I 
accepted the proposition, and arranged for the 
journey. I procured a miller to take charge of 
the mill in my absence. I hired the use of a 
carriage for the journey, paying seven dollars 
for the round trip. My father's horse was only 
four years old, weighed about twelve hundred 
pounds, and was a fine roadster. I put him in 
the stable, and drove him nearly every day, rais- 



ing his feed to a peck of oats each day, in order 
to get him hardened for the journey. 

A young man by the name of Stephen Bur- 
dick, whose father had moved from Rhode 
Island leaving relatives behind, as my father 
had done, wished to make the same journey; 
He had an uncle, Ichabod Burdick, living at 
what was called Hopkinton City, where I had 
relatives also. As I liked company, I carried 
him to his uncle's for four dollars. Of course, 
he paid his own way. My horse on an average 
made about fifty miles a day, and he never 
refused his peck of oats but once on the round 
trip, making about eleven hundred miles. He 
was a fine looking horse, and attracted consid- 
erable attention as we passed through the 

The political situation was lively, as it was 
the year W. H. Harrison ran for president. 
Log cabins were all through the country. It 
was "Tippecanoe and Tyler, too, and hard 
cider all along the line;'' and political njeet- 
ings were thick all the way. We went by way 
of Ithaca, stopped over a few days with friends 
in Norwich and Preston, Chenango County, 
over the Catskill Mountains, crossing the Hud- 
son River at Hudson, crossing Connecticut, and 
striking Rhode Island near Hopkinton City, 


so-called. My passenger and I stopped with 
his uncle the first night in Rhode Island, about 
three miles from where I was born. 

The journey thus far was extremely pleasant, 
and the Catskill Mountains and the scenery 
were most beautiful. We stopped on the top 
near the observatory or lookout, taking views 
from every direction; then we started down 
the mountain, the road being crooked and steep 
in many places. Now and then we would reach 
points where we could view the Hudson River 
for miles up and down, and see the farms in 
the valleys spread out before us, reminding us 
of a large map spread out before us. We 
could readily say that none but a God could 
create a world like ours. 

The political parties were then called Whigs 
and Democrats. I was a Whig because my 
father was, and my first vote was cast for Gen- 
eral Harrison. The Whigs claimed to be the 
reformation party, but yielded to much wick- 
edness. They split on the slavery question 
after this, one part being called Silver-grays 
and the other Woolly-heads. The Woolly- 
heads were anti-slavery and the Silver-grays 
were pro-slavery. After dividing, the Demo- 
crats were called hunkers and barn-burners. 
Yet these parties would yield to the slave 


power, for the sake of getting the slave-power 
vote. These parties, like political parties of 
to-day, would resort to many tricks and games 
with a view to getting the start of each other, 
by getting out the greatest crowds. 

General Jackson was a Democrat, and took 
the name of Old Hickory. That party has 
always used a hickory pole to show their inde- 
pendence and to float the American flag. The 
Whigs used ash, or any wood of solidity that 
they found to be the most convenient to obtain. 
The Democrats used the emblem of a live fox 
to represent their candidate when they ran Yan 
Buren as their candidate, because his hair was 
red, or nearly the color of the red fox. The 
Whigs at the same time used the raccoon. At 
one of the great gatherings of the Whigs 
as they were about to raise a liberty pole, they 
fitted a place on the top of the pole, and placed 
a coon thereon before raising. This created 
great excitement, and many a song and poem 
were sung in reference to the coon. The day 
passed with many speeches and a joyful time. 
They left the coon on the top of the pole for 
the night, thinking that he was safe from all 
harm. The people of the town arose the next 
morn, and to their surprise some way the Demo- 
crats had managed to remove the coon and place 


a fox in its place. How it was ever done no 
Whig ever knew. 

I write these things only as they come into 
a man's memory in his journeying through this 
world for eighty-two years, and now I find 
myself in the land of my birth of eighty-two 
years ago. 



I FOUND many friends and relatives of my 
parents with their doors open to their friends 
and relatives. I remained in the State several 
weeks, and it was a great treat to me, as I had 
never seen the ocean before. With my young 
companions we visited Watch Hill, and along 
the coast, and had a grand time bathing in the 
ocean waves. I was a good swimmer, and ven- 
tured as far from shore as any of the boys, and 
remained in the water after the rest had gone 
ashore. When I decided to go ashore, I got 
into a current of undertow, so that, as good a 
swimmer as I was, I could not pull through. 
I had heard of the undertow, and that people 
sometimes get drowned struggling to getthrough 
it. Saying not a word to my friends on shore, 
I turned right about, and swam out into deep 
water, until I got out of the undertow, took 
a circuit, and came to the shore without any 
trouble. My friends did not know what I went 
back for until I told them. It was a great day 
for me. 



I visited many friends about the State, and 
many of the factories I had heard so much 
about. I took my first ride on a railroad on 
the Stonington Railroad to Providence. There 
was an excursion, the fare being only one dollar 
for the round trip, forty miles and back. As 
I had never seen New York, or sailed on a 
steamboat, I left my team v^ith friends, went 
by steamer through Long Island Sound, one 
hundred and sixty miles to New York, spent a 
few days, and returned by the same route, pass- 
ing through Hurlgate, or Hellgate, as we used 
to call it because of so many wrecks going 
through it. 

Now I began to think about finishing up my 
visit to leave for home. My horse had got 
well rested for the road. My sister had closed 
up her business with Mrs. Berry, but she must 
visit with me before we went home among our 
friends. We took the old post road for Provi- 
dence, stopping at Green Hill, Wakefield, 
Greenwich, to visit friends before reaching 
Providence. Here we found relatives, visited 
the city, the palace buildings of stores that 
were new to us, and other sights worth seeing, 
and took another route back in order to find 
other relatives farther north by way of Phcenix 
and Rockville to Hopkinton, and my birthplace; 


thence to Westerly, then called Pockatue 
Bridge. Here my sister had learned her trade, 
and we got our things together for leaving 
Rhode Island. 

My sister had become a favorite in Mr, 
Berry's family and among the friende around. 
Mrs. Berry's father lived with them. He was 
known as Deacon Billy Stillman, and was quite 
a writer and composer of poetry and prose. 
He said that he must write something for Sarah 
Anns' album before she left. This is a copy, 
which I place here for the novelty of it: — 

" To Sarah Ann Lanphear a word I must say, 
Since with us no longer she chooses to stay, 
Three hundred miles distant her course must steer. 
Since having been with us two thirds of a year; 
So fare you well, Sarah, if off you must be. 
No more, perhaps, each other to see. 
May blessings attend you wherever 3'ou may roam, 
And peace and contentment dwell with you at home. 
Though long miles and mountains betwixt us may 

A distance outstretching the reach of our eyes, 
May that happy friendship, no, never expire. 
Which in my old mansion we first did acquire; 
And should your kind fortune so turn it around, 
That you in hymeneal chains should be bound, 
May propitious Heaven provide you with one 
Whose virtues and kindness were never outdone. 
Then, Sarah, be careful to what you consent. 
Lest when it 's too late you have cause to repent; 


For, surely, he 'd better be both deaf and dumb, 
Than one of those dandies that like to drink rum. 
And now in conclusion permit me to say. 
Let us for each other remember to pray, 
That if on this footstool [ see you no more, 
We may have one blest meeting- on Canaan's bright 
shore. Wm. Stillman. " 



We started on our journey. We bade 
good-by to our Rhode Island friends, and 
crossed the Saugatuck River into Connecticut. 
We stopped at Mystic and Greenmanville, and 
again at New London, and visited friends, and 
then on through Connecticut byway of Albany, 
and there crossed the Hudson River, only stop- 
ping again at Dernyter and Brookfield to visit 
friends, until we reached home. 

Previous to this my father had sold his farm, 
two miles away, and built a new house near 
his mill, and I boarded with him, and with him 
was my home for a time while I run the mill. 
I paid my miller, and settled down at work 
in the mill again, after a pleasant time in 
Rhode Island, at the seashore, among the 
rocks, with friends, at New York, and during all 
my journey. My customers all seemed glad 
to see me back at my business again. But be 
assured that I had many a story to tell of my 
journey, especially to my young friends that 
used to come with grist to the mill. 


Of course I began to think of looking up my 
best girl with a view to settling down in life 
like other men. An uncle of mine had built a 
card machine, fulling mill, and cloth dressing, 
on the same stream a half mile below. My 
Uncle Amos Crandall who moved into the coun- 
try with my father, had by this time raised a 
family, and his oldest son, Ezra, was now a 
young man. He came and learned the trade 
of manufacturing cloth, etc., with his and my 
uncle that built the cloth dressing mill. He 
was two or three years my junior, but we were 
great friends, and associated together when we 
could. He soon came to be master of his 
trade, and finally took the factory to run for a 
certain share of profits, as I was doing in my 
father's mill. He, as well as myself, proved a 
successful man in business. We both thought 
we would marry and have a family of our own 

There were two sisters brought up in our 
neighborhood, whose father died early, leaving 
his wife with four children, and very little 
means. These two older girls were very indus- 
trious in school, and taught when quite young. 
In this way they helped keep the family 
together, but had a hard time of it, teaching 
summer and winter. Their family broke up 


housekeeping for a time; the only son was put 
out to learn a trade, and the mother took the 
youngest, a girl, with her and went to live with 
a sister and her husband in the town of Vetran, 
Chemung Co., N. Y., nearly one hundred miles 
away. We decided to make propositions to 
these girls; so together we called upon them, 
and were pleasantly received. We both stood 
well in society, and had acquired a few hundred 
dollars in the world. The girls accepted our 
proposition, and we decided to marry them 
During their fall vacation they desired to visit 
their mother and uncle's family in Chemung 
County. So we boys arranged our business to 
take the girls to visit their mother and friends ; 
they had never been able to visit their friends 
out of their own county. We fitted ourselves 
out with carriages for the journey. The first 
day we drove to Painted Post, near Corning, 
and stopped overnight. The next day we drove 
by the way of Horse Head, and reached their 
uncle's about noon. We were welcomed by 
their friends. Their uncle said, ''Boys, there 
are the barn and stables with plenty of hay and 
oats; feed your horses as much as you please 
while you stay, and make yourselves comfort- 
able as you can. We will visit around with 
you as much as we can." 


We remained about one week, visited with 
their friends, went to Mill Post and other 
towns, and drove to visit the girls' uncles and 
other relatives near Conesus Lake. Closing 
their visit here, we drove around the head of 
the lake, making our journey toward home, 
stopping at Dansville to rest and feed, visited 
some of the stores, and especially one kept by 
a Mr. Falkner of my acquaintance. There we 
purchased our girls each a nice dress pattern 
to take home. We arrived home safely after 
a pleasant visit and journey. The girls had 
never taken such a journey before. 

Painted Post took its name from a post that 
was set in the ground and painted with the 
blood of white people and horses killed by the 
Indians early in the settlement of the country; 
and Horse Head took its name from the fact 
that the Indians killed many horses, and piled 
up their heads here. 



My cousin, though younger than myself, was 
married some time before I was, as he had a 
house in connection with his factory. I thought 
I woukl not marry until I was twenty-five years 
old. At my leisure I built a little house near 
the mill, my father furnishing the material. 
As I had a shop near the mill, I made such 
things as I thought we should need, knowing 
that my wife would have little furniture. I 
was handy with tools. First I made a cherry 
drop-leaf table, then a cherry stand, next a 
chest of drawers, or bureau, and then a desk and 
bookcase. I had a painter grain and varnish 
the pine furniture. I purchased three splint- 
bottomed chairs, and a set of wood-bottomed 
chairs, and a rocker, that being enough for 
the little house with one living-room, a bed- 
room, and bed sink, so-called, an entry-way, 
and stairs to get up into the garret of the little 
one-story house. 

My father was quite anxious for me to marry. 
My girl was still teaching in the Alfred district 
school, and would have rather a hard time to 


teach through the coming winter, as it was the 
custom for the teacher to board around in the 
district. I finally thought that it would require 
but little more expense to marry then than to 
wait until spring, when I should be tw^eiity-tive 
years old. The night after the Sabbath I went 
to see her about it. It was understood that we 
were to be married sometime, and our church 
pastor had often joked about marrying us. W*e 
decided that we would be married the next 
Sabbath eve. The pastor lived near where my 
gii'l lived in the village. I spoke to the pastor 
about the matter, and for him to call after the 
lecture at the school building. 

I went np to the village the next Sabbath 
eve; we walked over to the lecture, and re- 
tui-ned. Soon the pastor stepped in. There 
was only the woman of the house present when 
we were married, and she was good at keeping 
a secret. I returned home, and attended to my 
milling for two weeks lacking one day, and my 
wife remained at her school, that closed the 
following week. The pastor was about to go 
on a journey East. He met my father, who 
jokingly asked the pastor if he was not 
going to marry Ethan before he went East. 
They were both jokers. The pastor said, he 
never expected to marry Ethan. He did not 


intiaiate that he had already done so. The 
whole thing was kept a secret. 

The second Friday afternoon I said to my 
father: '' Will yon lend me your horse and car- 
riage a few hours this afternoon?" ''Where 
do you wish to drive ? " " Up to the Center to 
bring my wife down home.'' ''Pshaw! you 
have n't any/' '' Let me have the carriage and 
horse, and I will show you." Then I told him 
and the family that Elder Irish had married us 
two weeks ago the next evening. My father 
thought much of my wife. When he and the 
elder met, they had quite a jolly time over the 
joke I had played on him. I got a stove and 
put in the little house, and went to my wife's 
old home and got her few things, and moved 
them into our little home. She had three pairs 
of knives and forks, three cups and saucers, a half 
dozen plates, and a few pieces of bedding. I had 
one bed and bedding of my own, and went to the 
store and purchased a half set of dishes, and thus 
we started housekeeping; but were we not happy, 
though? I did not owe a dollar in the world, 
and her school money paid off all her little 
debts. After we were fairly settled, our friends 
called upon us. ''How nice you look I " they 
said. They were astonished to learn that I 
had made most of the furniture myself. 



We were both members of the church, and 
we decided to live our religion, and started by 
asking a blessing from onr Heavenly Father at 
our first meal. We kept up a religious service 
as long as she lived. 

My business increased to that extent that it 
seemed necessary to run the mill night and day 
some of the time. I hired help sometimes; but 
often ran it day and night myself. Old millers 
told me I would kill myself at the rate I was 
working, if I followed it up long. I had always 
been a tough and hardy boy, and I thought I 
could stand almost anything. But after follow- 
ing the business six or seven years, my health 
began to fail, and the doctor told me 1 would 
have to quit the mill business, or I would die 
with miller's consumption. In the spring of 
1844 I decided to give it up, and go West to spy 
out the land with a view of purchasing a Western 
farm, and go to farming, as I had spent my boy- 
hood on a farm. I decided to go down the 
Alleghany Eiver on a raft and get wages; as at 
this time it was a great business to run the lum- 
ber in rafts down to Pittsburg, Cincinnati, and 


some to Natchez and New Orleans. Many 
people moving west would go on rafts or arks 
down the river, because they could go cheaper 
than any other way. They would land at the 
nearest point of destination on the raft, then go 
by steamer or otherwise to their destination. I 
got my business arranged, leaving my wife with 
my father's family, and started the first day of 
April, 184:4:, on foot, and walked twenty-two 
miles to my brother's, in Friendship, where the 
village of Nile now is, staying here overnight. 
The next day I walked to Little Genesee, twelve 
miles, and stopped with friends that were in the 
lumber business. I arranged to go with them 
as soon as the water was high enough. They 
were to give me as good wages as they could 
afford, as I was a raw hand on the river. I 
went with them to the Osway Creek, and helped 
run one raft out the creek down to the river, six 
or seven miles, where they coupled and made 
big rafts to run on the river. 

Men had come, as the custom was, to hire out 
to Warren, Pittsburg, or as far as they could 
agree upon. And many families had brought 
their goods to Glean, and boarded the rafts to 
go as far as they could toward the land of their 
settlement. Some of my friends that had here- 
tofore moved to Lewis County, 111., and had been 


back to Alleghany to visit their friends, were now 
returning home. Among our company were a 
missionary and his wife, of my acquaintance. 
His name was Leander Scott. He was a mis- 
sionary under the auspices of the Seventh-day 
Baptist denomination, and intended to locate in 
Illinois. The widow and son of Elder Richard 
Hull, the man who preached the first sermon I 
ever heard (referred to in a former chapter) , 
were along, having been east on a visit. They 
had settled in Lewiston, 111., where he died. 
The company that we went with had several 
rafts, and on one or two they had shanties where 
families could live, and the raftsmen could lodge 
nights when we chanced to land near together. 
We had a jolly good company when all got 
ready to start. The water in the river ran 
high, so that we did not have to hurry. We 
had some Indian pilots and raftsmen from the 
Alleghany Reservation. They were good pilots 
and raftsmen as long as the rafts ran smoothly 
and there was no danger, but when danger 
came, they would jump for land as quickly as 
possible. We stopped at Warren, and renewed 
our stores. The river was so high that some of 
our crafts got driven on shore, and we had to 
get into the water and shove off now and then. 
That was not so pleasant, but we reached Pitts- 


burg safely. There the lumbermen had an 
offer for their lumber, and we remained a few 
days to see what they would do about going 

While we were visiting, a large excursion 
boat came up on high water, and advertised to 
take passengers to St. Louis, eleven hundred 
miles, for ten dollars, with board. Our company 
got together, and we decided that we had better 
take our passage with them. We settled with 
the lumbermen, and really they did better by 
me than I expected. They said that I had done 
well for them, and they would pay me the same 
wages as they paid the old hands, seventeen 
dollars. We then gathered our baggage to- 
2:ether to board the boat. 



We fouDd a great crowd on board, as this 
was an excursion trip for the boat. We set sail 
on the Ohio River, and were to sail its whole 
length, and thence on the Mississippi River to 
St. Louis. We were eight days making the 
trip. We did not mind that as long as we were 
boarded for the trip, and then the officers of 
the boat were pleasant and obliging. They told 
us where and when they would stop, and were 
kind in explaining the country and the cities 
and towns as we passed along through the 
beautiful country. Our attention was called to 
General Harrison, and his home in a block 
house that set back from the river, in Ohio, 
and the point he crossed the river in his skiff 
to give the alarm of danger, that gave him the 
title of Tippecanoe in the campaign for the 
presidency. We stopped at many of the towns 
on the river, and a whole day at Cincinnati, 
Ohio, and a day at Louisville, Ky. Notice was 
given as to how long the stop would be, and 
meals would be prepared in regular order, which 



would be free just as if we were on the move. 
This was very kind, and it gave us a grand 
opportunity to visit those cities. 

Our missionary with us was a great aboli- 
tionist, and while we were stopping in Ken- 
tucky he took the opportunity to visit some of 
the plantations and see for himself how the 
slaves w^ere treated, and to talk with them. 
He was a courageous man, and sometimes took 
liberties that other men would shrink from. 
He was a tall, strong man, and could put on as 
savage a look as the next man. His eyebrows 
ran clear across over both eyes, and were as 
black as the darkest slave. He called at a plan- 
tation where the slaves were at work in clubs 
or companies, and began talking with them as 
to how they were treated, and whether they 
were satisfied to remain in slavery, etc. The 
overseer, observing him talking with the slaves, 
came that way, and said to him, " We do not 
allow men to be talking with our slaves." 
Scott paid no attention to him, but continued 
his conversation. The overseer came that way 
again, making the same statement, but Scott 
did not so much as look up at him. Soon 
he returned again, and with a little more ear- 
nestness ordered him to leave the field. Scott 
turned and walked in front of the overseer^ 


looking him square in the face, and said: 
"Sir, do yon know who you are talking to? 
If you know when you are well off, you would 
better mind your own business, and not meddle 
with me when I am talking with other geiitle- 
men," at the same time looking him square in 
the eye as if he was about to give him a thrash- 
ing. The poor overseer skipped for head- 

The scenery of the Ohio and Kentucky val- 
leys is beautiful; but the contrast at that time 
was manifest from the fact that slavery existed 
in one State and freedom in the other. Schools 
flourished in the free States; the white popula- 
tion in the slave States was not enough to sup- 
port district schools. The slaveholders edu- 
cated their children by hiring teachers to come 
into their families, while the children of the 
poor whites were neglected, especially in the 
country districts. I learned of one county 
where there were but seventeen whites that 
could read and write; and there could be found 
some who were no more intelligent than the 

We arrived safely at St. Louis, Mo. St. 
Louis was an old conservative city, and at 
that time was considered of more wealth than 
Chicago, and the two cities strove to see 


wliicli should take the lead as to prosperity and 

Our company separated here for different 
points and settlements in the North and West. 
Quite a company of us took passage on a steamer 
up the Illinois River, some for one point, and 
some for another; but the missionary and quite 
a company of men and some women were des- 
tined for Louis County, 111. They left the boat 
on the west side of the river near the mouth of 
the Spoon River, sixteen miles from the settle- 
ment in Louis County, where they intended to 
stop, and where was the home of some of our 
company. We started out in good cheer for 
Lewiston, 111. 



After we started, our boat proved to be an 
old one and very slow, and she had to halt 
now and then for repairs. I had made up my 
mind to stop off at Griggsville Landing, and go 
back eighteen miles toward the Mississippi River 
in Pike County, to look up some of my wife's 
relatives that had settled at a place called 
Barry. I left the boat and my company, took 
a stage two miles up to Griggsville, and stopped 
overnight. It was a little town settled largely 
by New Englanders, and a verj^ pleasant place 
to stop. I attended a temperance meeting that 
evening, and made some acquaintances. 

The next day I had some sixteen or eighteen 
miles to make, with no stage going in that 
direction, which was directly west. I decided 
to start out on foot with my bag on my shoul- 
der. It was prairie for four or five miles, when 
I struck into woodland or oak openings, so 
called. My friends gave me instructions to 
follow a wood road until I came to a creek, 
then to leave it, and keep directly west. At 
the last house on the prairie I thought I would 



call and get a lunch of some kind, as I might 
not get a chance again. The lady said that 
she could give me a dish of bread and milk. I 
took it thankfully, and asked her what I should 
pay her. She answered, ''A bit, long or short, 
as you happen to have it."' At that time a 1*2 -J- 
cent piece was called a long bit, and a ten-cent 
piece a short bit in that country. I thanked 
her and started on my journey in the timber, 
and when 1 came to the creek, I set my 'com- 
pass due west. 

For miles I did not see any signs of civiliza- 
tion but cattle-tracks and a wild turkey. It 
was quite warm, and I began to feel tired and 
hungry. The sun was getting on a near level 
with the earth in that level country, and as I 
came to an opening, I saw a log house ahead, 
so I called to make inquiries, thinking that I 
would get something to eat. As I stepped in, 
the family were in readiness to take their even- 
ing meal, and the host invited me to take 
supper with them. I made no excuses, but 
accepted the offer. 

He wished to know where 1 was from, and 
where I wa^ going, and to know if I was wish- 
ing to find a place to settle, etc. I told him I 
had tliat in view, but desired to reach Barrj^ 
that nii^^ht, where I had friends that had settled 


about that town. When I spoke their names, 
he said he knew them, and the place was about 
four miles distant. He also told me that thej 
had a brother-in-law living about two miles 
from him. He said, " But you had better stop 
with me to-night, and go over in the morning." 
"No, I thank you, I will try to get to the near- 
est one to-night ; what is my bill ? " "Not any- 
thing, sir." "Well, sir, I called with the view 
of paying for a supper if I could get it." 
" You are welcome; but it was lucky that you 
sat down without excuses; for if you had not, 
you would not have got any, as we would have 
cleaned the table, and nothing would have been 
left for you." He found that I had come from 
New York State, and said he had moved from 
that State. He was then the more anxious for 
me to stop over with him, but went on a piece 
with me to pilot me through. The first house 
I reached proved to be that of my wife's uncle, 
so of course I stopped over. The next day he 
went with me to Barry, and I remained about 
one week with my wife's relatives. There I 
heard much of the horse-thieving in that part 
of the country, and some of the happenings in 
that neighborhood. 

Mob law seemed to come into use because 
the officers were so wicked that people could 


not get the law enforced. As I was walking 
witli a friend, we passed a man's stable, and he 
told this story: "This man owns a fine pair of 
horses, and keeps them in their stables. Around 
them was a high board fence with a gate for 
entrance. A man said to the owner, ' You 
would better watch your stables to-night, for I 
have seen a stranger walking back and forth 
by your stables, and he may be watching for 
your horses.' 'Will you come and watch with 
me, and bring your rifle?' ' I will.' At about 
eleven o'clock they took their places across the 
street from the gate, out of sight. About one 
o'clock two men appeared, opened the gate, 
entered the stables, and led out one horse and 
hitched him; then went back for the other. 
As they came out, the watchers rushed to the 
open gate with rifles in hand. The thieves, 
discovering tliem, could see no chance for es- 
cape but to jump the high fence into a large 
cornfield; but as they mounted the fence, each 
man picked his mark and let fire. One of the 
thieves dropped inside the yard, while the 
other went over. The man inside soon died. 
"They then raised the neighbors to make a 
search for tlie other man in the cornfield as 
soon as it was light enough. They sent a man 
for the justice of the peace just out of town to 


come down, as they wished to use him. His 
wife said he went out last evening, and had 
not got in this morning. The people in search- 
ing the cornfield soon found the other man 
dead. To the astonishment of the town, this 
man was the justice of the peace of the town, 
and the other man ahorse thief from St. Louis." 

I was shown an oak tree a little out of town, 
with one large limb that stretched out over the 
street, where, he said, several horse-thieves had 
been hanged. I am not sure but that we have 
ofticers at present in our country that if justice 
should take place, might be hanged also. 

I visited the large farm of a slave that 
early purchased himself in Kentucky, then his 
wife, and settled in this locality when it was 
almost like a desert. By their industry they 
made money, went back to Kentucky, and 
purchased his two sons. At the time I was 
there they were the wealthiest family in the 
township, owned four hundred acres of land, 
and were great stock raisers for foreign markets. 

I remained in this neighborhood about one 
week, and then one of my friends saddled two 
horses, one for me and one for himself, and he 
accompanied me the eighteen miles to the river, 
where I took a steamer up the river on my 
journey again, and he returned to his home. 



I FOUND on the boat a Dr. Stillman, from 
Allegany County, N. Y., and another man 
bound for Lewiston also. We left the boat at 
the mouth of Spoon River. We found the 
high water had overflowed the banks and 
spread over the bottom lands for three miles 
back to dry land. We hired a man to take us 
with his team across the bottoms and land us 
opposite the ferry on Spoon River, where we 
were to cross on our route. He returned after 
landing us in the woodland. We walked over 
to the river, the flood had left a heavy coat of 
mud for us to tramp through, and when we 
arrived at the river we found the flood had 
carried away the ferry-boat, and there was no 
way for crossing, and we were surrounded by 
water, and not a house on the apparent island. 
We pushed over a dry tree that had broken iu 
two pieces; this we tied together with grape- 
vines, and hauled into the edge of the water; 
but this would only bear up but one of us at a 
time. I went up the river to a place that had 



not been overflowed by the flood, and found a 
pile of rails. I called the men, and the^^ came, 
and we hauled the rails to the water's edge and 
made a raft by putting in a tier one way, and 
another tier the other way, to hold them to- 
gether, placed a slab on top, and two of us got 
aboard. One held the baggage up out of the 
water, and the other paddled with a pole and 
shoved out into the stream, while the other 
went back to the dry-tree raft and pulled out. 
The current was strong; and the opposite bank 
rough and high without any good landing place, 
which made it quite dangerous about attempt- 
ing to land, lest we should break up our raft. 

I took charge of the baggage, and our pilot 
ran as near the shore as he dared; and as I had 
opportunity, I would toss the baggage on shore 
Then we saw a place where we thought it would 
do to try a jump for shore. We were fortunate, 
and as our weight left the raft, the rails scat- 
tered in every direction, and we went for our 
baggage that was scattered along up the river. 
Our partner had quite a serious time before he 
could land his craft, but he succeeded, however, 
about a half mile below, and we were glad to 
see him heave in sight on the same shore. 

We were all tired, but we stopped at the first 
house and got a lunch, and then we started for 


Lewiston, ten miles awaj. We arrived about 
four o'clock, and called for supper at the hotel. 
Here our companion was to leave us. It was 
now three or four miles, in a westerly direction, 
to our friends' settlement. I decided to go 
through that night, but the doctor said he was 
too tired to try it. We could find no team to 
take us, I shouldered my bag and started out, 
and arrived about eight o'clock at a house of 
an old neighbor of my father's when I was 
a boy. They were very glad to see me, and 
we had a great amount of talking to do, and did 
not retire until quite late. About half past ten 
o'clock the doctor rapped at the door. He got 
lonesome after I left, and after resting he made 
up his mind to come through. 

The next day we called around among the 
neighbors, and found our friends that arrived 
here the week before. We also found an old 
minister by the name of Babcock, and the son 
of the widow who journeyed with us from 
Allegany to her home in this town, had come 
from Wisconsin, too, by working oxen for 
breaking teams, etc. They were old acquaint- 
ances in New York State. He said: "Boys, go 
to the woods and saw some wheels off some 
big log, and make a cart, and then you can 
hitch ayoke of oxen to it, and put your baggage. 


etc., on it, and go home with me to Wisconsin. 
YoQ can have a good time, and take your own 
time. It is nearly two hundred miles. Get 
you a gun and a dog." There were seven of us 
most of the way, and we arranged for the 



Elder Scott decided to go on with us as far 
as Farmington, as that was one of his mission 
stations. We stopped at Canton, where I found 
an old acquaintance of mj boyhood, and 
stopped over niglit with him, while our com- 
pany went on a few miles farther. I went on 
in the morning and overtook our company. 
As we neared Farmington, Elder Scott said, 
" You stop over here with me at Mr. Evans's, 
and I will get a team and take you on in the 
morning, until we get in sight of your com- 
pany, then you can catch up with them in a 
little time." Mr. Evans's wife was raised near 
me in Allegany County, N. Y. I had a pleas- 
ant visit with her, as her mother was a Lan- 
phear, and a distant relative. The next morn- 
ing the elder hooked up a team, and we started 
on through the oak openings and out on to 
a large prairie where we could see a few miles 
ahead, and came to where some man had fenced 
up a section to make him a home, shutting up 
the usual track of travel, so that the people had 
to drive around the fenced farm and strike the 


track beyond. So I decided I could cross 
the fenced lands on foot better than to have 
him drive me around. We shook hands, said 
good -by, and he turned back, and I started 
across the big field. 

I could see my company a few miles ahead, 
and started on a vigorous walk across this large 
farm, with only a cane in hand to help my 
progress. I walked pretty lively, and as I was 
crossing a spot of tall grass, I raised my foot 
to make a step, and there I saw a large black 
snake coiled in a heap. He was scared and 
made a big Hop, and I was scared as well, and 
made a big jump if ever I did, but my cane 
and his head came in contact, and his snakeship 
surrendered. He was only three and one half 
feet long, and a big one. I pushed on and over- 
took my company all in good cheer. 

Our dog was a lively fellow, and would smell 
a rabbit if one was in a patch of hazel-brush 
and drum him out right lively. There were 
large numbers of rabbits and prairie chickens, 
and as it was nesting time with chickens, we 
fared well for meat and eggs. I killed thirteen 
snakes in crossing one prairie in one day. 
I never was very friendly to snakes, and the 
boys used to laugh to see me chase them. 
I carried my cane everywhere I traveled west 


and south of the Lakes. I kept no count of 
the number I killed with that cane. We crossed 
one prairie, twenty-four miles where we crossed 
it, and fifty miles the other way. We had to 
start in the morning in order to get across before 
night. In about the center was a little grove, 
and a large spring made out from a little bluff 
therein. An Irishman had purchased this sec- 
tion and built him a mud house near by; and his 
nearest neighbor was eleven miles away. Here 
we stopped and ate our lunch, and let the cattle 
eat and rest a little while. We had one cow 
along that gave milk. We milked her and 
drank the milk with our lunch. After we started 
the cow seemed a little sick, and for a time we 
were afraid that she had eaten something that 
was poisonous, and that we who had used the 
milk might be sick, but she was soon over it, 
and we felt no bad effect from it. 

Our company had made calculations to cross 
this prairie and go seven or nine miles beyond 
to a certain grove where we would stop for the 
night. We were getting a little tired and hun- 
gry, but all the company save one besides 
myself, decided to go through without stopping 
for supper. As we came to the timber, we 
found two log houses, and we, too, concluded 
to stop and see if we could get some kind of 


a lunch. We stopped at the first house, and 
saw pies and cakes on the outhouse, and con- 
cluded we had hit the right spot, but when we 
opened the question, "No," said the lady, *'we 
are to have a wedding here this evening, and 
we can not spare a thing. But if you should 
call at that house down there, you may get 
something." We hurried down there; the lady 
said she could accommodate us in a few minutes. 
We sat down on a log, and in a few minutes 
she called us in, and we sat down on some 
stools and ate a good lunch, paid her, and 
thanked her, and by this time the sun was pass- 
ing out of sight, away on the western prairie. 
We could just see our company in the distance. 
Darkness was closing in upon us, and soon the 
clouds began to gather, but we tried to follow 
the track, but somebody had been breaking up 
the prairie, and thus broke up the track. 

There were no roads in that country then, 
only as people picked them out for themselves. 
We crossed the plowed field, but it was so dark 
that we could not find our track. We wandered 
about in darkness for a time, and about con- 
cluded that we should have to lodge with snakes 
and gophers on the prairie that night, when we 
saw a little light away in the distance on a 
bluff, and we decided to make for that. It was 


SiinclMj night, and so liappened that the daugh- 
ter of the household had her best fellow to see 
her that night, and kept a little light. We 
rapped, and the old lady came to the door. We 
stated that we were lost on the prairie, and 
would like to stay with them overnight. She 
invited us in very kindly, inquiring if we desired 
something to eat. We said we would take each 
a dish of bread and milk if she had it. We 
ate it and retired about eleven o'clock. We 
awakened in the morning to find it was raining 
smartly, and there we were, our coats and bag- 
gage were left out of doors the night before. 
We inquired for the grove where our company 
was to put up, and they pointed it out about 
nine miles in the distance. We remained and 
got our breakfast. The rain slacked up, and 
we settled our bill, thanked our hostess, and 
started for the grove. We arrived about eleven 
o'clock, and found our company awaiting our 

The storm cleared away, and we started on 
our journey again. AVe had to cross Rock 
River at Rockford. There was no bridge there 
yet, and we must get our cattle across. The 
crossing was made by roping flat boats together, 
which we crossed by paying toll. We had one 
horse along, which we led on to the boat, and 


the oxen and the cart, then huddled the cattle 
to the edge of the water. As the boat started, 
we hurried the cattle after the boat, and they 
followed the oxen which were on the boat, and 
swam to the other shore somewhat scattered; 
but they soon came together, as it is in the 
nature of Western cattle to keep together. 
Now our party divided, part going by way of 
Jonesville, and the rest of us with the old 
Elder easterly to his largo farm on Big Foot 
prairie, in Wisconsin. By this time the prairie 
grass had cut the uppers of my boots through 
so as to let in water. I had traveled some 
days with wet feet, and had taken cold, and 
was threatened with lung trouble. The Elder's 
son was a physician, and gave me a dose of 
calomel and julep. They invited me to remain 
with them a few days and recruit before I 
started out. 

In a few days I started for Milton, some ten 
or fifteen miles away. On the way I found an 
old neighbor who settled there in the openings 
some three miles from Milton. They invited 
me to stop with them. The man was a cripple, 
with one arm and hand, still he had started a 
farm there. He had planted a field of corn, 
and the gophers, a sort of ground squirrel, were 
doing considerable damage to it. He was not 


able to use a gun, neither was his young son. 
I said to him. If you can find a flat stone or a 
short board, I can set figure-four traps around 
the field that your boy can set. and catch the 
gophers. That was a new idea to him. I 
fixed the traps, and left for Milton for a few 
days. When I came back, the boy had caught 
about eighty gophers, and saved the corn. 



I CALLED at Joseph Goodrich's at Milton. 
He had been there two years. He was an old 
friend of ours in New York State. He said to 
me, "Cut your notch on my table so that you 
may know just where to take your place while 
you stay in Wisconsin." I had not got over 
my cold yet, but thought I would take my 
time and walk over to Albion, eight or ten 
miles, and spend the Sabbath with friends who 
had settled over there. My lungs were rather 
sore, still [ attended church in a log house. A 
friend observed my condition, and invited me to 
his home. A Dr. Kider had moved from Alfred 
to the town of Milton, and was sent for to come 
over to Albion to see a sick man. On hearing 
that I was in the neighborhood sick, he called 
to see me, and said I was pretty sick, and de- 
cided to stay overnight with me. The first 
thing he did was to bleed me, and then place 
a large blister plaster on my chest. That was 
the old-fashioned way of treating in cases of 
inflammation in those days. I then concluded 
that I was sick. He thought I had better try 



to get over where he was stopping, so it might 
be more convenient for him to attend me. He 
was stopping with a friend of mine, so 1 ar- 
ranged to get over there. Mj friends were 
very kind to me, and in a week or ten days I 
was able to get out again. I called on various 
settlers of my acquaintance, and then began to 
think of going home. Nearly all the friends 
wished to know when I was going back to 
Alleghany, as they wished to send letters by 
me to their friends. 

I looked out two or three places that I 
thought I should finally purchase sometime for 
a home of my own. I called on a brother of 
my Uncle Amos Crandall, referred to in a 
former chapter. I found his father there on a 
visit, who was to return to New York State, 
but did not like to go alone, and would like to 
go with me, but was not quite ready. His son 
said if I would remain another week, he would 
send his team to take us to the lake, some 
sixty odd miles. The roads were very bad, so 
I decided to remain another week, and make 
calls among the settlers. At the end of the 
week I had about forty letters in my satchel to 
take back to friends. Postage in those days 
was ten cents on a letter, and that was worth 
saving. They would possibly go through 


quicker and safer with me. The time arrived 
for leaving Wisconsin. Mr. Crandall arranged 
his double team and big wagon and his man to 
take us to the lake, and said he would put in 
ten bushels of wheat to take along to sell to 
pay expenses. Before we got half through, 
we got set in the mud, and had to pry out the 
wagon. We stopped at a little town, and were 
offered fifty cents a bushel for our wheat, which 
we accepted. 

We finally got through to the lake, and 
engaged our passage on a steamer to Buffalo. 
The old gentleman did not feel able to pay 
cabin fare. The steerage passenger cabin was 
comfortable with berths, but the berths had no 
bedding, so I went into a store and bought a 
nice buffalo robe, and with that and the baggage 
made a comfortable bed; and our steamer set 
sail for Buffalo. We were four days getting 
through, Chicago at this time, ISM, had a 
population of about eleven thousand. Chicago 
was a small city. We took a packet boat on 
the Erie Canal to Rochester. Thence by canal 
by the way of Mt. Morris to Dansville. We 
had to change boats at Mt. Morris, and in the 
hurry to get the old gentleman's baggage 
changed, I forgot my satchel and left it hanging 
up in the boat, and did not miss it until on our 


way about four miles. Then I had to foot it 
back to Mt. Morris. I found my satchel on the 
peg where I left it in the boat. J^ow how to get 
to Dansville in time to look after the old gentle- 
man was the question. But there was no time 
to lose. I shouldered my satchel, and took the 
towpath four or five miles, stopped for dinner, 
hired a man to take me to Dansville, and 
arrived there before the boat got in. I found 
a man there who lived in Arkport, ten miles on 
our way, who had unloaded his produce, and was 
just ready to start for home. I made arrange- 
ments with him to take us as far as he went, and 
started out. On our way we had a chance to 
chat about my journey and the West. I found 
him to be a pleasant gentleman, and he offered 
to drive us through to my home for si includ- 
ing the whole distance, twenty miles. We 
luckily reached home before night, in Alfred, 
at my father's, near the old mill. 

That sickness in Wisconsin was the only 
sickness I had to lay me up in all my travels. 



On arriving home I found that my wife had 
gone to what is now Nile, in the town of Friend- 
ship, where my three brothers were settled in 
business, to make them a visit preparatory 
to going West. I soon went to meet her there. 
My parents pleaded for us not to go so far 
away, and when I got to my brothers, they all 
set in for us not to go. I then owned eighty 
acres of land that lay close to the little town. 
Some merchants in the place owned twenty-five 
acres of improved land that lay between my 
land and the little village road, that they offered 
to sell for $1,500. The friends set in for me 
to purchase that, and it would make me a 
respectable farm, fronting on the main street 
through the town. I finally arranged to pur- 
chase it. I then arranged to move into a house 
with one of my brothers, vrent back to Alfred 
and got my goods together, and moved to what 
was then called South Friendship. 

There was a 80x40 foot barn, but no house on 
the land I had just purchased. The first busi- 
ness was to build me a house. I had plenty of 



timber for building purposes, and tliere was a 
sawmill near by at which I could get my logs cut 
into lumber. This was in August or the first of 
September I hired a carpenter to work with me, 
and other help as I needed, and in the fol- 
lowing spring had it ready to move into. 

By spring my health had become quite good^ 
and I was ready to commence farming. I was 
raised on a farm, so that I knew how to do it. 
I usually had as good crops as any of my neigh- 
bors. I had forty sheep ready to put on the 
farm which all came from one ewe lamb for which 
I paid all the money I had when I was eight years 
old. My father let me keep it with his until I 
was nine years old. That spring I was nine 
years old the second day of March. In April 
she had a pair of twin lambs, so that in the fall 
I had three sheep. My father said I might take 
the three sheep and do as I pleased with them. 
I let them out to a man to double in four years. 
I let them out in that way until I owned this 
flock, and lastly let them out for one pound of 
wool per head annually, which I sold to help 
clothe myself before I was married. I mention 
this in order to show what a few pennies or 
shillings saved and put to proper use will do. 
Another boy purchased a lamb at the same time, 
but finally sold it for an old fiddle, and that 


soon played out, and he had nothing to show 
for his lamb. Think of it, reader! How many 
boys there are in the world who spend their odd 
pennies as foolishly as that ! There is an old say- 
ing that a penny saved is worth more than two 

I made up my mind to keep square with the 
world, to owe no man anything, to pay my debts 
when due. If I would like a new thing, and 
could not pay for it, I would wear my old clothes 
until I could; in cases of sickness there might be 
exceptions. But I would never allow a debt to 
ruQ long from my own extravagauce. I signed 
a note with two other men once to accommodate, 
and paid one hundred and one dollars to get out 
of it. That taught me a lesson, and I never 
signed another note for myself or any one else to 
this day; but made my word as good as my note 
would be. In my own business I kept a debit 
and credit business, that I might know the loss 
or gain at the end of each year. I made up my 
mind to be honest with every man, and with my 
God; to do right, and leave the result with 
Him, regardless of what man might say or do. 

I made my farming a success, as well as my 
other business. I endeavored to take the moral 
and religious side of every public question, 
regardless of other men's views or notions. I 


was an early abolitionist, and believed in God's 
law and order, and that he was no respecter of 
persons, that all were created with equal rights; 
consequently, I felt it my duty to aid or help 
any honest slave to the liberty I was permitted 
to enjoy. I harbored some of the ablest slaves 
that ever ran away from slavedom; such as 
Frederick Douglass, Logan, who became a bishop 
in the Methodist Church, and others I might 
mention, without remorse of conscience, regard- 
less of politicians or what wicked men might 
say or do. 

I was always a temperance man, never taking 
a glass of strong drink from my childhood, and 
always trying to persuade men and boys not 
to use it. When wicked men attempted to sell 
it in my neighborhood, I did what I could to 
prevent it, and if they persisted in it, I resorted 
to prosecution until they would quit the business, 
in my neighborhood at least. Of course I made 
enemies thereby, who sometimes resorted to do 
me damage by destroying my crops and bar- 
bering my horses' tails; but this was not half 
as bad as their making drunkards of my neigh- 
bors and friends. I offered building lots for 
sale at reasonable prices for the sake of im- 
proving the town; I helped to build a meeting- 
house on my land; and took charge of building 


a new schoolhoiise, and by permit of the voters 
of the district got up a subscription and put a 
belfry on it without taxing the people for it. 
I sent to an acquaintance in New York, and 
purchased a bell at first cost, and at my own 
expense went into my woods and found a 
crooked tree, worked out a yoke for the hang- 
ing of the bell, and placed it in the belfry 
ready for use without expense to the people. 
I am told that the bell swings on the same 
yoke to this day. 



About this time. I connected other business 
with my farming. Being acquainted in New 
England, and having rehxtives there, I did a 
commission business for New England manu- 
factories, etc. They trusted me to purchase 
wool and other produce for them, they paying 
me a fair percentage for my work. My wife's 
health was failing, so I got my business ar- 
ranged and took her with me to New York, 
thence by steamer down the Sound to Stoning- 
ton, thence by cars to Westerly, and my birth- 
place, where we visited many friends, then to 
the ocean beach, etc., and on to Providence. 
When I returned home, I found my business 
satisfactory, but my wife did not improve 

Tlie following season I arranged my business 
to make a journey to Jefferson County, N. Y., 
to visit my sister, who married Dr. E. R. 
Maxson, who settled in that county at Adams 
Center. I arranged to drive my double team, 
and so I invited my younger brother and his 
wife to take the journey with us, as it was a 


pleasant season of the year. We drove bj the 
way of the lake country to Geneva and to 
Rome, thence north to Adams Village, and 
thence to Adams Center, the home of our 
friends. This is a pleasant country, and we 
remained in that section nearly two weeks. 

We drove to Lake Ontario, stopped at sev- 
eral large towns, and at Sacket Harbor, a noted 
place from the time of the war with England 
in 1812. Here our government during that 
war began to build a war steamer, got the 
frame up, and the war came to a close. The 
government built a large house over the frame 
in order to preserve it if ever needed; but it 
was never needed after peace was declared, 
after that war, so it was kept for many years 
for a show and a place of resort, until the 
worms got into the timber and ate through and 
through until it crumbled to pieces, and it was 
torn down for fear of danger that it might fall 
upon people that visited it. 

Our friends went with us, and we returned by 
the way of Houndsfield back to the Center. 
This was our first visit to this section of country. 
When we had finished our visit here, we drove 
to Deruyter, Madison County, to visit friends. 
Much of the way the people had built a new 
plank road. It seemed very nice, and our car- 


riage ran easily and smootlily, the load being 
but little for the horses to draw; so we kept them 
on a fast drive. The horses were not used to 
being driven on such a hard road, and the next 
day they were so stiff it was difficult for them 
to walk out of the stable. Railroads were not 
plenty yet, and plank roads became quite com- 
mon. We remained here a few days, and my 
horses got limbered up so that we started for 
home by the way of Ithaca and the head of the 
lakes. South Dansville to Almond, Angelica to 
Friendship and home, having been away about 
four weeks. We found things all right at home 



My wife's health did not seem to improve. 
Thinking possibly it would be better for her to 
give up farming, as that would relieve her of 
much care, I reserved a few building lots and 
then offered the remainder for sale. I soon had 
an offer of ^3,300 for what was left of the farm, 
and I let it go. I then sold off my stock and 
farming tools and went directly to work to build 
me a house on one of the lots near by. My 
youngest brother was a carpenter and lived 
across the way in a house that I had sold him. 
I hired him to work with me. This was in the 
spring of the year; in the fall we had a snug 
little home, and we moved in. The next spring 
we put up a horse barn. 

We were comfortably fixed, and I increased 
my business in buying and selling produce, and 
the commission business, and traveled about the 
country where I could purchase at the best 
advantage, now and then making a trip to New 
York and JS'ew England. 

The spring of 1859 my wife's sister came to 
make us a visit. She was taken down with 
typhoid fever, and was sick several weeks, thus 



bringing large cares upon my wife. She finally 
took the fever, and being in poor health she 
could not rally through the fever, and finally 

This broke up my business somewhat. I 
made up my mind to make a trip west and south, 
and arranged my business accordingly. I left 
in June. I went to Chicago; thence to Portage^ 
Wis.; thence north to look up my wife's sister, 
who married a man by the name of Wadsworth, 
to deliver to her some of my wife's goods in 
accordance with her request. I found them near 
Burroak Prairie. I stopped with them some 
days. I visited the towns of Berlin City, Cart- 
wright, Burroak Prairie, New Friendship, Grand 
Rapids on the Wisconsin River, and the region 
of Stevens Point, and several high and noted 
rocks in that section of country, especially Ship 
Rock, and the Reshacree Rock, each being about 
three hundred feet high. I climbed to the top 
of the Reshacree for the sake of the wonderful 
view of the surrounding country. It is a level 
country, and from its top you can see as far as 
your eyes' vision can carry. These high rocks 
are scattered largely over the country, and from 
a distan(*e remind you of old castles soaring 
above the landscape. This country is a level 
and sandy soil without stone, and it is a wonder 


how these large and high rocks ever came to be 
located on these sandy plains. Some think this 
country was once covered with water, and that 
these rocks were floated here by icebergs. 
Keally they were wonderful to look upon. 

After I returned to my brother-in-law's, as we 
were sitting at the table one day I chanced to 
look out the back window and I saw an animal 
crossing the stream on the marsh. "What is 
that^ " '' It is a bear, '' said Wadsworth. He 
dropped bullets into each barrel of a loaded 
shotgun and handed it to me, and said, " Go as 
quick as you can around that piece of woods 
pasture, and I will follow him with rifle and dog, 
and we may get a shot at him." I ran around 
to the place where I thought he would be likely 
to come out of the woods pasture to cross into 
another woods. I stepped upon an oak stump 
cut close to the ground, and cocked my gun. 
Soon I heard the little dog bark, which was a 
signal that the bear was near at hand, and soon 
the old fellow popped out of the bushes, and 
stopped behind an oak staddle. I thought as 
soon as he moved one side of the staddle I 
would shoot. I looked at him and he looked 
at me. He showed his teeth at me, and the 
hair on his back began to straighten up and the 
hair on my head felt a little stift'. I must con- 


fess that I must have had what hunters called, 
''the buck fever." There I stood like a fool 
until the bear decided to leave and started to run 
another way before I decided to shoot, and then 
I presume my charge did not endanger Bruin's 
life much. If I had shot at first sight, I might 
have wounded if not killed the bear, for I was 
usually called a good marksman. And then I 
was not in much danger, as I had another charge, 
and Wadsworth was near by with his ritle; and 
a man that lived near by saw me, and supposing 
there was something that caused me to hurry 
as I did with gun in hand, grabbed his rifle and 
started for what it might be. Keader, you may 
laugh at my weakness as much as you please. 
I never had much growth of hair on the top of 
my head since, and I must confess that I never 
felt more foolish over a little matter than I did 
over that. 

Two days later a Dutch woman in the same 
neighborhood shot, I presume, the same bear, 
as one came into the yard in front of her home 
where her children were at play and she was 
washing at her tub of clothes. She grabbed a 
''handspike," and went so sharp for Bruin that 
he hustled up a tree just around the corner of 
the house. Knowing that her husband's rifle 
was hanging in its place inside ready for use at 


any time, she stepped in and grabbed the rifle 
without calling her husband, who was a little 
away in the field at work; but the discharge of 
the gun brought him to his house as quickly as 
he could get there, and to his surprise he found 
a dead bear there ready for him to dress. 

Bears were quite plenty that season in that 
part of the country. They had had a frosty 
season that had killed the nuts and wild fruit, so 
that the wild animals ventured pretty close to 
the settlers' homes, and often would venture 
into gardens and cornfields for green corn, etc. 
Several were killed while I was in that section 
of the country. 

A settler had moved there in the spring, broke 
up a little field and planted it to corn, and fenced 
it round with the crooked limbs of trees. They 
had a boy about twelve years old. The father 
usually worked away from home days, charging 
the boy to watch the cornfield and see that the 
cattle did not get in. He went to the field one 
day, and saw something, he did not know what. 
He ran to the house and told his mother that he 
wanted the rifle to shoot it. He hurried back 
into the field. As he looked across the lot be- 
tween the rows, he saw the thing sticking his 
head between the fence poles. He dropped on 
the ground, resting his gun on a low stump, and 


let her bang. The animal dropped, and the boy 
ran for the house and told his mother, **I guess 
I have shot the devil! Come out and seel " 

Another case: A boy went after their cow, 
found her, and started for home. Before get- 
ting home a bear pursued them, and he hustled 
the cow as fast as he could, and he and the cow 
had just time to jump the bars into the dooryard, 
while the bear placed his fore paws upon the 
bars and looked wistfully at the cow and boy as 
they reached the door to the shed near the house 
door. I might relate many a danger that hap- 
pened in my travels and observations, but must 
pass them for want of time and room. 



I TOOK the stage to Portage. Portage is situ- 
ated between Fox River and the Wisconsin 
River, where the two rivers elbow up toward 
each other, so near that the distance across from 
one to the other is only two miles or so. These 
rivers were navigable for small steamers; and 
the people thought it would be convenient to 
have a canal or channel cut through from one 
river to the other, so that they could run boats 
from one to the other. The grades only differed 
about four to six feet. The channel was cut 
through at quite a large expense; but when done, 
the land was so sandy that when the water was 
let' in, the sand would run in and fill the chan- 
nel faster than they could get it out, and thus it 
could not be kept in a navigable condition. 
So it proved to be a dead loss, as it could not 
be used. That part of Wisconsin and farther 
north is very sandy, so much so that it is hardly 
worth cultivation. 

I took the stage from here to Madison, the 
capital of the State. It is a beautiful section of 
country ; and as we went south the land improved. 
7 97 


When we arrived at Madison, we found it a beaa- 
tifiillj located city, siirronnded with little lakes 
and a fine farming country. I stopped a little 
time here and looked up a man that left Allegany 
County leaving some old debts behind unpaid. 
My father had an old claim, and wished me to 
collect it if I could, as the man had met with 
prosperity and got elected to a paying office of 
his county. But when I presented the claim, 
he said that when he left Allegany, he made up 
his mind that he should never pay his old debts 
he left behind. He claimed they were now out- 
lawed, although he slipped away in the night- 
time when he left. How many such men exist 
in the world! But God's law says: "Owe no 
man anything, but to love one another;" "What- 
soever ye would that men should do to you, 
do ye even so to them." God never ordered a 
bankrupt law, or outlawed an honest debt, espe- 
cially when a man was able to pay. Would an 
honest Christian man claim such a right? 

I left by cars for Milton, where I stayed for 
a time with my old friend, Joseph Goodrich. 
Making that my headquarters, I visited White 
Water, Albion, Jonesville, friends on Big Foot 
Prairie, and attended the State fair at Milwaukee, 
spending about four weeks about that part of the 
State, fishing and hunting some. While here 


I received a letter from home that Dr. Clark, 
my cousin and nearest neighbor, was dead, and 
the family desired me to take the administrator- 
ship of his estate. I answered that I might do 
it on my return if desired, but I had my plans 
laid to spend a month or two more traveling 
before I returned. They decided to wait for 
my return. 

I left Wisconsin by way of Chicago, thence 
into Ohio to Cincinnati; thence into Kentucky, 
Maryland, and Virginia; thence to Washington, 
D. C, where I stopped about one week. Since 
journeying so largely in our country, I have 
often wondered how it was that our nation hap- 
pened to elect to make our capital in so poor a 
part of our country- as the vicinity of Washing- 
ton. Of course our country had not developed 
at that time as it has since. But I must let that 
be for others to decide, and make the best of it. 



I TOOK the cars by way of Baltimore and Phila- 
delphia. Baltimore was the birthplace of Fred- 
erick Douglass, who was owned by his own father, 
his mother being a slave. He ran away when 
he was nineteen years of age. His career was 
wonderful. I harbored him many times while a 
slave. When he was a boy, he learned to read 
by getting the white boys to read the inscriptions 
on grave stones and signs in shipyards. A lady 
in his family took a liking to Fred for his apt- 
ness, and thought she would help him to learn 
to read; but when his father, or owner, found it 
out, he forbade her teaching him. He came to 
the State of New York, and finally went to Massa- 
chusetts and found some employment. He 
chanced to attend an antislavery meeting there, 
and was called upon to speak on the subject. 
He showed himself as a young man of talent, and 
the people manifested an interest in him, and 
proposed to help him educate himself. 

He soon took the lecture field. He finally 
went over to England as a lecturer, and the peo- 
ple over there learned that he was a slave, and 



where he ran away from, and who was his owner. 
They wrote to his old master to know what he 
would sell him for, or give him his free papers. 
The reply was, sTOO. They raised the money, 
and his owner, or father, took thesTOO and sent 
him a deed of himself. He finished up his edu- 
cation over there and came back to Rochester, N. 
Y., and commenced editing a paper called Fred- 
erick Douglasses Paper. He married, and raised 
a family, and they themselves did the most of 
the work on the paper. I took his paper until 
he suspended its publication and enlisted for the 
war with the intent of liberating his people. 

Baltimore was a very strong secession town. 
The people attacked the soldiers as they were 
passing through the city on the cars for Wash- 
ington, and were noted for their hatred toward 
the Northern people and President Lincoln. 
When Lincoln had to pass through Baltimore 
on his way to Washington, to be inaugurated as 
President of the United States, his life was in 
danger. He was aided by a friend to board the 
cars beyond the city, and thus escaped the mob. 

I passed on to Philadelphia, where I stopped 
a short time and visited the old building where 
our first representatives gathered; I saw many 
relics, the old national bell, etc. I passed on 
to Plainfield, N. J., and called on friends; thence 


to New York City, where I stopped a few days 
with friends; thence by Fall Kiver steamer to 
Fall River, and thence by cars to Boston; thence 
to Portland, in the State of Maine, the noted 
Prohibition State at that time, and learned of 
its workings and benefits to the people, etc. 

I returned to Boston, visited Bunker Hill mon- 
ument, Plymouth Pock, their capitol buildings, 
and took in the city generally. By the way, 
let me say that the monument is not located on 
Bunker Hill, but on a hill some little distance 
therefrom, I presume for convenience' sake. 
I climbed to its top for the sake of the lookout. 
I visited Plymouth Rock, so called, about three 
miles south from the center of the city. It was 
told me that Plymouth Rock proper was out in 
the bay quite a distance, and for convenience a 
large block was blasted off that rock, which 
was brought to the shore where it is now. An 
iron fence was placed around it, and the words 
"Plymouth Rock " cut thereon. Boston is noted 
for its narrow and crooked streets, and is an 
easy city for a stranger ( if his head is not level), 
to get lost or confused. The city has a fine com- 
mons or plains for visitors, shows, and parades. 
I may have more to say about it in another 
chapter, but I must now leave to make toward 
home, as I have been away nearly six months. 



I LEFT for Providence. I stopped here a day 
or so with cousins, and looked about the city, 
and left for Westerly, my native birthplace. 
On arriving there I met a friend from New York 
who had received a dispatch for me from my 
home, saying that my father was very sick, and 
to come home quick. He knew that I expected 
to get back to Westerly for the Sabbath-day, so 
kindly came on there to meet me with the dis- 
patch. I took the Stonington steamer that 
night for New York, arriving there Sunday 
morning; but unfortunate as it seemed, there 
was no train to leave for Friendship or Nile un- 
til Monday morning. It was a long day to wait, 
I assure you. To pass away the time I went 
over to Brooklyn and attended H. W Beecher's 
church and heard him preach. He was in the 
height of his glory then as a preacher. 

The next morning I was early at the train, 
anxious as to whether I should get through in 
time to see my father alive. The train arrived 
at Wellsville, twelve or fourteen miles from my 
home, between eight and nine o'clock that even- 



ing. Friendship was not then an express sta- 
tion. I offered the conductor five dollars if he 
would let me off at that station; but I could not 
persuade him to do it. I told him the circum- 
stances, but it made no impression on him. A 
tavern-keeper stood by, and said, "Jump into 
my bus and ride up to the hotel, and I will 
send you for less money than that.^' He ordered 
a man, " Hitch up the best team in the stable, 
and drive this man to Nile as quick as you can 
drive him there without injuring the horses." 
"Give me four dollars, and jump in. I will send 
your trunk to-morrow." I arrived home about 
half past ten o'clock. I found my father alive. 
He said he had been waiting for me for some 
time. He was perfectly rational, and we talked 
about an hour about his sickness, and he could 
not tell how it would turn with him. He was 
then in his seventy-sixth year, and never had 
been sick much. He said, " You had better go 
to bed and rest, and we can talk more in the 
morning." My next older brother was watch- 
ing with him that night. At about daylight my 
brother called at my door, and said, "Father 
seems worse; you had better come down." I 
dressed as quickly as I could and went to his 
bed, only to find him dead. When the doctor 
called in the morning, he said, "I think he 


would have died before, only for the hope of 
seeing you once more. After seeing you, he 
yielded to the disease, and died right away.'' 

He had made his will. We had many relatives 
about the country. I had arrived in time to see 
him alive, and help arrange for the funeral and 
to notify the friends. The funeral over, a new 
order ot things had to come into being. The 
will was read. He had not appointed an exec- 
utor. He had willed his home to his wife, and 
made provision for her. As I had done some 
business in that line, the heirs all decided that 
I should be appointed administrator to settle the 
estate. I had two estates on my hands then to 
look after and to close up as soon as the law 
would allow. I finally consented, and was ap- 
pointed by the court. His business was in good 
shape, as he had no debts against him except 
his doctor's bill and funeral expenses; but some 
of his claims were in such shape that it took 
some time to collect them in. As fast as I -got 
in money, I paid it to the heirs according to their 
demands, 7?;y> rata^ and when I got through, all 
were satisfied. 

My mother's house was not near so nice as 
mine, so I sold it, and she and her youngest 
daughter, who was not married yet, moved into 
mine, and 1 made it my home with them for a 


time. Finally my young sister married, and 
moved to Wisconsin. This rather broke up my 
mother's housekeeping. So she sold her house 
to her oldest daughter's husband, they agreeing 
to give her a home and support her during her 
lifetime. He afterward sold the house and 
bought another place, and moved and took her 
with them. He was taken suddenly sick and 
died. She was never happy after that, and was 
sorry she ever sold her home. After this she 
made it her practice to go from place to place 
and live with her children. Before the young- 
sister married, I took my mother and this sister 
with me on a journey to New York and on to 
Rhode Island to make a visit, and back to New 
York, and was there when the Prince of Wales 
visited that city. We then returned home. But 
she was never satisfied to think she ever sold her 
home, and finally died in her eighty-sixth year. 
I remained a widower seven years. During 
that time I settled up all the business on my 
hands except the one estate of Dr. Clark, which 
they desired I should hold in my hands until the 
only son should become of age. During that 
time I kept up my travels a good deal of the time. 
I had business in New York and Rhode Island. 
I had a nephew, the only son of my oldest 
brotlier, who died wdien this boy was young. 


He was now in his teens. I told him I was 
going to New York and Rhode Island. As he 
had never been away from home, I told him if 
he would like to go with me I would pay his fare. 
He gladly accepted the offer. We went to New 
York and then on east and made a visit among: 
our relatives, and he had a good time. We 
returned to New York and took in the sights. 
I then purchased him a ticket, and he returned 

I took the cars up to Troy, N. Y., stopped 
overnight, and in the morning took the stage 
over the mountain to Berlin and Petersburg, 
Rensselaer County, N. Y., about twenty miles. 
The scenery was fine, and as we arrived at the 
top of the mountain, and began to break toward 
the valley beyond, the grand scenery increased. 
As we cast our eyes down into the deep valley, 
and gradually raised our eyes up and down the 
valley beyond, hill after hill and mountain after 
mountain soared above each other until the 
Hoosick Mountains soared beyond, higher than 
all the rest, so beautiful that no traveler need 
begrudge the time and cost to make the trip. 
Many crooks and turns had to be made to land 
us among our friends in the village of Berlin. 

I remained here several days, and when 1 
decided to leave, an uncle of my wife drove me 


to Petersburg and left me to take stage early in 
the morning to the railroad station for Rutland, 
Yt., on my way to Montreal, Canada. As I 
had a few hours at Petersburg, I took up my 
time in climbing one of the mountains east of 
the valley,, where the snow lay in a deep gorge 
in the mountain the year round. It was rather 
a tiresome climb, but then I was younger and 
more vigorous than now. I returned to the hotel 
at night to be ready for the stage in the morning. 



I AVENT by stage to the station for Rutland and 
Montreal. Arriving at Rutland before night, 
I had an opportunity to look over the town. 
The train was to leave early in the morning, so 
that I had to hurry to the station before the 
people got up on the cars. As I was about to 
enter the cars, the conductor said, ''Take a 
seat in the sleeper until the passengers get up 
and get regulated." Thanking him, I did so, 
as there were empty seats in the sleeper. After 
a little time the sleepers began to get up and 
have their berths made up. I observed one 
large and gentlemanly looking man take his seat 
after his berth was made up. I knew that 
Joshua R. Giddings was a representative of our 
government, and stationed at Montreal at this 
time. I took the liberty to walk to his seat, and 
I inquired if his name was Joshua R. Giddings. 
" Yes, sir. But what do you know about Joshua 
R. Giddings ?" ' ' I have known you many years, 
and have read many of your speeches in Con- 
gress, yet never saw you before." " Where do 
you live, and what is your name?" " 1 live in 



Allegany County, N. Y. My name is E. Lan- 
phear. I am an antislavery and temperance 
man, and so are you. I liave known something 
of the struggles you have had in Congress in 
favor of the right, so much so that I almost felt 
that I knew you before I ever saw you." " Sit 
down, sit down. Where are you going ?" ' ' To 
Montreal." " That is my home at present, and 
I am on my way home now. You must stay 
with me right here through to Montreal." We 
passed the time together very pleasantly, and 
talked over the questions at issue in our na- 
tion as if we were old friends. I felt it a 
great privilege to associate with such a man for 
the knowledge I could gain. It w^as a pleasant 
day, and when we were nearing our day's jour- 
ney we crossed the river through the Grand 
Trunk bridge into the city. '•iS'ow," he said, 
"you had better go to such a hotel. When I 
get my office straightened up I shall want you 
to visit me. I shall call for you." I went to 
said hotel, engaged my room, etc., and took a 
little survey of the city. In the evening I heard 
a rap at my door. 1 answered the call, and 
there I found that Mr. Giddings and several of 
his friends had come to make me a call. He 
introduced me to his friends, and we had a 
social chat for the evening, and talked over the 


scenery that I would be likely to take an interest 
in. Mr. Giddings said the eight-mile drive 
around the mountain and to its summit was fine, 
and the scenery from the summit was grand. 
"If I can get time," said he, " I will take you 
on this drive before you leave. You must visit 
the cathedra], of course." I stayed there two 
days. I visited the cathedral. It was a new 
thing to me, although an old building, built with 
stone from bottom to highest pinnacles, with a 
chime of bells high up in the belfry. The cen- 
ter bell was the next largest then in the known 
world. The custom was to have the sexton or 
some one else go with visitors to show them 
through the building, but the doorkeeper handed 
me a guide and said, "Take your own time, and 
go where you please." I spent probably three 
hours in looking the building over. I went to 
the top of the steeple and among the bells. 
The scenery from that point up and down the 
river was fine. The order of worship was new 
to me, though everything in order. There was 
a continual going and coming of worshipers: 
they would drop before the fountain, wet their 
finger and make a cross on their forehead, then 
kneel before the Virgin Mary, looking as ear- 
nestly at her figure as if they were looking in 
the face of a god. 


I finished my visit at Montreal, and decided 
to make mj way home. I went to the depot, 
called for a ticket to Kingston, and handed over 
New York State safety fund money. " We do 
not take that kind of money here. " '' Why not ? 
It is our best money, and all that I have." 
''Can't help it; I am not allowed to take it." 
" What can I do? I am anxious to be on my 
way home in western New York." " I would 
go aboard the train and take my chances," said 
the ticket agent. I went aboard, and soon the 
ticket man came around for the tickets. I told 
him I hadn't any, as the agent at the office would 
not take my money, so I concluded to come 
aboard and take my chances. " Where do you 
wish to stop off?" "At Kingston." "Have 
you any silver?" "Only a few shillings." 
" Let me have that, and we will get along some 
way." He seemed like a gentleman, and now 
and then would come around and sit down and 
chat with me. When we were nearino^ Kino:ston, 
he came around, and said, "Let me have one of 
your bills now, and we will fix your fare." He 
stepped off the cars at a brokers office and got 
it changed and brought me my change all right. 
I stopped off at Kingston and crossed over to 
Sackett's Harbor on a small steamer through the 
Wolf Island canal. This cut off saves several 


miles' sail from going around the island. This 
canal runs through a lake on the island; and 
here on this lake I saw the greatest show of wild 
ducks I ever saw. The lake was literally cov- 
ered with a great variety of them. How 
I wished I had my old shotgun. I crossed 
by rail to the Erie railroad, and soon found 
myself safely at home. 



I WAS reared a Sabbath-keeper from childhood, 
and consequently was associated with the Sev- 
enth-day Baptist denomination. I was accus- 
tomed to attend their conferences and associa- 
tions, probably having attended thirty or forty 
sessions in the different States. I have the 
names of one hundred and sixty Seventh-day 
Baptist ministers that I have been personally 
acquainted with. In ray travels I have visited 
many of their churches. I was a member of 
the Western Ministerial Conference several 
years, and was their secretary for a nuinber of 
years before I left the West for New Jersey. 
I used to take part in their discussions, and now 
and then was appointed to write an essay on 
various subjects. 

I had decided to attend a conference at Mil- 
ton, Wis. Young Clark, the son of Dr. Paul 
Clark, deceased, learning that I was going to 
make a trip West, desired to go with me, as he 
had not been able to see much of our country. 
1 told him if his mother wished him to go, I 


would take him along. She said if I would take 
the charge of him, she would like to have him 
go. So we arranged to go on to the conference. 

After the meetings adjourned, we spent sev- 
eral days visiting friends in that section of the 
State, then took the cars to the Mississippi 
River, where we took a steamer up the river. 
The steamer was so crowded that there was 
scarcely sleeping room on the deck floors. 
There was a jolly set on board, and there was 
not much chance for sleep; but we rested as 
much as possible through the night. 

Wishing to find a cousin of young Clark's, 
when we arrived at the mouth of St. Croix River 
at Hastings, we changed to a small steamer, 
going up this river to Hudson, Wis., bordering 
on the little lake through which the river passed. 
There were but few passengers on board, as the 
steamer ran only up to Hudson. There were 
plenty of wild geese along the river and on the 
lake. The ofticers usually kept shotguns on 
board the boat for shooting game. The officers 
said if the passengers were not in a hurry to get 
through, they would have a little sport by shoot- 
ing game on our trip. This proposition pleased 
us, especially young Clark. The geese and 
ducks were in flocks usually on the water. 

The pilot would observe a flock in the distance, 


and would head his boat in that direction, put 
on a full head of steam, and get up a good motion, 
then throw off the steam, and let the boat run 
as quietly as possible until arriving in gunshot, 
when one would shoot at the flock on the water, 
and the other when the flock arose from the 
water. They would usually wound one or more 
geese; but to catch them after wounded was no 
small task, as they would usually put for shore 
and into the bushes if they could get there. 
The boys would jump into a small boat for a 
chance to catch them. When they would get 
80 near that they thought they could grab them 
by the neck and pull them into the boat, down 
the geese would dive under water, and when 
they appeared again, they might come up ten to 
fifteen rods away. They are hard to kill in the 
water, and unless you kill at first shot, you are 
not sure of your game. The hunt was quite 
exciting, and occasionally the pilot would run 
us aground, and we would have to push off. 
But we got through and found our friend, and 
the boys had a good time for a day or two. 
Then we hired a man to row us over the lake, 
where we took stage across the country some 
ten miles to the Mississippi River, and crossed 
over to St. J^auL 



At that time there were but small towns on 
each side of the river with the falls between. 
Only a few sawmills and a gristmill were run 
from the power of the falls at that time. The 
river was so low that the few mills used the most 
of the water of the river, so that we crossed on 
the dam. But few people then thought it was 
to be the greatest mill plant in America, and 
St. Paul had no idea that Minneapolis would 
ever outdo it in business. We returned to St. . 
Paul and took in the scenery, finally taking 
stage to Faribault, Minn., and that region. 

Here we found a minister and his family 
of our acquaintance. He formerly lived and 
preached at Nile. We stopped with them over 
the Sabbath and a few days. His son and young 
Clark had quite a good time hunting sand-hill 
cranes. We paid the preacher a few dollars 
to drive us several miles to a stage route that 
would take us to Rochester, Minn. There 
we bade him good-by, thanking him for his 
kindness. He returned, and we were soon in 
the stage for Rochester. We stopped over a 



day or two, and found several people there who 
formerly lived in Allegany County, N. Y. We 
had a good visit with them. They all felt 
pleased with their prospects, as they had just 
completed a railroad from Winona to that 
place. We took the first train back to Winona, 
which is located on the Mississippi River. Here 
also we found old acquaintances from Allegany 

We crossed the river into Wisconsin, and 
went by rail north toward Grand Kapids as 
near as we could go; then by stage to Marquette 
County, stopping at Cartwright to look up 
friends; thence by stage to Portage, where we 
took cai-s for Milwaukee and Chicago, only 
stopping a few days; thence by the Lake Shore 
Railroad to Toledo, Cleveland, Dunkirk, Sala- 
manca, Olean, Friendship, and home. We had 
a pleasant trip, and found all well, and our 
friends glad to see us. 



The Democratic party had split, the two fac- 
tions being called Hunkers and Barnburners. 
One part was proslavery and for the extension 
of slavery, the other against the extension. 
The Whigs were divided, one part being called 
Silver-gravs, the other Woolly-heads, — one pro- 
slavery, and the other antislavery. Each old 
party was anxious to keep in power, and thus 
was ready to compromise over the slavery ques- 
tion for the sake of the Southern vote. 

The Southern States were growing jealous 
of the Northern States. They had asked for 
a vote representation ou their slaves, which 
was granted by allowing the slaveholders three 
votes for every five slaves and one for them- 
selves. But this did not satisfy them. Xext 
they asked for the Missouri Compromise line 
to be repealed, so that they might extend 
slavery into Kansas and all new territories. 
This was granted, and then the struggle began 
in earnest, for the slaveholders began moving 
their slaves into Kansas, and the free-State men 



from the Northern States began to rush into 
Kansas with a view to make it a free State, 
helping the slaves on to Canada, where they 
became free. This maddened the slavery 
States, and they then demanded a fugitive 
slave law. The law was granted under Fill- 
more's administration, and was indorsed by 
both old parties. This made every man a 
slave catcher if called upon to help catch 
runaway slaves, and made every man a criminal 
that fed, harbored, or in any way aided or 
abetted a runaway slave, making him liable 
to fine and imprisonment. This was too great 
a pill for the Northern people to swallow, and 
they largely refused to obey the law. The 
slaves continued to run away by the thousands. 
The South began to threaten secession 
and disunion, and soon the border ruffian 
war began in Kansas in earnest. President 
Buchanan sent soldiers there to keep the peace. 
He also sent three governors there to govern 
the people ; they all turned in favor of the 
free-State men. Some pretty hard fighting took 
place, near Ossawatomie, and one of John 
Brown's sons was killed there, which nearly 
crazed John Brown himself, and made him 
more desperate against the whole system of 
slavery. The soldiers had captured ten of the 


free-State men, and held them as prisoners in 
camp up on the prairie near Lecompton, near 
where they first decided to build the capitol 

Lawrence seemed to be the headquarters for 
the free-State men and was the home of Jim 
Lane and several of my acquaintances. Jim 
Lane was a dare-devil sort of man. He called 
for thirty volunteers, and he would have our 
ten prisoners back. His call was immediately 
filled, and tliey were on the move, following 
up the river. They kept concealed among the 
bluffs until they neared Lecompton, when they 
marched up a gulch that led up near in front 
of the soldiers' camp, where they formed in 
line, sent a flag of truce to their camp, and de- 
manded our prisoners, as they were prepared to 
take them by force. The soldiers, thinking 
they had a large force back in the gulch, de- 
livered the men, and Lane marched his men 
and prisoners back to Lawrence, leaving the 
rebel army to meditate over the game Lane had 
played upon them. Lane was really the leader 
at the head of danger against all border ruffian 

The Missourians all along the border were 
in favor of the slave power, and made the free- 
State men a great amount of trouble. They 


held great grudges against the people of Law- 
rence, and were laying plans to capture the 
town. There was a large cornfield below 
Lawrence. They planned to cross the river 
below that field, there organize out of sight, 
and then move suddenly upon the town and 
capture it; but Jim and the leaders were on 
the watch. They placed some thirty or forty 
men out of sight between the town and the 
cornfield, and took about the same number 
and marched up the gulch or little valley that 
made up back of Mt. Horeb where their school- 
house building now stands, where they could 
keep out of sight, and unobserved spy out the 
situation on the plain below the cornfield. 
Just as the Missourians were about to move, the 
signal was given from Mt. Horeb, and the 
bullets poured down the mountain like hail, 
and the shots played through the cornfield as if 
two hailstorms had met, and the Missourians 
without orders made for the river and across 
as best they could, and concluded that there was 
not much hope in their case, for they had too 
many Yankees on their side. 



I wAts interested in the atfairs of Kansas. I 
had helped educate a young man at Alfred, a 
cousin of my wife. He was graduated from 
that school, and married a young lady that was 
graduated also. They decided to go to Kansas 
Territory to settle. He had means enough to 
get them there, and to pay for 160 acres at 
governujent price. I advanced him i^l.OOO to 
get under way at farming. Of course I was 
interested in the situation, as to how he was 
likely to succeed, and as to how the question of 
slavery was to be decided in the Territory. 

I started for that country, arriving at St. 
Louis Nov. 30, 1859. I took passage on a 
steamer up the Mississippi River to Hannibal, 
thence by Hannibal and St. Joseph Railroad to 
St. Joseph. 

I chanced to form an acquaintance with one 
Dr. A. S. Fredrick, a slaveholder from Ken- 
tucky, and as I speak of him, I speak of him as a 
gentleman. I had the pleasure of his company 
from St. Louis to Leavenworth, Kan. He was 
ready to talk on the slavery question, temper- 



ance, and all reformatory matters, without get- 
ting excited. When he learned tliat I kept the 
seventh-day Sabbath, he seemed to take greater 
interest in me, and said, " I once had a girl to 
teach in my family two years, from Allegany 
County, that kept the Sabbatli, by the name 
of Miss Elvira Kenyon; and she was a fine 
girl, too. You may have known something of 
her.'' ''Certainly. Her parents live only one 
mile fronj me when I am at home.'' He said: 
" As you know my friends and I know yours, 
now we will be friends. How far are you travel- 
ing?"' ''I am going to Kansas." "That is 
where I am going. Now we will keep to- 
gether." He was a very pleasant man to 
travel with. 

We arrived at St. Joseph early in the even- 
ing, and put up at the largest hotel. This was 
the evening of the night before John Brown 
was to be hanged. Great excitement existed, 
and the barroom was crowded with border 
rufiians and the lower class of slaveholders, 
swearing they could kill more d d abolition- 
ists than anyone else, and flourishing their dirks 
and pistols. We worked our way through the 
crowd to the register's office, and registered our 
names. The doctor said: " Lanphear, follow 
me." The sitting room was a long way oft' at 


the end of the barroom. The doctor started 
through the crowd. As lie went he slapped 
every man in his wa}% sajing, " Get out of the 
way, you rough trash;" and walked into the 
sitting-room and sat down. '^ There, Lanphear, 
that is the way to go it in the slave States. 
This rough trash will never touch a gentleman; 
they know better." 

The slave to be hanged the next day was a 
young colored boy nineteen years old, naturally 
very smart. He had made up his mind to run 
away, as they were selling many of the smart 
slaves to go to the Southern States, where they 
could not run away so easily. He and another 
slave were making their arrangements to run 
away soon, and had managed to get each a 
pistol for their defense. This boy carried his 
with him all the time, and had it with him when 
he was sold and delivered to his new master. 
His new master took him into his buggy to 
take him to the place where he collected his 
slaves. He gave the lines to the slave and told 
him to drive the horse. The boy took the lines, 
and they passed on until his master dropped 
to sleep. The slave thought, now was his time, 
if ever. He drew his pistol and put a bullet 
through the head of his master and killed him 
dead. He left for the woods and secreted him- 


self until after dark, and then attempted to 
follow the north star for freedom. But after 
a few nights he lost his compass and got con- 
fused and wandered about until he was finally 
arrested and taken back. He once broke jail 
and ran away again; but was overtaken, taken 
back, tried, and found guilty of murder, and 
was to be hanged the day that John Brown 
was hanged in Virginia for treason against that 
State government. 

Not caring to see the slave hanged, the next 
morning we took stage for Leavenworth, Kan. 
Arriving there I found an Allegany young man 
clerking in an office, and I decided to stop 
there a few days. The doctor was going an- 
other way. So we had a good-by talk. He in- 
vited me to come and see him and stay a week 
if I ever came to Kentucky, and it should not 
cost me a cent. He said he would like to have 
me see how his girls and boys (slaves) lived. 
He said that he had never separated man and 
wife, or sold a child from his parents, nor he 
never would. He did not believe in the slave 
system, but they were entailed to him, and he 
was under obligation to take care of them. His 
slaves did not care to run away and leave him. 
He kept their houses either painted or white- 
washed, and made them keep them clean. 



The war had subsided in Kansas as far as 
bloodshed was concerned, and now the fight 
was as to whether the Territory should be ad- 
mitted as a slave or a free State. Three con- 
stitutions had been drawn up, — one for free 
State, one for slavery, and one conditional, etc. 
While I was there, Abraham Lincoln came 
over from Illinois and lectured two nights in a 
large temporary hall for the occasion, in favor 
of making it a free State. This was the first 
time I ever saw Lincoln, although I felt ac- 
quainted with him from reading his lectures 
when stumping his own State with S. A. Doug- 
las. They were great friends, though differing 
in politics. The interest among the people 
caused a large turn-out among the settlers all 
along the borders. 

Lincoln looked like a great, tall greenhorn 
as he appeared upon the platform. But he 
walked back and forth on the platform for five 
or ten minutes as if he was trying to fool the 
people until he began to warm up; then he let 
himself out on the enormity of the sin of slav- 



ery as he probably had never done before. 
The pictures he drew were soul searching. 
Though he did not propose to interfere with 
slavery where it existed, the idea of making 
free territory slave States was awfully wicked, 
and contrary to the spirit of our national Con- 
stitution and Declaration of Independence. He 
was a master hand to tell stories in his lectures. 
He could almost draw tears from the hardest 
sinner's eyes, and in the next story might bring 
cheer after cheer from the saddest heart. The 
South had already thrown out threats of seces- 
sion and rebellion; but in regard to that he 
said there was no more of that than "there was 
of soup made of a starved-to-death chicken." 
He had not then even thought of ever becom- 
ing president of the United States. But the war 
spirit increased, and James Buchanan was then 
president and an old-bachelor Democrat, and 
did not claim to know of any law to check or 
put down a rebellion. But fortunately for our 
country, while parties were quarreling over 
supremacy, Lincoln was nominated and elected. 
This was an awful dissatisfaction to the South- 
ern States, and Lincoln found that he had a 
bigger chicken soup on his hands than he had 
dreamed of when he made his speeches in 


But Kansas was admitted as a free State 
and settlers rushed into the State. Although 
it had rather a hard time for a few years 
from the effects of drought and grasshoppers, 
yet no new State has ever been prospered more 
than Kansas, and this past year it has raised 
a greater crop of corn than ever before, or than 
any other State in the Union has raised in 
one year. 

I left Leavenwortli for Lawrence. 1 dropped 
a note to my friend that I expected to arrive 
at Lawrence by stage the next day, that he 
might meet me there and take me to his home 
one and a half miles from Lawrence out on the 
prairie. He met me with a big sixteen-hands 
team and a large farm wagon. One of the 
horses was a large bay that was captured by 
John Brown from a border rufiian Missourian 
that came over during the attack against the 
free-State men. Brown kept the horse as his 
saddle horse until the Kansas war subsided 
and the old owner came over and claimed his 
horse. My friend purchased the horse to 
match a large one he had, and many a ride did 
I take about the country after that large team 
while I remained in Kansas. At that time I 
ate my first buffalo steak at the first brick hotel 
at Lawrence. At this time the Indians, male 


and female, could be seen galloping over the 
prairies of Kansas, and many a stamping ground 
of the buffalo could be found that was stamped 
so hard that it was next to impossible to break 
it up with a four-horse team. We were driven 
up to Lecompton, where Lane captured his ten 
free-State men from the army. 

Previous to this the people had decided to 
make Lecompton the capital of the State, and 
quite a quantity of material had been delivered 
on the ground for buildings; but the settlers 
began to come into the State so fast that 
they changed their minds, and moved it to 
Topeka, — a fine decision for the State. Things 
had become quiet in the State, although the 
proslavery men seemed to hold a grudge 
against the free State men and abolitionists that 
aided and abetted the free-State men by fur- 
nishing them with guns and ammunition to 
fight their battles for freedom. It is a ques- 
tion whether they would have succeeded as well 
as they did had it not been for the help tley 
received from Gerrit Smith and other abolition- 
ists. But I must 'leave Kansas for the time 



We took stage to Kansas City and stopped 
overnight. It was then a city "f shanties and 
tents, scattered among the bluffs between the 
two rivers, the Kansas and the Missouri. Only 
one street had then been graded'. I staid over- 
night and took the stage for Independence, Mo. 

On that day there was a slave sale. South- 
ern slaveholders came to the more northern slave 
States to purchase new stocks of slaves, as 
Northern drovers purchase cattle. The North- 
ern slaveholders would sell off the smartest 
slaves for fear they would run away, and aid 
each other in running away. They were accus- 
tomed to lock up the smart slaves nights to keep 
them from getting together to lay plans for run- 
ning away. The slaves got an idea that John 
Brown was hanged for their liberty, and they 
were much harder to manage than before. The 
place of sale was in front of the courthouse. 
The negroes were herded in a log hut back of 
the courthouse, and were brought forward in 
turn as they were wanted to be sold, and placed 
upon a goods box. 


The sale passed off quietly until the last one 
for the day, which was a little girl nearly as 
white as common white children, and only six 
years old. As the child was brought forward 
and placed upon the box, the mother was al- 
lowed to follow to within twenty or twenty-five 
feet of the auction block to take the last look 
of her child. The sale started off at two hun- 
dred dollars. The auctioneer went on to give 
the fine qualities, and what a nice gentleman's 
lady waiter she would make when she grew up, 
etc. The price ran up to six hundred dollars, 
and the hammer dropped. " Gone, gone at 
six hundred dollars ! '' And as the hammer 
dropped the mother dropped in a faint, while the 
child reached out its hands, with a cry of " One 
more kiss, mamma." The mother was dragged 
back into the hut, and the child was taken away. 

This was a scene of common occurrence and 
had often been practiced by and under the laws 
of the United States, that professed to be a free 
country. To me it was one of the most awful 
sins and scenes that had occurred in my tiavels 
in the slave States. But I observed that the 
scene touched the hearts of some, even of the 
slaveholders. And I must say that it was hard 
for a man that had a soul of humanity in him, 
to hold in. 


The next day eight of us got into the stage 
for Boonville, — all Southerners but one, besides 
myself. It was a cool, clear, December day, 
but the government furnished fine and com- 
fortable stages. As we got inside, and were 
about ready to start off, an officer came to the 
driver and delivered a poor sick slave and pa- 
pers for delivery to a new owner at Boonville. 
The poor fellow was ordered to climb upon top 
of the stage for his journey. Off went our four 
mule teanj on the jump for the next ten-mile 
station. It was a beautiful country of rivulets, 
with clear water flowing over pebbles as clear 
as a crystal, with beautiful oaks, and '* it was 
called the blue-grass region '' I said, "This 
looks as if it might be a fine stock country." 
'' Yes," says one, "they raise mules, hogs, and 
niggers here." By this time our company be- 
came quite sociable. (By the way, the South- 
erner is inclined to be quite sociable and liberal 
hearted.) The question of the slave sale of the 
day before came up. An old Frenchman spoke 
of the sale of the child that was sold from its 
mother, and said, " That was too cruel for any- 
thing. I don't own slaves, but if I did, I never 
would separate parents and children, or hus- 
band and wife. But I do not believe in slavery 


As we passed along, one said, ''There, near 
that tree, a slave was once burned to death at a 
stake for only what hundreds of slaveholders 
have done and gone clear." By this time the 
poor slave on top of the stage had the ague so 
that he fairly made the stage rattle, and all save 
one pitied him so that we thought we ought to 
let him get inside. But ''No," said the one, 
"I will not ride in a stage with a nigger any 
day." But finally we persuaded him to let him 
get in. After a time he began to warm up so 
that he could talk. He was ragged and dirty. 
One said, " Why don't you wash yourself and 
put on clean clothes? " " Me can't; I so sick, 
and I have no clean clothes" ''Why don't 
your master see to it?'' '' OhI master don 
care for a poor nigger if they do freeze to 
death.'' "Where are you going?" "Don't 
know; master say I go to Boonville and new 
master take me dare." 

We were nearing the last station before Boon- 
ville, and we stopped for a change of horses. 
As we entered for a start, I observed that one 
of our company brought in a bottle of brandy. 
He was seated opposite me. After a little he 
opened his bottle and passed it to me. I said, 
" You will have to excuse me, as I don't use it." 
We had talked over matters of reforms North 


and South quite freely and pleasantly. He 
passed the brandy on to the next one, and the 
next excused himself, and so it passed on 
around, and all refused, and my friend was 
mad, concluding that all refused because I did, 
and said: " ])o you think you are a better man 
than I am, that you should refuse to drink with 
me?" "Not at all, not at all. I have been 
brought up dift'erently, probably," Now a dis- 
cussion foUowed on the drink question, and 
everyone took sides with me that I was right, 
and said: "If we had always let it alone, we 
might have been well off now in the world." 
The poor fellow got over his pet, and was 
ashamed of his bottle, and did not know what 
to do with it. But before we got to Boonville, 
he slid the curtain carefully, and dropped it out 
into the street. 

One of my companions said to me, "I will 
show you one of the most beautiful slaves you 
ever saw when we get to Boonville." We 
finally arrived where we were to put up over- 
night. The poor slave was delivered, and we 
entered the hotel, which was a good one for the 
first on this route. Supper was ready, and we 
partook of a good meal. We returned to the 
gentleman's room, and my companion said: 
"Have you seen the slave I spoke of yet? 


Have yoii not noticed the lady that waited on 
us at the table ^ She is a slave.'' "Why, she 
is whiter than I am. Can it be possible ? " 
"Yes, and she belongs to the landlord, and he 
has been offered one thousand dollars for her." 
" Is it not a fair price for a slave ? " "Yes, but 
to be plain about it, he does not like to sell his 
own daughter. He intends to set her free some- 
time.'' "But suppose he should die before he 
did that, what then'C " " Then she would have 
to be sold with his estate, and if that should be 
so, nearly all the aristocratic slaveholders would 
be on hand to bid on her, and possibly would 
bid her up to five thousand dollars for her 

We passed on to Jefferson City, the capital, 
and as the Legislature was in session, we 
stopped a few days. 



As the Legislature was in session we con- 
cluded to stop a few days. The slavery ques- 
tion was the topic of everyone, as slaves were 
running away nearly every day, and getting 
more bold, and some of the whites were afraid 
they would rise against the whites and against 
their masters, and really danger was already 
here. At that time there were five representa- 
tives in the Legislature that could neither read 
nor write; and it was said that thirteen in the 
Texas Legislature could not do either. 

While I was stopping there a bill was intro- 
duced to drive every free colored man out of 
the State, of whom there were many, and some 
of them were wealthy and highly respected. 
One I learned of was a slave at St. Joseph 
previous to this time. About the time they 
were making up companies to go to California 
in pursuit of gold, his master asked him if he 
would like to go with the company and dig gold. 
" Yes, massa, I go if you want me to; if de com- 
pany wish me to go with them.'^ He fitted him 
out, and he went with the company. He was 



gone four years, and came back and brought 
his master one thousand four hundred dollars 
in gold. For his integrity his master gave 
him his freedom, and gave him a small planta- 
tion near St. Joseph. At the time I was there 
he was furnishing more produce for the town 
than any other man. One man that was stop- 
ping at the same hotel with me said he would fight 
for that man as long as he had a drop of blood 
left before he should be driven out of the State. 
But the bill passed both houses, and it required 
every free colored man to leave the State in ten 
months after the passage of the bill, or he 
should be sold into slavery again. But it so 
happened that a young man who lived in 
Belfast, Allegany Co., N. Y., left there years 
ago, and went to Missouri, and they had elected 
him governor of their State, and he vetoed the 

I left the capital for Tipton with a view to 
take the cars from there to St. Louis, as 
they had a railroad that far West. This was 
a sort of headquarters for gathering slaves that 
were sold to be taken South. As the train was 
starting out, I discovered that they had a 
car load of slaves attached to the train. We 
took the liberty to pass through the train to 
view the condition of the slaves. Some of 


them were jolly and making the best of their 
situation; others were sad, ragged, and in tears; 
and others were dressed in silks and satins, 
especially the white and yellow girls, as they 
were for different markets, and dressed by their 
owners to make them attractive. I learned of 
many wicked practices by slaveholders, and 
other men, with young slaves on the journey. 
At St. Louis I took the cars for Cincinnati, 
Ohio, where I crossed over into Kentucky to 
look for a friend by the name of Bailey, who 
edited a paper called the Free South. I found 
my friend, but a few nights before a proslavery 
mob had raided him, and tumbled his press and 
type into the Licking Kiver. He never was 
able to issue his paper again. Some that are 
now living, will remember that Cassius M. 
Clay was a victim of the rebel mob, and his 
press tumbled into the Ohio River. I passed 
on through several States to Washington. This 
was during the holidays. It was customary for 
the slaves to have a week of rest and visiting, 
and go to the trains to bid good-by to others 
that had been sold to go to other States where 
they did not expect to ever see each other 
again. Wives and husbands were to part; 
brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, were 
shaking hands with each other, with a "God 


bless joiJ,'' and as the trains would pass out 
from the station, rows would stand along the 
line waving good-by with their hands, while 
tears could be seen trickling down their cheeks- 
All this was in our so-called Christian country. 

Well, we have improved some on what I 
have described since our war; but other evils 
exist that have taken the place of slavery, and 
we old men are asking ourselves, Will the 
country and the professed Christian church ever 
dispossess our country of political corruption 
at such an expense as it cost us to rid ourselves 
of the curse of slavery ? Certainly it is a 
greater curse than slavery ever was; for it 
destroys both souls and bodies of men. 

I arrived at Washington and stopped over 
one week, as Congress was then in session, and 
the war spirit was running high; but I could 
not tarry long, as I was wanted at home. I 
went by way of New York, and soon was at 
home again. 



Our countrj had ere this time been splitting 
up politically both North and South, and good 
men were discussing the question as to the need 
of a new party upon which all Union men might 
work together for reform and the maintaining 
of the Union. One A. X. Cole, of Allegany 
County, N. Y., the county in which I resided, 
called a convention of all Union men to meet 
at Friendship to consider this question of a new 
party upon which all Union men could agree. 
He was the editor of the Free Press of that 
county. The convention was not a large one; 
but of the best men of our county. They came 
together in the Baptist church in that town. 
They organized, and discussed the situation, 
passed resolutions of principles that they all 
could indorse. But they had no name for the 
party. It was suggested that we draft our prin- 
ciples, send tliem down to Horace Greeley, and 
tell him that we had indorsed them as principles 
for a new party, but had no name for it. He 
said, '' Call it Republican,'' and it was so or- 
dered. He indorsed the same, and advertised 



it in the Trihune. Here is wliere the Repub- 
lican party started. It was antislavery in senti- 
ment, but did not propose to interfere with 
slavery where it then existed, but utterly op- 
posed its extension; it was also for maintain- 
ing the union of the States. 

Freemont was its first nominee for president, 
but was defeated by Buchanan, the Democratic 
candidate; but the Republican vote was so 
large that the South saw plainly that the trend 
of the people was toward sustaining the Union, 
and against the threatened rebellion. Buchanan 
show^ed weakness, and rather favored Southern 
democracy, and his cabinet plainly showed their 
favoritism, and they and the president seemed 
to be in sympathy that way, and rather aided 
the Southern States in getting in possession of 
our Southern forts and the power of the nation's 
defense. South Carolina declared herself inde- 
pendent of the national government, and one 
State after another seceded, declaring them- 
selves independent. The Republicans fortu- 
nately nominated Abi-aham Lincoln for presi- 
dent. The Democrats w^ere divided, and put 
two candidates in the field. Thus Lincoln was 
elected. Secession was declared, and the South 
organized as independent States under a presi- 
dent and congress of their own make. Bu- 


chaiian made no special effort to put clown the 
rebellion, and in his weakness said he knew of 
no ''law'' to put down a rebellion. 

The siege of war was begun. Fort Sumter 
was fired upon, and the possessors were not able 
to defend it, and were compelled to surrender 
it. Before Lincoln could get seated in Wash- 
ington as president, the rebels were in readiness 
to capture the capital and take possession of 
the capitol. The situation was unfavorable for 
Lincoln, but he issued a call for seventj-tive 
thousand men as volunteers. He was illy pi-e- 
pared to use the men when called, but the 
excitement was w^onderful, both North and 
South. Volunteers were in readiness all over 
the North. 

I had occasion to go to Boston, and was 
there when the Fourth Artillery and Seventh 
Kegiment organized, and stai'ted out for 
Washington. They had a drill on the com- 
mons, and a sham tight with great enthusi- 
asm, and than a rest for an hour, when hun- 
dreds of women and young wives came to the 
commons to see their husbands and friends off to 
the war. The scene was a sad one, when young 
wives appeared on the green, with plates of food, 
and spread their little spreads on the ground 
and placed their cakes and pies there, and set 


the baby down by their side; and when the 
order was given to rest, men leaped like deer 
to their sides, and there ate and wept together 
until the bugle blast came, '' To arms, to arms." 
Every man to his feet, a kiss to the wife and 
the baby, and a good-by, and like wild deer 
they leaped for their places, when they were 
soon in the ranks and on their way for the 
battlefield, casting a backward look, not know- 
ing whether they should meet again on earth. 
Two long trains of cars were in readiness to 
take them on to Washington to defend their 

The Bull Run battles followed with defeat 
to our forces; and every friend of his country 
seemed sad, and many a cowardly man said : 
*' We can never conquer the rebels and put 
down the rebellioi)." I left Boston on the 
train with the soldiers as far as Albany, and 
then took another train to Geneva, N. Y., to 
visit my sister and family for a week or so. 
They were getting up a regiment of volunteers 
there at that time. As the news of defeats 
came, groups of men were gathered to talk 
over the probabilities, and you could tell the 
politics of men by their faces, and whether they 
favored the rebels or the Union army. While 
listening to the conversation, a smart-looking 


colored man stood by listening, and said, "Do 
you suppose that God is going to let this 
rebellion end yet ? Why, they have not reached 
the cause of the war 3^et, and he will not end 
this war until my people are reached. Even 
the Republican party does not propose to 
liberate the slaves, neither are they willing to 
receive a colored man as a volunteer yet, and 
many a man says he will not fight by the side 
of a nigger." But the war continued, and 
thousands were shot down, and were dying in 
the swamps with malaria and other diseases. 

I returned home; great excitement prevailed 
everywhere, and calls for volunteers were being 
made all about me. 



My brother and nephew, and some twenty or 
more of my neighbors, volunteered in the 
Eighty-fifth New York Volunteers. Afterward 
my boy, that I had brought up from three years 
of age, became old enough to volunteer, and 
went on and joined the regiment. The boys 
decided that I ought to remain at home and look 
after their families. My brother had a wife and 
four children to leave behind. I decided to do 
so, and many soldiers made arrangements to 
send their money to me and have me look after 
their families, and deal out their money to them, 
and make it hold out as best I could to keep 
them comfortable if possible. Most of the 
women were imprudent, and some would use it 
up foolishly if all were paid over at once. 

Quite a number of the Eighty-fifth regiment 
were killed or wounded at the battle of P'air 
Oaks. My brother was wounded by the burst- 
ing of a shell, a piecs striking him on the side 
of his head, while two of his comrades were 
killed by his side; but as it was in the nighttime, 
he did not realize that he was wounded until 


daylight came, and all the scattered men of the 
Eightj-fifth were ordered to gather at a certain 
point in the morning. Then he was asked what 
was the matter with his head, as they saw the 
blood had been running down his back from his 
head. He took off his cap only to find a hole 
cut in his cap and quite a gash cut in his scalp. 
He had been so excited in the battle that he did 
not know he was wounded. 

Some of our boys were picked up by the reb- 
els, and lay for two months, helpless, without 
medical attendance. One lay there with a 
broken limb until the flies laid their eggs and 
hatched them. He was alive with worms, and 
yet he was able to write to his mother his con- 
dition. She sent another son to the rebel lines 
with her last gold dollar to offer to the rebels 
to allow him to go for her suffering son that 
was within their lines. He was permitted to 
take him away, and after he got him home, had 
his leg amputated and saved his life. I think 
the man is living now, a merchant in Pennsyl- 
vania, getting about on a wooden leg. 

I made a trip to Washington with a view to 
get a permit to go across their lines to bring or 
aid some of our boys to our lines, and if possi- 
ble to bring them home; but it was of no avail; 
they would not allow me to do it. I was at 


Washington when the permit was given to 
wounded and sick that were not able to do serv- 
ice to come home to vote. I was permitted to 
come on the train with them. It was a sad sight. 
Nearly every wound that could be thought of 
could be seen. One could be seen on a stretcher 
with his spine broken with a bullet. Another 
officer said that on going to the war he thought 
of being wounded in nearly every way; but the 
way he was finally wounded did not occur to 
him. A ball struck him on the side of his head 
and passed through his head just back of his 
eyes, knocking out both eyes from his head. 
His daughter had been on to care for him until 
he was able to be taken home. I might go on 
and mention the various wounds we had to care 
for; but this is enough to satisfy me that war 
is a cruel business, even in a professed Chris- 
tian land. 

We went by the way of Harrisburg, Pa., 
through to Elmira, and stopped there to change 
the soldiers on the various roads to their homes. 
They were taken into the depot there, some 
able to walk, some on stretchers, who were 
placed on the floor here and there, and one man 
able to walk about with both arms gone. Men 
would come in and look on the various victims 
of the war, and break down in tears, and some 


would go around and hand the poor fellows a 
few dollars, or shillings, as they chanced to have 
on hand. The poor fellows would receive it 
thankfully, with a "God bless you." But the 
poor man without arms and hands could not 
pocket a dime without help, and had to have a 
friend along to wait upon him and receive for 
him and feed him. 

But I here left the poor victims, and went on 
to my home. While I am writing up these 
notes of things that have transpired in a man's 
lifetime of eighty-two years, I think of the wars 
that have been going on for the last two years, 
and are still going on, and the hand our nation 
has taken and is taking in this death-dealing 
business. We ought to be ashamed to call our- 
selves a Christian nation. 



After the Eighty-fifth had fought nearly three 
years, their term of enlistment had nearly 
expired, the rebels surrounded them at New- 
bern, and the rebel ram, so-called, came down 
the river and completely cornered them in 
where there was no chance of escape. They 
were compelled to surrender or be cut to pieces 
with bullets. They surrendered, and were all 
marched to Andersonville prison. There were 
at one time thirty-four thousand prisoners in 
the stockade, without shelter or a shade tree to 
protect them from storm or the hot sun, and 
without the necessaries of life. Only seven 
out of the twenty-three of my neighbors and 
relatives that enlisted early in the war, that I 
referred to in a former chapter, ever lived to 
return home again. They were really starved 
to death. My brother and adopted son and a 
widow's son were among those that lived to 
return. They were all rather small eaters at 
home, and consequently could live on smaller 
rations. These boys had hard stories to relate 
after their return. Their regiment divided up 


into squads of about fifteen, and cooked their 
rations as best they could. The small eaters 
would divide up with the heartier eaters in order 
to help them along. There were usually two 
boys detailed from their regiment to go out- 
side and into the woodland and cut wood and 
bring it back into the stockade for them to 
whittle up into shavings to cook their food. 
They were under restrictions not to talk with 
any outsider or the slaves. 

This is the story of the widow's son: "We 
had to go half to three fourths of a mile for our 
wood. We would usually cut a chunk about as 
large as each could carry, and take it on our 
shoulders, and march to and inside the stock- 
ade. We went to the woods one day and found 
a young creature feeding around in the bushes. 
We caught the creature and killed it, and we 
carried that whole creature to the boys and did 
not get caught at it. We cut the creature up 
into pieces. We would cut off the butt of a 
tree, split it into halves, chop out the inside in 
shape of a trough, put the meat inside, and 
then put the log together with grape vines, to together. Then we shouldered it and 
marched into the stockade as honestly as starv- 
ing boys could consistently be under the cir- 


Another time when out, they came across a 
colored man with a bag of peanuts on his 
shoulder. They inquired of him as to what he 
had in his bag, and learned that he had pea- 
nuts. They proposed to purchase them, and 
offered him some little notions they had in 
their pockets; and he decided to let them have 
the peanuts. But the next thing was to get 
them to the boys and not get caught at it. 
But necessity is the mother of invention. They 
cut down a hollow tree, cut off a chunk at the 
butt, turned in the peanuts, stuffed in some 
rotten wood on top, mudded over the wood, 
shouldered the chunk of log, and marched in 
as usual without suspicion. While the meat 
and nuts lasted, the boys fared pretty well. 

The stockade got so crowded that they decided 
to remove some of the prisoners to Charleston 
prison, and a notice was given that all prisoners 
of the Eighty-fifth that were able to move would 
be taken. Some had died, and some were too 
feeble. My nephew had the scurvy so badly 
that he could not walk; but he did not wish to 
be left, so my brother dragged him into the 
open cars and took him along. At the Charles- 
ton prison the women were allowed to visit the 
soldiers, and by their nursing he improved and 
got upon his feet again. But soon the order 


came that thej were to be moved to FloreDce 
prison, South Carolina. Here he ran down 
and soon died, and hundreds died there, and I 
never knew where ray friends' bones were laid. 
The living were kept in prison nearly eleven 
months before they were exchanged, and when 
that was done they were taken to Charleston to 
be shipped to Washington. They were nearly 
starved to death, and some had to be dragged 
into the boat. They were so starved that it 
was not thought best to give them but little to 
eat at first, for fear they would kill themselves 
eating. So they gave nothing but raw pork at 
first, as that would satisfy them very quickly. 
Many of tliem ate themselves to death when 
they got to Washington and got their money. 
I remember well how the poor boys looked when 
they arrived at their homes, — ^not much but 
skin and bones. Their hands looked more like 
birds' claws than human hands. 



The prison consists of a lot containing about 
"fifteen acres, inclosed by a stockade made of 
hewn timbers, set in the ground close together, 
of sufficient depth to make them firm, and reach- 
ing about fifteen feet above the ground. Xear 
the top of these timbers once in eight or ten 
rods, is erected a scaft'old for a sentinel post. 
The entrances to this paradise are two massive 
double gates, at two difterent points. On the 
inside there is a dead line, consisting of strips 
of boards nailed to posts about three feet high 
all the way around, twenty feet from the stock- 
ades. The penalty for crossing the line is death, 
if the sentinel is a good marksman. Tlieir 
orders are to shoot all who cross without chal- 
lenging them. Four were shot dead, to my 
knowledge, and many others fired at and 
wounded. Near the center of the prison from 
north to south is a small stream of water, run- 
ning from west to east, which divides the camp 
nearly in the middle, making two distinct camps. 
This stream is from three to six feet wide, and 

1 J'liis cliapt er was written on scrMi)s of paper by my brother 
wliile in prison, and sent home to me at his lirst opportunity. 



runs quite rapidly. On the margin of the 
stream, the ground is soft and swampy for a 
number of rods on each side, and in many 
places it is impassable for man or beast. From 
the borders of the swamp, the ground com- 
mences to rise quite abruptly, making the camp- 
ing grounds steep hillsides; so much so that 
considerable digging is required for a man to 
get into a horizontal position. 

About the condition of the men in this in- 
closure: soon after my arrival with the other 
Plymouth (N. C.) prisoners, I ascertained that 
there were about twelve thousand men confined 
here. Those who had been lucky enough to 
save a blanket, could erect a kind of shelter to 
protect them somewhat from the sun and storms; 
those who had them not, had to do without, as 
the rebels furnished nothing in the line of shel- 
ter, except for hospitals, which were very lim- 
ited, as in the order of things inside. The men 
were counted off into detachments of two hun- 
dred and seventy each, and these were divided 
into three messes of ninety each, under the com- 
mand or supervision of a sergeant, who drew 
their rations, and got them out to roll call in the 
morning, when the rebel sergeant came around 
to see if any were missing. As to regulations 
there were none; brute strength was king, and 


consequently a great deal of fighting was going 
on to see who was governor. Robbing, steal- 
ing, etc., were everyday occurrences. Gam- 
bling of many kinds could be seen at any time 
or any place in the camp. There were regularly 
organized gangs of raiders, who made it a busi- 
ness to prowl about nights, and take by force 
things they could find; but occasionally they 
were caught, and handled pretty roughly. The 
water in the stream mentioned was used for 
drinking, cooking, washing clothes, and every- 
thing that water is needed for; and at any hour 
of the day, from one hundred to five hundred 
men could be seen crowded around the stream, 
striving to get a little of one of the free ele- 
ments of nature. In consequence of the diffi- 
culty of getting water, and lack of perseverance, 
many gave up washing at all. Such could 
hardly be distinguished from colored men (of 
which there were a few here). The camps were 
not properly policed. Sinks were not prepared, 
every place was a nuisance, and the swamp was 
a pest hole not to be described by the English 
language. The average deaths per day, while 
the hospitals were kept inside, was about twenty, 
mostly old prisoners, who wintered in Richmond. 
I entered this place on the 30th day of April, 
1864. The first week our rations consisted of a 


large pint of coarse unsifted corn meal, a quarter 
of a pound of raw bacon, and a teaspoonful of 
salt per day, for each man. No dishes or wood 
was furnished us to cook these. But the most 
of us had a tin cup, so that by paying five cents 
for a small armful of wood, we managed to live. 
After about one week the rebels had prepared a 
cook house outside, so that we got cooked ra- 
tions about half of the time. When we drew 
cooked rationp, we got about a pound and a 
half of corn bread made of half-ground meal, 
and the husks thrown in, and about the same 
amount of bacon as before. A portion of the 
time we got mush in lieu of bread, and once 
each week beans or rice, which were very filthy 
looking. I never ate any of them, and saw but 
few that did, who had money to buy anything 
else with. Twice a month, the first month only, 
we drew a substance called soap, which no one 
would suspect from its looks. Three men drew 
enough to wash one shirt. About the 20th day 
of May, the number of prisoners had increased 
to sixteen or seventeen thousand, making it 
very crowded. The hospitals were moved out- 
side. The bread rations were reduced nearly 
one half, making it a pretty close thing to live. 
There was a class of old prisoners who had 
established a trade with the guards and outsid- 


ers, bj whicli some necessaries were brought in 
for sale. I will give the prices of a few of 
them, as sold by one prisoner to another, for 
greenbacks: Eggs, $8 to $4 per dozen; onions, 
fair size, $1 each; salt, two spoonfuls for 25 
cents; flour, 75 cents per pint; ginger cakes, 
not weighing a quarter of a pound, 50 cents; 
molasses, $1.50 a pint, and an inferior article of 
soap, fS2 to $5 per bar, etc. In Confederate 
money the cost was five times the amount men- 
tioned. By the 8th of June, the number of 
prisoners had increased to twenty thousand, I 
think. It seemed as if every available foot of 
ground was occupied. It was almost impossi- 
ble to get through the camp on account of the 
crowd, and to make things much worse, it rained 
every day during the first twenty-three days of 
June, and the camp was flooded the most of the 
time. Thousands had to lie down in mud and 
water to sleep, when they were exhausted, which 
in all probability cost hundreds of lives. 

About this time some improvements were 
made. Our rulers opened their hearts, and 
offered men (prisoners) double rations if they 
would ditch the swamp, prepare sinks, and do 
other police duty, the filthiest of all work. But 
there were hungry men enough to do it, and 
the condition of things in some respects im- 


proved. Several prisoners made their escape 
while we were confined there, — some by tun- 
neling under the stockade; some, with the aid of 
the guards, were drawn over the stockade by 
ropes; and still others were carried out on 
stretchers as dead. This the rebels think the 
worst Yankee trick of all. The captain in com- 
mand threatened to put a ball and chain on 
every man that died, until he found out whether 
he was dead or "playing possum." The most 
of these men were recaptured. The moment 
that a man is missed, a lot of bloodhounds are 
let loose on the track, and all the men in the 
neighborhood — not soldiers (which were not 
plenty), but old men — shoulder their shot- 
guns, mount their horses, and away to the 
chase. Such are the chances, that few get 
away. I saw some who were badly mangled 
by the hounds after being caught. They were 
surrounded, and the dogs of war set on them 
to gladden the heart of the Southern chivalry. 
The last of June found over twenty-six thou- 
sand men in the pen, and the condition of things 
can be imagined, but can not be told; for it 
was impossible for a man to get about the camp 
to see. The crowd was so great that the rebels 
did not pretend to come in to call the roll, and 
only came to the gates with rations. I learned 


from men who were in the hospitals that the 
average of deaths for the month of June was 
over thirty per day. The largest number in 
one day was sixty-four. In the month of June 
there was a sutler's shop established by the 
rebels on their side, near one of the gates, in 
which Hour, vegetables, soap, tobacco, etc., 
were sold. The prices did not vary much 
from those before mentioned. 

On the first of July, about one half of the 
prisoners were moved into a new stockade of 
about ten acres adjoining the old one on the 
north end. The first night the boys cut nearly 
all the divisions down, and carried them off for 
wood. The captain commanding the prisoners 
was very wrathy, and said that we should not 
have any more rations until the timber was 
carried back. But no one carried any back. 
We got rations only about half the time for a 
few days; but I think the reason was that they 
had none to give us, for what we did get seemed 
to be the sweepings of the cook-house, and not 
fit for a dog to eat. 

About this time, the raiders, or robbers and 
murderers, had became so bad that they would 
kill a man in broad daylight for his money. A 
man was nearly cut to pieces, and was just 
alive when carried out. The case was reported 


to the captain, who took the matter in hand, 
and said, "The raiders must be cleaned out, 
and no rations or anything else will be issued 
until they are delivered at the gate." He sent 
in the guards to protect the men in hunting 
and capturing them. There were enough men 
of principle to go into the thing, when they 
found that they would be protected by the 
authorities outside. They soon armed them- 
selves with clubs, and went in; and a lively 
time we had, for about two days, drumming them 
out. I think nearly one hundred were caught 
and delivered over. The leaders were put in 
stocks outside, and a jury of twelve men (ser- 
geants) was taken from among the prisoners to 
try them; and what they said should be done 
with them, should be carried out, so said the 
captain. It was reported that they were hanged, 
but the truth I do not know. Under the tents 
of some of them large amounts of money, 
watches, clothes, blankets, and two dead bodies 
of men that they had murdered, were found. 
After this it was quiet times, and the usual 
night cries of raiders were hardly heard. 

After writing the foregoing in regard to the 
leaders of the gang spoken of, I am prepared 
to give their destiny. On the 11th of July, a 
scaffold was built on the inside of the stockade, 


and at 5 r. m. six of them were brought into 
the gates by the captain under guard. He told 
the prisoners that the men had had a fair trial 
by their own men, and had been sentenced to 
be hanged. He would now deliver them over 
to the prisoners, and they could do as they saw 
fit with them; he would have no more to do 
with the matter. Accordingly they were deliv- 
ered over to the regulators, marched to the 
scaffold, and there before an audience of twenty- 
five thousand men, were all launched into 
eternity at one time. Two incidents occurred 
during the execution: one of the men refused 
to have his hands tied, broke away, and ran 
across the swamp; but he found willing hands 
to bring him back. He begged for his life, but 
found no mercy, and was hanged with the rest. 
The other incident was the breaking of one of 
the ropes, which let one man fall to the ground. 
He was soon swung up again. Thus six young 
men were launched into eternity, I think justly. 
They were allowed the benefit of the clergy, 
but had but very little to say. 

The first of August found nearly thirty-five 
thousand men here. The mortality for July 
and the first days of August was nearly one hun- 
dred per day. About the fifteenth of August 
the rebels seemed to be alarmed about an attack 


on the place; accordingly, about one hundred 
negroes were sent here to fortify it. Since 
then they have made it quite a stronghold, 
well supplied with artillery. 

On the ninth of August occurred the heaviest 
thunderstorm that I ever witnessed. It washed 
out the stockade in a number of places; the val- 
ley was full of water: sinks, wells, and every- 
thing washed out. It was an awful time; gut- 
ters four feet deep were cut through the camp, 
so that in places it was impossible to get around. 
Much suffering was caused, and a good deal of 
trouble to the rebels to watch the breaks and 
fix them up. When they found that the stock- 
ade was giving way, they commenced firing 
their artillery; and we had warning before, that 
if any attempt was made to break out, they 
would fire into the camp indiscriminately with 
grape and canister. No attempt to escape was 

The first of September finds some of us here 
still; but I think that over eight thousand have 
died during the month of August. The loss by 
deaths has not been made good by captures, so 
that there are less prisoners here than one'month 
ago. About the first of August they 4 com- 
menced issuing fresh bread to us, of a poor qual- 
ity, — about half rations, — but soon reduced 


it, SO that our rations consisted of a quarter of 
a pound of raw beef, an ounce of bacon, and 
half a pint of meal. To cook these, we had, 
for a week's rations, one stick of wood, four 
feet long and eight inches thick, not enough to 
cook one day. 

On the eleventh day of September, in com- 
pany with the most of our regiment, I left the 
prison at Andersonville, and went to Charles- 
ton, S. C. During our stay at Andersonville, 
out of four hundred and forty-two men one hun- 
dred and thirty died, and about fifty were left 
sick in the hospital, the most of whom, I doubt 
not, are dead ere this. Who is to answer for 
this great sin ? The most of these men were 
actually murdered, or starved to death. Medi- 
cine was not to be had nor proper food. I have 
heard men in their last agonies cry for some- 
thing to eat. I have sometimes thought that 
if it was in the power of some of our orthodox 
ministers to portray to their congregations the 
horror of this place as approximating that of 
hell, or a future place of punishment, the com- 
parison would result in immediate repentance 
on the part of their hearers. In conclusion, I 
will say, if there is a worse hell, may God in 
his mercy keep me from it. Of my further im- 
prisonment, I will say no more at present, hop- 


ingthat my government will do something soon 
to relieve us. N. Lanphear, 

Co. Sergt. Eighty-fifth N. Y. Y. 

Charleston, S. C, Sept. 20, I864. 

A separate letter of his says, "I think the 
most of the boys left are dead before now. Of 
the boys from Nile, all are dead but two. Silas 
Clark died October 28, and O. E. Lanphear, 
October 29. Two were left at Florence, S. C." 



'•It is not good that the man should be alone." 
Gen. 2 : 18. 

I HAD now been a widower nearly seven years, 
and had traveled much alone about our coun- 
try. I had many friends and relatives, and en- 
joyed visiting them; but when I got weary, I 
had no place or family to call my own, or my 
home. I was lonesome sometimes, and longed 
for some one to share my secrets. 

Mrs. Clark, the widow of my cousin, Dr. Paul 
Clark, had been living a widow some six years, 
and was now living alone, her son having gone 
away. I had always looked after lier, her hus- 
band's estate, and the boy and his interest. I 
stated to her that I was getting rather lonesome 
of living a single life, and hinted the question 
as to how it was with her. She said it did 
sometimes seem rather lonely. It did not take 
long to arrange for a wedding. We decided ta 
have it take place Aug. 23, 1865, at her home 
at Nile. At that time Rev. Thomas B. Brown, 
of Little Genesee, came over and tied the knot. 

Our arrangements were made to take a trip 
east. So that afternoon we took the cars to 

Thirty-five years ago." 


Elmira, N. Y. The next day we went to New 
York and stopped a few days; thence by 
steamer down the Sound to Stonington, Conn,, 
thence by cars to Westerly, and by team to Pot- 
ter's Hill, my birthplace. Here we attended the 
Seventh-day Baptist General Conference held 
at the First Hopkinton church near that place. 

We visited among our friends and relatives 
several days, and returned to New York. Go- 
ing to Plainfield, N. J., we visited friends there 
for a week or more. Plainfield then was only 
a small town; but the country was beautiful. 

We returned home at Nile not as lonesome 
as we were, and we began to lay plans some- 
what for travels after arranging our business. 



My brother older than myself had become a 
Seventh-day Adventist, and had withdrawn 
from the Seventh-day Baptist church. He had 
become an Elder in the Adventist church, and 
was an active member, usually attending the 
conference to which he belonged. His health 
had ratlier failed. Desiring to attend a confer- 
ence that was to be held in the northern part of 
the State of Xew York, he decided to drive his 
horse and sulky, thinking it might be for his 

All went well until he was about eight miles 
from Canandaigua, N. Y. As his horse was 
trotting along on a fair pace, the harness broke, 
and let the thills drop, which caused my brother 
to pitch forward over the dashboard. The horse 
being scared, kicked hini, and fractured one of 
his limbs, and otherwise hurt him, probably in- 
wardly. The people living near by took him in 
and sent for a physician. The doctor thought 
he would be able to return home in a few days 
on the cars. He sold his horse to pay his ex- 
penses. Expecting to go home soon, he thought 
better not to write, as that would worry his 


family and friends. He was soon out of his 
head, however, and died suddenly. He had 
not told them his name or where he lived. 

The neighbors came in with a minister and 
the doctor. They talked over the situation, to 
see what was best to be done. It was decided 
to get a coffin for him, and keep him a few 
days, to see if anything should come to light 
about him. It was suggested that they look 
over his clothes and papers in his traveling bag, 
and see if they could find hie name and where 
he was from. Fortunately, they found his name 
and address. They immediately telegraphed to 
his family. I was at church when the dispatch 
came. I hurried to the first train that left 
in the afternoon, and telegraphed to the man 
where he died that I was on my way. I went 
to Elmira, thence to Canandaigua by cars, and 
hired a team to take me to that place early in 
the evening. It was a sad time for me. 

The people were very kind, and ready to do 
all they could for me. I settled up all bills, 
and they took me and the corpse to Canan- 
daigua, where I had the corpse put in the morgue 
until morning for the first train to Elmira, in 
readiness for the early express for Friendship 
and Nile. I telegraphed at Elmira to Friend- 
ship that I would be there on the express. On 


arriving at Friendship, the people of Nile, with 
teams, and the undertaker were on hand to 
meet me, and escort me and friends to take the 
remains to his family and to his former home. 
The reception was a sad one to us all. The 
people turned out by hundreds to his funeral, 
as he was an old resident, and I don't think he 
had an enemy in the world. 

The funeral over, it was decided that I should 
settle his estate, and look after the interest of 
the family, as I was in that kind of business. 
He left a widow, three daughters, and a little 
son. I had difficulty with only one man, Elder 
Fuller. He had furnished my brother with 
many books, and brought in his bill of quite a 
large amount, stating that he had only charged 
the same as they charged him at the office at 
Battle Creek. He made affidavit to his bill, 
and I paid it; but I was satisfied in my mind 
that his bill was extravagant, so I copied the 
bill, and sent it to the office at Battle Creek, 
and they compared it with the original bill on 
their books. They saw readily that he had 
charged extravagantly, and made a false report. 
They immediately sent me a draft for the 
amount, and I think he was soon dismissed 
from their chui'ch. I always have had confi- 
dence in them for doing it. 



We left Allegany County by way of rail to 
Hornellsville, October, 1867. Here we changed 
our course, taking the first train to Portage, and 
OS on to Buffalo. Not having much spare time, 
we only made short sketches and observations 
in that city. However, we learned that Buffalo 
was quite a grain market, and that much was 
done in the cattle business from the West, and 
we should judge that Buffalo had few equals in 
the use of ''lager beer." 

We left Buffalo by way of the Central Rail- 
road to Albany. Here we put up at Stanwix 
Hall. Having a little leisure, the convention 
being in session, we visited that body at the 
capitol buildings. They seemed quite busy in 
writing, reading, and making short speeches, 
and one might think they were working for 
some great object; yet in accomplishments we 
could not see it. Feeling that we had no power 
to control such a body, we took passage on the 
Hudson River Railroad for New York. 

One of the most distinguished persons on our 
train was Horace Greeley. I speak of him 
more particularly because he occupied a seat 



directly before me; and every time he raised 
his right hand, I could but think of it as signing 
the bail bond for Jeff Davis. He, however, 
left us at Poughkeepsie, the city of Eastman's 
humbug school, or business college. I say 
humbug because we see so many boys and 
young men who are graduated at that school, 
coming out into the country, representing them- 
selves as college graduates; putting on a good 
amount of style, when, in reality, they are not 
as well prepared for business as graduates from 
log school houses in Allegany forty years ago. 
But an iron horse hurried us along, and we 
were soon thinking of something else, and 
viewing the scenery as we passed along. As 
we chanced to raise our eyes in the direction of 
the southwest, our vision caught a glimpse of 
an apparent thunder cloud arising in that direc- 
tion. As we neared it, point after point loomed 
up higher and higher, and then just beyond, 
through the dim, smoky atmosphere, we could 
see the outlines of another point still higher; a 
little nearer, the sight became truly grand and 
sublime; and we were gazing with wonder, 
when a whitish cloud passed in the sunshine 
between, for a moment, and then appeared a 
clear view, and we were looking at one of the 
grandest scenes of earth, — the Catskill Moun- 


tains,— at about forty miles' distance. Our train 
seemed almost possessed of wings, it flew along 
in such a hurrj; and this grand scene passed 
out of sight in the distance, and we had only a 
few moments for reflection. 

We were passing at a rapid rate, going from 
one point of land to another, cutting this bend 
and that in the river, so much so that one could 
scarcely tell whether running by land or water; 
we cast our eyes ahead, when another beautiful 
scene appeared in the distance. There loomed 
up another range cf mountains. There shot up 
a point resembling the dome of some State capi- 
tol, and just over beyond another in imitation 
of some church steeple, soaring as it were up to 
heaven. There seemed to be one running off 
in another direction trying to imitate a hog's 
back. Over a little beyond stood two more 
seemingly tied together by a slight ridge be- 
tween. These mountains being dotted with 
evergreens and difl'erent kinds of shrubbery, 
casting forth each its different colored foliage, 
with here and there a crag of rocks projecting 
forth, made this scene grand beyond description. 

As we passed along to the nearest point, there 
came up one point before us, high, craggy, and 
yet beautiful, as if determined to tip over and 
dam up the river. We were not allowed to stop 


here to philosophize; so we took another glance, 
saw that they were based on a rocky foundation, 
and concluded that they would stand yet a while; 
for they are the everlasting hills to be seen by 
a trip up or down the Hudson River in the day- 
time. A whistle from the engine, and a toot ! 
toot I and we were landed in the great city of 
New York, at the Hudson River depot. 

We took the first horse car for the Astor 
House, and then we walked down Broadway to 
Cortland Street and put up at the Western Ho- 
tel. This house being a rendezvous for West- 
ern men we met several of our Allegany mer- 
chants and other friends from the West. 

Our business done in the city, we stepped 
aboard the ferry boat for the New Jersey Cen- 
tral Railroad. We made a call at Plainfield, 
twenty-four miles from the city. The town is 
one of the pleasantest in New Jersey, but not 
a city yet. Our visit made here, we took the 
cars back to New York, thence by N. Y. & 
Erie R. R. home to Allegany, thanking our stars 
for the invention of railroads, especially when 
there are no accidents. 



We took cars at FrieDdship, and straightway 
started for Elmira. The following day we went 
on our way to Geneva. After tarrying a few 
days there with our friends, we took passage 
by railroad to Albany, and finding a boat bound 
for Staten Island, we went aboard and set sail. 
Now when we discovered Jersey City on the 
right, we sailed to the left, and landed in New 
York, for there the boat was to unload her 
burthen. Finding friends there, we tarried one 
day; visited the home of the friendless, and 
other benevolent institutions, and when we 
had accomplished the day, we went aboard the 
boat which brought us on our way to Stoning- 
ton, and soon thereafter landed at Pawtucket, 
R. I. Now, finding ourselves in the land of 
rocks, and good people, we spent a few days 
visiting, until it was time for the Seventh-day 
Baptist societies to come together to hold their 
annual conference. 

When the multitude had come together, there 
were found among them four and twenty elders, 
besides a multitude of deacons and laymen. 
Allegany was well represented. There were 



Nathan, the son of Richard; Jonathan, the Star 
of the West, and son of Abraham; Darwin E., 
the son of a blind man, who was renowned for 
the radical speeches he made in the counsels of 
state ; Nathan, the son of a Baptist deacon, 
who had been on a mission to China; Thomas 
B., tiie son of a prophet; and Joel F., who was 
a renowned singer. There were many others 
from other tribes, of whom I will briefly make 
mention : There were James, the son of Eli; 
George B., the son of a deacon, and renowned 
as an editor and financier; William B., the 
aged, who gave instruction to all; also Alfred, 
Joshua, Walter, Halsey, and Sherman, who was 
renowned for his attacks upon old-school 
orthodoxy and the Star of the West. After 
much business w^as done, Nathan, the son of 
Richard, preached, setting forth the principles 
of love, showing clearly that " love worketh no 
ill to his neighbor." The next day, business 
was resumed and completed. The meetings 
were very pleasant, excepting the continual 
boring of two or three individuals with bigger 
stomachs than heads, who seemed to think 
themselves blessed with great business faculties. 
The next day after the meeting closed, an 
excursion was had to Watch Hill beach. At 
the time appointed the people commenced col- 


lecting together, until they numbered between 
two and three hundred, and set sail down Paw- 
tucket River. Many timid ones took passage 
by land. We sailed joyfully down the river till 
we hove in sight of Stonington on the right, 
Watch Hill on the left, and Sandy Point in 
front, when we came into a dead calm. And 
now it came to pass, that much labor came by 
the oars, and Halsey, a preacher, renowned for 
invention, discovering our condition, boarded 
a boat with a few strong men, came to our as- 
sistance, and soon towed us into port. Our 
company were soon on the march over the 
sand banks and hills to the bathing-houses, 
prepared for the accommodation of visitors. 
Yery soon we found ourselves in a jollification 
meeting in the ocean. In fifteen minutes, some 
fifty to one hundred men, women, and children, 
dressed in garments prepared for bathing, were 
kicking, splashing, and thrashing in the surf. 
A system of ducking was adopted by some of 
the strong ones, in which most were compelled 
to engage by influences which they had little 
power to control. Chief among the duckers 
were Jonathan, the Star of the West; James, 
the son of Eli. and Stephen, the young preacher. 
Great was the laughter and enjoyment of the 
company looking on from the shore. After the 


bathing was over, the company repaired to the 
large hotel, kept by Captain Nash, where a 
dinner was served up to about three hundred, 
after which the company strolled wherever each 
one's curiosity seemed to direct. The day was 
a very pleasant one, and passed off without 
accident. Now when all hands returned to 
Pawtucket, many took leave of their friends, 
and that evening departed for Troas (which 
being interpreted is New York) , and some 
remained with friends to depart on the morrow. 
This is not one of the excursions we read of in 
the Acts of the Apostles, but one long to be 



While I attempt to give a short sketch of 
the customs and habits of the Southern people, 
I am aware of the fact that people went South 
from the Northern States, and returned telling 
different stories as to the condition of the people, 
slaves, etc. This is not strange, or to be won- 
dered at. Society differs very materially as we 
pass from one neighborhood to another, and 
from one State to another. A person could 
learn but very little of the workings of slavery 
by merely traveling through the borders of the 
slave States. I found the aspect materially 
changed as I passed into the interior of the 
States. However, mankind by nature is about 
the same the world over. Education, of course, 
or customs regulate their actions. Men in the 
slave States treated their slaves much as North- 
ern men do their cattle or horses. We have 
some farmers who take pride in keeping their 
stock looking sleek and healthy, and their out- 
houses clean and comfortable, while others seem 
to care but little about those matters; their stock 
go half starved, and suffer intensely for want 



of proper care and comfortable outbuildings to 
keep off cold storms and bleak winds of winter. 
So with the slaveholders of the South in rela- 
tion to their slaves. Neighborhoods, counties, 
and States differed there as well as here. We 
find, in passing through the Northern States, 
that some towns, counties, and States, have far 
excelled others in improvement and the appear- 
ance of their stock. So it was in the slave 
States in reference to the slaves. I am inclined 
to the opinion, however, that the Southern peo- 
ple were not for improvement in regard to the 
comfort of the slaves, which the Northern peo- 
ple are for their cattle. 

There were three kinds, or classes, of slave- 
holders, that came under my observation while 
traveling in the slave States. First, the gentle- 
man, in the common acceptation of the term. 
He was usually free and social in conversation, 
liberal as to his gifts, and treated his friends 
well, and with courtesy. He treated his slaves 
quite well (to say nothing of his restraining 
them of their liberties). He saw to it that their 
shanties were kept in a clean and comfortable 
condition, and that they had proper food and 
clothing, and sometimes gave them the use of 
a small piece of land to raise melons, vegeta- 
bles, etc., to add to their comfort. The slave 


had his task to perform; after that he was al- 
lowed the privilege of working in the garden, 
or working on the plantation, and having paj 
for it. Many of the slaves earned from one to 
four shillings per day after their task was done. 
They usually paid out their money for extra 
clothing, jewelry, and saved a little to pay the 
fiddler for a dance, or regular "shove down," 
as they called it. Some of them paid theirs 
for whisky. This depended upon the custom 
of their masters. If the master used whisky, 
his slaves were very apt to do the same. 

These first-class slaveholders were in the habit 
of giving their slaves occasionally a day for 
recreation or amusement. The slave looked 
forward to those days of recreation w4th great 
pleasure, which they seemed to enjoy much. 
The slaves aimed just as high as their masters, 
and usually no higher. If the slaveholders got 
together and held meetings, the slaves would 
do the same. If they had drinking sprees, or 
dances, the slaves would try to imitate; by the 
way, they could do well at imitation. I am of 
the opinion that there is no class of people 
that enjoys a dance better than did the slaves. 
They were sometimes permitted to go ten or 
fifteen miles to hire them a fiddler; sometimes 
he was a white man. When they got a white 


man to play for them, they seemed to think 
they were about equal to white folks. It was 
rather amusing to see them in the dance, they 
seemed to enjoy it so well. I never saw a 
white person, in the Northern States, who could 
turn on his heel, throw down a quarter, and cry 
out, ''Go it, fiddler!" with more ease than a 
slave. The slaves who enjoyed these privileges, 
I noticed, seemed much more contented than 
those that did not have them; besides, they 
were much more faithful to the interest of 
their masters. 

The second class of slaveholders has been so 
well represented by Mrs. Stow^e, in " Uncle 
Tom's Cabin," in the character of Lagree, that 
it will not be necessary for me to say much 
about them. They usually did their business 
on the regular knockdown system. They 
knocked and kicked their slaves about, very 
much as some farmers do their cattle, etc., giv- 
ing them just food enough to keep soul and body 
together, and then, as the saying is, browsed 
them through the winter, thick and thin, all 
kinds of weather, leaving their shanties to be 
repaired only as the slaves had time to do it 
after their tasks were done. Some of their 
shanties were so open that windows were un- 
necessary to let in light; and it would not have 


been a very difficult task to throw a cat through 
between the logs. The slaves owned by such 
masters did not seem to have any regard for 
truth or honesty. If they could steal a young 
pig, turkey, or goose, and have a good time 
over it through the night, and lie themselves 
out of a flogging in the morning, they thought 
they had done well; and if they got a flogging 
in the morning, they did not mind it much, as 
they became accustomed to it. These second- 
class slaveholders usually had but very little 
education. Many of them could not so much 
as write their names, or even read their names. 
Yet they owned large plantations stocked with 
slaves. They knew but little about what was 
going on in the world except on their own and 
neighboring plantations. Some of them lived 
old bachelors all their lifetime, dwelling in the 
shanties with their negroes, and seemed to be 
contented to live in that heathenish way. It 
was rather difficult, sometimes, to tell which was 
master or slave, unless you saw their faces, for 
some of the slaves were about as white as the 

The master, thus associated with the slaves, 
became fashioned much like them, as to actions 
and manner of expression. As for intelligence, 
the difference is not worth mentioning. They 


and the poor class of whites had some curious 
notions about the Northern States. They had 
an idea that there was no country equal to their 
own, and that the Northern States were all 
Alleghany Mountains, and that the snow re- 
mained on the ground nearly the year round. 
They thought also that the people here were in 
a starving condition, the most of them, the year 
round, and were it not for what little they got 
from the South now and then, they would have 
starved to death. One of them, in a conversa- 
tion, asked me this question: '' What do you do, 
when you are at home, in order to get money 
enough together to pay your expenses to come 
to this country'^ " When I told him there was 
more money and wealth in the North than in 
the South, he thought I was trying to humbug 
him. They were taught to believe that the peo- 
ple of the North were worse off than the people 
of the South, and even worse off than the slaves 
of the South. 

The third class of slaveholders compared well 
with our Northern loafing jockeys. They loit- 
ered about the groggeries, drinking whisky and 
trading mules, horses, and old broken-down ne- 
groes. They did not usually own lands, but 
hired a nook or corner on some plantation, con- 
taining an old log hut for their families to live 


in. Their capital stock was usually an old 
broken-down negro, or blind mule. Tliej 
seemed to appear about as aristocratic as any 
you find. They usually got little jobs of the 
large planters, and traded mule and negro for 
their livelihood, ran to do errands, etc. They 
traded mule for negro, and negro for mule 
without much distinction as to value. While 
we stopped to change horses at a station at one 
time, we found a lot of this class that had come 
togetiier for trade, and to have a good time. 
Two men would propose a trade of negro or 
mule. The referees got together. The old 
mules were hitched around to fence posts and 
the old negroes were seated around on logs in 
place of stools, etc. One man led out his old 
horse and switched him around to make him 
appear to be a valuable animal, and the next 
man called out his old negro, and said, 
^'Come, Jo, slap around, and show how smart 
you are.'' The trade was closed. The ref- 
erees decided that the man that got the mule 
must furnish one gallon of whisky for the 
crowd as boot-money. The property was ex- 
changed, and the trade went on. But we were 
off on the stage. To listen to such dealings 
and conduct, it was hard to tell whether one 
were in a civilized or in a heathen country. 



Slaves seldom complained of their condition 
in the presence of their masters. Thej would 
usually say they did not wish to be free. They 
almost always said "good master " in their pres- 
ence. Really, if they wished to be free ever so 
bad, they would be watched, and possibly might 
be locked up nights. If a slave is to be whipped 
(that is, what is called a regular breaking in), he 
is taken inside some old building, out of sight, 
especially if strangers are about. I heard the 
crack of the whip, and the shrieks of the slave, 
some time before I arrived at the old building. 
I never knew what he was whipped for; but to 
hear was enough to make one's blood run cold. 
It was not customary for slaveholders to build 
near the highways. They usually built one or 
two miles away, in order to keep the slaves 
away from the traveling public. Some planta- 
tions were quite large, perhaps from one thou- 
sand to fifteen hundred acres. Many of the 
planters' dwellings looked far better at a dis- 
tance than near by. 

I chanced at one time to be travelins: on foot 


from one plantation to another. I got a little 
hungry, and as I saw a fine-looking white house 
in the distance, I decided to call that way. As 
I neared I readily saw things were not kept up 
in Yankee style. But I had started for a lunch, 
and I was bound to get it. As I neared the 
house I observed that the cow yard, hog pen, 
and the mule yard was all combined in one, 
and that all was a sort of annex to the kitchen 
door, and reminded one of the stamping grounds 
of the buffalo on some of our large prairies in 
earlier days. But I worked my way to the door, 
and was admitted. I stated that I had called to 
see if I could get a lunch, as 1 was journeying 
through the country. The lady was quite pleas- 
ant, and said she could accommodate me in 
fifteen or twenty minutes. I took a seat, and 
while waiting, I had an opportunity to spy out 
the situation. It was quite a large house with- 
out a single partition, with shelves around the 
walls, and a row of barrels along one side, and 
a bed or two oft" in one corner. She hoisted a 
leaf to the table, placed a sort of bake pan over 
the fire, and went to one of the barrels and 
pulled up a large chunk of pork, and cut two 
slices and placed them in the frying pan. She 
brought forward a loaf of hoecake, or sort of 
Indian bread. She set a chair to the table and 


said, "'Sit along and help yourself.'' I sat 
along, of coarse. Those two large slices of 
pork were floating around in a large platter of 
grease. I thought I was hungry when I started 
for the liouse, but I found I was not as hungry 
as I thought I was; but I paid my bill, and said 
good day, with thanks. 

These are part of the travels and observations 
of a man's lifetime of eighty-two years. It was 
in a fine section of Missouri. While I thus 
speak of Missouri, I will not leave them with 
bad impressions compared with southern Illi- 
nois; for some of the Iloosiers, so called in her 
early days, can match Missouri or most any of 
the southwestern States as to habits of living. 
The early settlers of much of our country started 
rather coarse in the way of living; and yet we 
have a wonderful country. We were not much 
ahead of the Cubans or of the Filipinos. Our 
people made a great mistake by tolerating slav- 
ery so many years against the laws of God, our 
own Declaration of Independence, and the prin- 
ciples set forth therein. What a great mistake ! 
That mistake cost our nation millions of dollars, 
and thousands upon thousands of our best men. 
And now we are tolerating a greater curse than 
that, the saloon and drink tratfic, only for the 
sake of a little revenue. What a shame ! 



In a once flourishing town, in Allegany 
County, N. Y., not a great distance from the State 
line of Pennsylvania, a certain class of men ac- 
quired a foolish habit of assembling themselves 
together in a certain grocery, or store, in the vil- 
lage, for a little diversion in the way of playing 
cards, and occasionally taking a little of the 
"Oh, be joyful.'' The habit seemed to grow 
upon them; so much so that they would often 
spend half, and sometimes nearly all, of the night 
in gambling and drinking at this place of resort, 
until some of their wives concluded that such 
neglect on the part of their husbands was intol- 
erable, and they would stand it no longer. They 
concluded they would make a visit to the place 
of resort, and see what was the cause of attrac- 

On arriving at the spot (it being in the dead 
of the night), one of the ladies rapped at the 
door, demanding admittance. This being de- 
nied, she stepped back into the street a few 
steps, set her child down on the ground, then 
taking an ax in hand, walked up to the door 
13 ~ H)3 


and repeated in good earnest her demand for 
admittance. The inmates were pretty drunk, 
but not so much so but that they could in a 
measure realize their danger. They blowed out 
their lights, thinking to hide themselves from 
their pursuers. Some of them hid themselves 
under the counters, and some scampered up 
stairs, running their heads into rag sacks and 
under buffalo robes, like young partridges, — 
got their heads out of sight, and thought they 
were safely hidden. Admittance was soon 
gained by those outside. They soon struck a 
light for a hunt. The captain (the one using 
the ax) made her way up stairs, commenced 
hauling over boxes, sacks, and buffalo robes, 
hauling out one man after another, until she got 
hold of a pair of boots, and cried out, " I have 
found my husband's boots, and I guess he is 
here." She pulled him out by the hair of his 
head; she cuffed his ears, dragged him down 
stairs and into the street, giving him to under* 
stand that she had better business for him at 
home, and had been w^aiting for him for a long 
time. I think the women all found their hus- 
bands, and got them home; but the rumpus had 
called out some of the neighbors to see how the 
matter would end. I would not vouch for all of 
this report, but there might be niuch more of it 


if all were written. Reports do not yet say 
whether the men had the women arrested for 
assault and battery or not. The question of 
women's rights has been well discussed of late. 



In the fall of 1S67, we made a trip to New 
York, and Plainfield, N. J. Plainfield was then 
a pleasant little village. We had friends and 
relatives residing there, and on account of the 
beanty of the place people were coming there 
and purchasing village lots, with a view to mak- 
ing it their home. It was twenty-four miles 
from New York City, and city people were com- 
ing there to build themselves homes, and the 
prospect looked good for building up a nice 
town. We decided to purchase a lot or two, 
also. I had purchased a lot the year before for 
my wife's son, then a minor, on the outskirts of 
the town, three fourths of an acre, and paid six- 
hundred dollars for it, thinking it would gain in 
value for him when he became of age. 

Now we decided to purchase a half square 
between Central Avenue and a new street bor- 
dering on Fifth Street. This lot was fenced 
with a rail fence, quite ragged with bushes 
and briars. I paid one thousand dollars for it, 
and set men at work to build a house and clear 
up the lot. We returned home. I sold some 


property, left family there, and returned to 
Plainfield, and worked with my men until the 
house was nearly finished. I returned and ar- 
ranged my business to move to Plainfield. 
I had an auction, and sold off the goods we 
did not desire to take with us, packed our 
goods and shipped them to Plainfield. When 
we arrived there, our house was ready to move 
into, and we did so; and before we had remained 
in it three weeks, we were offered $y,000 for it, 
and also pay for the fruit trees we had put out 
on the place. I thought it a fair profit, so let 
it go, and moved out. 

I then hired two good carpenters to work with 
me, and commenced the house that we now live 
in. We boarded that summer until we got a 
part of the house finished so that we moved in 
in the fall. I continued work until the house 
was finished the next spring. And here we 
are, now writing without glasses, over four- 
score years of age, and with beautiful surround- 
ings in the central part of the beautiful city of 
Plainfield, N. J. 

I entered the commission business, or contin- 
ued that business for several years, and made 
it a paying business, until I felt that I was get- 
ting too old to handle produce, and so gave it 
p. I built the third house on the lot, after a 


few years, which I rented until it paid for itself, 
then sold it for what it cost, as I did not care 
to have the trouble to look after it; since that 
time we have traveled considerably, as this book 
will show. 

Wife of E. K. Maxsoii, M. D., Pii. D., of Syracuse, N. Y. 



We leave home by the way of the Delaware 
Gap, over the Pennsylvania Mountains, by 
Scranton to Binghamton, thence to Syracuse, 
N. Y., where we stop over a few days to visit 
my sister, Dr. E. R. Maxson's wife, and family. 
On Sunday the doctor hitches up and we drive 
up the Onondaga Valley Indian Reservation. 
The remnant of this tribe still owns three miles 
square of land in this beautiful valley. They, 
as a people, have become largely civilized, and 
have adopted the customs of the whites, and 
farm their lands much after the fashion of their 
white neighbors. They live in nice houses, and 
have mostly adopted the manner of the whites 
in dress. Their modes of living and farming 
are so near like the whites that one can scarcely 
tell when he crosses the line into their territory; 
and really, some of the people have become so 
whitened out, that it is somewhat difficult to tell 
on which side of the line they belong. Re- 
ligiously, they are about half and half Christian 
and pagan, so called. There is one Presbyte- 



rian and one Methodist Episcopal church. 
These embrace about half of the tribe. Each of 
these churches has rather small, but fine, church 
edifices, the Methodist having a fine parsonage 
for a white minister. We attended services at 
the Methodist church. The person who usually 
preaches being away to the Thousand Islands, 
one of the Indians preached. He preached in 
their own language. Although we could under- 
stand but little of his language, yet his earnest- 
ness, good rhetoric, and elocution were so fine 
and complete that one could but be interested, 
and catch the spirit or inspiration. 

These two churches hold their regular services 
at the same time — at eleven o'clock a. m. The 
pagans hold their regular services at two o'clock 
p. m. in their Council Hall. These seem to 
hold the controlling of the tribe, being possessed 
of the greater wealth. Some, both males and 
females, are quite wealthy. On inquiry of an 
intelligent Indian as to their methods of worship 
and doctrines of faith, he replied that he 
thought, if properly interpreted, it would be 
nearer like the Koman Catholic worship of this 
country. They are rather polite and courteous 
in their manners, and many of them speak good 
English. They are quite zealous in their reli- 
gion, though sometimes loose in their morals. 


It is said that as a rule, the pagans are the most 
reliable. They still hold on to many early tra- 
ditions, and have a desire to worship the Great 
Spirit. They all seem to have a liking for strong 
drink, and were it not kept from them by pro- 
hibition, they might soon come to ruin. They 
keep up their old custom of the war dance and 
performance over the white dog. Among them 
are some fine singers and musicians, and they 
have a fine brass band, and but few whites can 
compete with them. Upon the whole, they 
seem like an intelligent people. We returned 
to the city after spending the day with these 
friendly Indians. The doctor was well ac- 
quainted with the most of the leaders. 

Now for the Thousand Islands. My sister 
and son, the young doctor, decide to take the 
trip as far as Quebec with us, and arrange ac- 
cordingly. We go by the way of Watertown, 
and by boat to the Thousand Islands. The 
weather is delightful. We put up at the Thou- 
sand Island Hotel. The sails by the little 
steamer among and around the Islands are fine 
and delightful. The small steamer makes two 
trips each day of some fourteen to twenty miles 
amid the Islands, and to Alexandria Bay, and 
stopping ofi: on the Canada side one trip each 
day. The visitors at the Islands were many. 


And now we are ready to depart for Mont- 
real. No traveler should make up bis mind 
that he has seen the greatest beauties of land 
and water until he has visited the Thousand 
Islands (so called, although, in fact, there are 
over one thousand six hundred scattered up and 
down the St. Lawrence). The variety is very 
marked. The Thousand Island Park can 
scarcely be excelled in beauty by any watering 
place on our eastern coast. One should spend 
a few days and take a trip on the "Mayflower" 
among the Islands before undertaking to de- 
scribe their beauty. 



Aug. U, 1885.— We left the Park about ten 
A. M., our boat being about two hours behind 
her regular time; but our sail was grand. Soon 
passing Ogdensburg, we entered the first rapids, 
and soon thereafter others. These rapids are 
rough enough to exhilarate and prepare one for 
the larger ones that follow. It is difficult to 
express one's feelings while running the rapids. 
Our boat being behind, she had to anchor sev- 
eral miles above Montreal, as no attempt is made 
to run the rapids below this point in the night- 
time, or in a fog. 

But all was fair the next morning, and at half- 
past four we were in motion. The first rapids 
were rough, and the water white with foam, but 
all had become somewhat accustomed to them 
the day before. It was so exhilarating that 
nearly every one desired a place on deck. 

Our boat rocks and reels and pitches about 
in mud and seething torrent, but we go safely 
through, and surge on in the boiling torrent be- 
low\ Within a few minutes it became calm 
again, and so on until we reached the Lachine 



rapids. These are the roughest in the great 
river, and it requires a skillful hand at the wheel 
to run a boat safely through. Indian City is 
now on the right, and Lachine on the left. Our 
boat comes to a standstill. A little boat pushes 
out from the Indian shore. " There he comes! 
There he comes I" passed around among the 
passengers, as the Indian pilot approaches, and 
climbs on board. He has run these rapids for 
over forty years, and now all feel safe. But as 
the vessel rushes on, no steam is needed. The 
current takes her along at the rate of fifteen 
miles per hour, and as she moves down, down, 
amid rocks and foam, one thinks of Niagara, 
and the whirlpool below. Women turn pale, 
and no man can afford to leave the scene for 
the sake of breakfast. This is the most excit- 
ing time of the whole trip. 

All things are lovely, and we are soon swung 
around the rapids under the Grand Trunk bridge 
and landed at Montreal about eight a. m. We 
breakfast, and next roam over Mt. Royal and 
the stone built city, the best of all Canada's 
towns. The lookout from the top of Mt. Royal 
is grand. It is over five hundred feet above 
the city and country below, and outdoes our 
Plainfield Washington Rock iu grandeur beyond 



As we start off for Quebec, we observe that 
we are getting awfully mixed up with French, 
Indian, and Canadian names. Our nephew, 
the young doctor, has studied French, so we 
have to use him as our interpreter. But when 
we came in contact with the intermixture of 
French and Indian, he was stuck, for neither 
he nor anyone else could understand them, as 
they have a distinct language of their own. 

We are now on the steamer "Quebec," 
bound for the old walled city. The country 
from Montreal to Quebec is not so attractive 
nor the scenery so beautiful as from the islands 
to Montreal; but as we journey we have to take 
the variety as it comes. 

The Quebec steamer lands us here on the fif- 
teenth, and it being the Sabbath (Saturday), we 
rested from our journeyings, putting up at the 
St. Louis hotel on the mountain in the inclosed 
walls of the city. I think this is the only 
walled city on the American continent. The 
city is divided, and is called Upper and Lower 
Quebec. The walls surround Upper Quebec, 
and are some two hundred feet above the river. 
Lower Quebec includes all below bordering on 
the St. Lawrence and St. Charles Kivers. All 
of the landings are outside the walls, and the 
markets and business are largely outside also. 


The streets are narrow and the buildings 
nearly all come snug up to the walks. The 
streets leading to the upper and walled part are 
very steep and crooked, and many of them so 
narrow that the sun's rays scarcely ever reach 
them. This is a wonderful city in history. 
War, lire, and pestilence have marked it in days 
past. The struggles of war have left many a 
soldier buried in her soil. 

We have spent the day visiting the places of 
interest to the world. Tourists visit the place 
by hundreds and thousands. Place d'Armes, 
Durham and Dufferin Terrace, one thousand 
four hundred feet long, and Governor's Garden 
are among the places visited to-day. There is 
Quebec's joint monument to Wolfe and Mont- 
calm. The inscription thereon is in French. 
My nephew, the young doctor accompanying 
us thus far from Syracuse, N. Y., being pretty 
good in French, deciphered the inscription to 
us. We went to the Ursuline Convent, and 
called at the house where Montgomery was laid 
out, a very ancient old building, built by the 
French; thence to the esplanade, citadel. Par- 
liament building, Mastello Towers, Thistle La- 
crosse grounds, and the Wolfe monument on 
Abraham's Plains, so called by reason of a man 
of that name who made the first settlement; 


thence we got to where Wolfe fell in battle; 
next to the Grand Battery, Laval University, 
French Cathedral, Seminary Chapel, where are 
paintings by Champagne, etc.; thence we pro- 
ceed to the English Cathedral, Montcalm's head- 
quarters, opposite St. Louis hotel, where we are 

We trok a ride of eight miles through the 
country to the Falls of Montmorency. This was 
a grand ride among the ancient farm and town 
dwellings. These are mostly one story, and 
built of stone. Many of them have been in the 
same families for several generations, and many 
of the farms have been divided among children, 
and children's children, until the farms are in 
appearance like a lot of long lanes; for where 
they divide, they divide the whole length of the 
farm. This land is usually well cultivated, and 
nearly every nook and corner is used for some- 
thing. The crops look well, healthy, and heavy. 

At last the Falls are reached. They are majes- 
tic and beautiful. A trip to this place will well 
repay the tourist for the expense and trouble. 
To this place is the most popular drive from 
Quebec for town's people and visitors. 

We visited several of the large churches and 
cathedrals. I think the French cathedral rather 
excels in beauty, though none of them equal, 


Notre Dame and other churches in Montreal. 
The lookout from the fortification and upper 
walls of the city is grand. Many other places 
we have visited, such as prisons, hospitals, col- 
leges, etc., too numerous to mention. Montreal 
is a larger place or city, but the history of Que- 
bec makes her more interesting, and we are loth 
to leave her walls. Every visitor should visit 
the citadel and the places where the soldiers 
live. Their houses are built in the walls that 
surround the citadel. When they are at liberty, 
they like to show visitors about the departments, 
and will take you to the top of the walls where 
the cannons are set, pointing in every direction 
up and down the river. 

Much might be said about the Falls, but time 
and space wdll not allow. Montmorency River 
pours off the mountain several hundred feet into 
the St. Lawrence eight miles down the river 
toward the Gulf, and is a beautiful scene. 

But time is hurrying us, and we must leave 
her walls, the great St. Lawrence River, and 
its beautiful scenery, and get ready to depart 
for the White Mountains to-morrow. The 
weather is cool, and a sheet and two blankets 
is not burdensome at night. Our sister and son 
have decided to leave us and return to Montreal 
by boat to-night, and thence to their home in 


Syracuse, N. Y. We see them off with a good- 
by, and their steamer puffs away up the river. 
We cross the river to Point Levi in order to take 
the early train on our journey. We visited the 
asylum for the poor children and the homeless. 
This institution is conducted wholly by women. 
We found some four hundred children well 
cared for here. August 18 we left on the 
South Shore Grand Trunk Kailroad. 



Our train takes lis through a country of rocks, 
swamps, and marshes in Canada, until we reach 
the Connecticut Kiver Valley, when we enter 
one of the finest dairy and stock-raising coun- 
tries. We were delayed somewhat so that we 
did not arrive at Newport, Vt., until nearly 
ten o'clock. We put up at tlie Memphremagog 
Hotel, the manimoth hotel of the place. It bor- 
ders on Memphremagog Lake, and its prome- 
nades give guests a fine view of the lake, moun- 
tains, and surroundings. It is a summer resort, 
and its life ends with the hot season. This is 
across the line into A^ermont, and we are de- 
lighted to find ourselves in our own land, after 
many days in the Queen's dominion, the Cana- 
dian colonies. 

We leave Canada w^ith no regrets that w^e have 
visited her cities, rivers, and scenery. We have 
always been treated with politeness by both 
P'rench and English. We leave this afternoon 
for Portland, Me., by way of St. Johnsbury, 
where we cross into New Hampslnre. As the 


engine pushes along up the valley, we soon 
observe hills gathering on each side, and then 
the White Mountain range appears in the dis- 
tance as clouds in the heavens. We distinguish 
one peak soaring up beyond another, and by 
this time all tourists became interested. Win- 
dows and doors are opened, and all are gaz- 
ing to pick out Mt. Washington, the highest of 
all. The conductor is a pleasant and obliging 
man, and seems interested to make everything 
pleasant to all on board. On the train rushes, 
up, up, toward the summit of the mountains. 

These mountains are located in Coos County, 
New Hampshire, and consist of a number of 
peaks from four to six thousand feet high. The 
most elevated is Mt. Washington, which rises 
to an altitude of six thousand two hundred and 
forty-three feet above the level of the sea, 
and not very far from the sea at that. This 
is the center of attraction for tourists in this re- 
gion, and around it are clustered many points 
of interest, each having its peculiar charm. 

The notch at the summit is a narrow gorge, 
the entrance being only twenty feet wide, as two 
enormous cliffs extend for a distance of two miles, 
abounding in cascades and precipices. Wonder- 
ful curiosities excite and attract visitors. One 
of these is the Flume, a waterfall of two hun- 


dred and fifty feet. At a height of a thousand 
feet is a peculiar combination of five massive 
blocks of granite, which represents the form of 
a man's face. This is called the " old man of 
the mountain," because of the profile of a hu- 
man face. The conductor is on hand with the 
names of the scenes as we came to them, thus 
making them more interesting. Tucker's Ra- 
vine, Oak's Gulf, The Devil's Den, Gibbs's Falls, 
Falls of the Ammonoosuc, and other attractions 
are pointed out, and we became nearly as much 
enthused as when running through the rapids 
of the St. Lawrence. 

We step out on the platform and cast our eyes 
upward at the clift's perpendicular at our right, 
but the tops are beyond the stretch of our vision. 
We turn our eyes to the left, and downward 
into the abyss below hundreds of feet. We see 
trees in vain trying to push their tops to the 
sight of daylight above. Just across, the moun- 
tains rise in steep, majestic form, as if trying 
to outdo everything around. The train is thun- 
dering along on its rocky bed without steam, 
moving by gravitation like a hand sled running 
down a hill. It is wild in the extreme, and as 
wicked as the company might have been, no one 
cried for the rocks and hills to fall upon us to 
hide us from Him who created us; or that we 


might be cast into the pit or abyss below. We 
come out safe and sound, though severely jolted 
as we sped along the crooked, rock-bound track. 

Most magnificent hotels are located at or near 
all the most interesting points through the moun- 
tains. Some of these hotels are cut into the 
mountains. Mt. Washington had a peculiar 
railroad to transport up and down. It produces 
a peculiar sensation, it is said, but my better 
half was too tired to attempt the excursion, so 
we did not experience the enthusiasm desired. 

There is a liouse on the top of this mountain, 
built for the pleasure-seeker. From this point 
the view of the mountain peaks and landscape 
is grand, extending for many miles away into 
Vermont, Canada, and to the ocean; but of this 
I can not tell from experience. The train is 
rushing on, meeting excursion train after train, 
with people by the thousands, interested in see- 
ing nature's work. The scenery here is the ex- 
treme opposite to that viewed from the walls of 
old Quebec, though each place brings most glo- 
rious recollections to the tourist. 

But we pass on to Portland, in which there is 
not a single licensed grog-shop or distillery. 
We are very tired, so in sweet slumber we rest 
until the morning, and are ready for the next 
day's scenes on the Atlantic Coast. 



We stop in Portland, as we have ever been 
interested in the State of Maine, from the fact 
that her people had common sense enough to 
banish the traffic in strong drink bj a vote of 
the people, and from the fact that that State 
has been lied about as much as any State in the 
Union. Many church people, as well as drink- 
ing men, brewers, and distillers, have said that 
prohibition did not prohibit in Maine, and have 
said the same of every prohibition State in the 
Union. Yet these very classes continue to fight 
prohibition at every opportunity in the United 
States. I am satisfied that no righteous law wa& 
ever passed but what the devil would find some 
persons among these classes mean enough to 
break it in some way. We have no good law 
on our statute books but that there is some man 
or woman to be found to break it. But would 
it be consistent with the people to abolish such 
laws, because somebody will break them ? As 
I have traveled in most of the prohibition States,, 
I have taken pains to make inquiries as to the 
effect of such laws. 


The devil is ready to suggest to wicked men 
and women. A woman can be used by the devil 
as well as a man, and in Maine I learned of one 
game played by a woman, that outwitted all 
officers of the law for a long time. Men visited 
her house often, and would be seen coming 
away drunk. Officers were set to watch, and 
finally the house was searched and no liquor 
found. But men came away from there drunk. 
The landlady was a large and portly woman. 
The neighbors had observed that she passed 
from her house to an old building on the back 
of the lot quite often. The officers made up 
their minds to arrest and search the old lady; 
and what do you think they found ? They found 
that she had a rubber bag or bottle that she wore 
under her outside garments that she kept filled 
with liquor that she could draw from at any 
time liquor was wanted. She could step into a 
pantry or any side room and turn the faucet to 
her rubber bag or bottle without being observed 
by any stranger. This was kept up for a long 
time, until the people began to make inquiry as 
to what she went to the old outbuilding so often 
for. But the devil did out after a while, and the 
public turned the faucet on the old woman. 

I remember the first time I visited Maine after 
the Maine liquor law was passed. It was won- 


derful how many ways were resorted to by the 
liquor men in order to get or have their liquors 
concealed. They went into the most ridiculous 
methods to keep up the sale of liquors. Why 
did they go into all their fraudulent tricks if 
the law did not prohibit ? Some of you readers 
may possibly remember the Maine member 
of Congress that died at Washington. If the 
statement was true, he told them he desired no 
liquor used at his funeral. But for all that, it 
was said that the representatives that went on 
the special train with his remains to Maine filled 
their canteens or other storage with liquor to 
drink on their journey, and that they stopped 
on the way before getting into the State of Maine 
and had them refilled, so as to have their liquor 
on hand when they arrived in that prohibition 

I remember that at one time when I was in 
Washington in time of the session of Congress, 
it was said there were but three members who 
were not in the habit of taking their strong 
drinks every day. Why, it is said at the present 
time that there are more men in the county of 
Union, the county in which I reside in New Jer- 
sey, arrested for drunkenness and disorderly con- 
duct, than are in all the jails in the State of 
Kansas, and yet it is said that prohibition " does 


not prohibit." I know that Maine liquor people 
went to the potteries and had bottles made in 
the shape of Bibles and Testaments to carry in 
their pockets so that they could fool honest peo 
pie and make them think they were honest 
church-going people, and at the same time take 
their liquor secretly along with them. We have 
too many such members in our churches of to- 
day, especially church politicians. 

But I must leave for Boston, working on up 
the coast. It is a splendid trip for a tourist, 
but as I have been over these grounds before, I 
will not spend more time here now. So we push 
on to Providence and Westerly, my birthplace, 
and rest a little with friends; thence by boat 
from Stonington to New York, and home. Any 
person fond of travel can not but enjoy such a 
trip. At home again. 



We left Plainfield on the evening of the 25th 
of April, 1886. We entered our palace car at 
Elizabeth at 7:43 o'clock, and were off for the 
southwest, but darkness closed in upon us and 
the scenes for the evening, as we took our berths 
for the night. Our trip was by the way of 
Philadelphia. The following day dawned upon 
us, and we found ourselves in Harrisburg, and 
we were soon at the brink of the Allegany 
Mountains, climbing around the horseshoe and 
winding our way up the mountain, when a dense 
fog settled around us, almost shutting our vision 
from the deep chasms and gorges below and 
above; but our train pushed on up near the top, 
when we were reminded of the fiery furnace 
into which Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego 
were cast; for here is one of the iron furnaces 
or smelting establishments, with its seething, 
hot flame to be seen through the doors, and the 
real sheet of flame of apparent madness lapping 
up the dark fog from its many chimneys. But 
we rush on, and our train glides into the tunnel 
into the inner darkness; but in a short time day- 


light appears and we are on the other side of 
the Alleganies. And now we are making hooks 
and crooks down, and on our way toward Pitts- 
burg, the scenery being grand and exhilarating 
to the observer. We are reminded in a small 
degree of what we may see ere our journey is 
ended amid the Rocky Mountains. The fog is 
lifting, and we are turned down the mountain 
and deep valley in the direction of Pittsburg, 
and behold the smoke from the soft coal used 
in manufacturing, ascending and hanging over 
the city, reminding us of the " Valley of 
Hinnom,'- or the place we read of where " their 
torment ascendeth up forever and ever." 

But our train pushes on and arrives at the 
station, where a stop of thirty minutes for break- 
fast is made. We are now over the Allegany 
Mountains, and not one in ten on board has 
thought or known of the grand scenery and the 
awful chasms that surround us, and did not know 
what we had passed over and through until we 
landed in Pittsburg. Pittsburg is situated on the 
point where the Allegany and Monongahela 
Rivers come together, thus forming the Ohio. 
A hearty breakfast is partaken of, and our train 
moves on out from under the cloud of smoke 
and fog. But soon we emerge from the moun- 
tains, and are pushing on through the beautiful 


State of Ohio toward Columbus, and thus on 
into Indiana to Indianapolis. Now darkness 
covers the earth, but our train rushes on and 
out of Indiana into Illinois and through the low- 
lands of what used to be called the Southern 
Egypt of Illinois, on account of its lowlands, and 
the heathen darkness of its early settlers. 

On the next morning we found ourselves in 
East St. Louis, where the late strike made such 
havoc of life and business; but all is now quiet. 
The soldiers in their tents were still remaining 
here to protect the bridge, etc. Our train now 
moves over the bridge, through the tunnel under 
the city, and we are at the depot in St. Louis, 
where we take a bus to the great and commo- 
dious Southern Hotel, where we drop off for a 
season, and then pass on to Kansas. We stop 
off in this old city of conservatism a day or two, 
and visit a young doctor of our acquaintance. 
He took time to show us about the city, and we 
bid him good-by. His wife was the first white 
child born in Kansas. 



Twenty- SEVEN years ago there were but a few 
thousand white people settled along the border 
towns. The Indians on their trails rode their 
ponies into the border towns in long trains, and 
buffaloes, elks, and deer roved over the vast 
prairies and woodlands. On my first trip to 
Kansas I remember eating my first buffalo steak, 
and I would not mind if I had a cut for break- 
fast nowadays. Kansas now has a population 
of over one hundred thousand, and no State has 
ever made a greater progress than bleeding Kan- 
sas (so-called). IS'o State in the Union has ever 
raised so great a crop of corn as Kansas the past 
year. She was largely settled by people from 
the Eastern States in the first settlements. They 
are well educated people, with good morals, so 
that our free institutions and religious ideas 
have kept the lead, and she has ever proved 
herself an example for other States in our nation 
and for the world. Her prohibition laws are 
proving a wonderful success. No rum shops 
have I been able to find in the interior of the 



We are on our way through the State from 
Jefferson City, Mo., to Leavenworth, Lawrence, 
and so on to Atchison, where we take a train 
for Nortonville to visit my sister who married 
O. W. Babcock, and settled there when the 
Santa Fe Railroad was first opened. At that 
time I think only one house and a little depot 
was in existence where the city of Nortonville 
is located now. He is now the president of the 
National Bank in that city. 

I stop here several days, leave my wife with 
my sister, and go to Topeka, Hartford, and 
other towns to visit special relatives and friends, 
and to see what improvements have been made 
since I first visited Kansas. I stop at Emporia 
a little time, and then return to Nortonville, and 
finish up my visit preparatory for our journey 
on toward the Pacific Coast. We finally bade 
our friends good-by, take our train back to 
Atchison, thence north until we reach the Mis- 
souri Pacific Railroad, where we change for Den- 
ver, Colo., by way of Lincoln, Neb. We travel 
through Nebraska mostly in the night, but day- 
light finds us still on the prairies and plains of 
that State. 

Colorado is quite new as to settlements, and 
we saw probably thousands of carcasses of dead 
cattle on this line. The winter before had been 


a cold, hard one, and thousands of Texas cattle 
had been driven up here to winter. These cat- 
tle had not been educated to pick their living 
in deep snow, and there came a hard blizzard, 
driving these cattle over the bluffs down by the 
railroad where they were drifted under, and 
there died. Many of these cattle had been 
skinned to save their hides, and there they lay 
along the line for miles, their flesh dried to their 
bones. It seems that the atmosphere of that 
region is such that the flesh dried to that extent 
that we did not suffer from any bad smell there- 

But our train is now on the plains of Colo- 
rado, and as we cast our eyes southward we see 
an object reaching heavenward, and we are led 
to make inquiry, and we are told that it is Pike's 
Peak, one hundred miles away. As we pass 
on, the range of the Rocky Mountains begin to 
appear in the distance, and we all begin to be- 
come more and more interested. 

As our train shoots ahead, it almost feels as 
if we are being shot through the heavens. Now 
the snow-capped Rockies appear for hundreds 
of miles away, and we feel almost as if we were 
in a new world. We cast our eyes south, and 
Pike's Peak seems to be drawing near us. The 
foothills of the Rockies begin to appear, and 


the glitter of the sun begins to shine upon the 
white-capped mountains of snow one hundred 
miles away. We drop our eyes lower down on 
the plains; we can see flocks of wild animals 
feeding on the plains, but our train is rushing 
along at lightning speed, as if it might bunt 
against the Rocky Mountains. However, the 
road is smooth and the country level, and we 
think we will take our chances with the rest. 
We look ahead, and the city of Denver appears. 
Soon we arrive at the Denver depot, and are in 
the new city of the West. 



Denver is called the "Athens of America." 
We have just returned from a ride about the 
city, visiting the capitol buildings, the noted 
opera house, the cathedral, the smelting M^orks, 
the principal business streets, and most popular 
yards and dwellings of the city, and its highest 
point. Stop and imagine the landscape in vdew 
and cry out, "Hallelujah in the highest!" 
We cast our eyes to the southv^^ard, and there 
looms up Pike's Peak some fifty to seventy-five 
miles away ; thence swing around northward, 
passing us on the west, following the snow- 
capped mountains perhaps one hundred miles, 
or as far as the eye can distinguish light from 
darkness, or white snow and the naked moun- 
tains bordering on the plains, and you have the 
landscape of the world, outstripping the White 
Mountains of the East, the Catskill or Allegany, 
that we have heretofore looked upon with 
delight. Here we feel that we are almost in 
a new world. 

Denver is situated on the plain, some fourteen 
miles, or possibly more, from the foothills or 



brink of the range of the mountains. Its eleva- 
tion is 5,196 feet above the sea level. It is the 
queen city of the West. It is the capital of the 
State and county seat of Arapaho County, with 
a population of about 75,000 at that time. Its 
streets are broad and kept clean, with pure 
water flowing in nearly every street gutter in 
the city, from which all yards and gardens can 
be irrigated by ditch or fountains. 

The water is forced from artesian wells into 
canals or fountains, and these can be forced 
eighty feet higher than the streets at the high- 
est point. The buildings are largely of stone 
and brick, substantial and beautiful, with large 
stores and business buildings, well supplied 
with stocks of the best qualities. The hotels 
are magnificent, and nearly equal our Eastern 
hotels. Seven railroads center here, and it is 
estimated that seven hundred people arrive here 
daily. It is a wonderful city for one of only 
twenty years' growth. The soil of the surround- 
ing country will not compare with Kansas and 
Nebraska; though by irrigation it produces 
good crops of wheat, oats, and other small 
grains, but can not be depended upon for corn. 

The Rocky Mountains at the nearest point to 
the city are fourteen miles distant. Long's 
Peak, James Peak, Gray Peak, and Pike's Peak 


are Id plain view, connected by the gleaming ser- 
rated line of the snowy range. The day is 
clear and brilliant, and the sun upon the white- 
capped mountains forms variegated shades be- 
yond description. 

I must draw this chapter to a close, as we are 
out in the marvels of the world, and our pen can 
not tell of all there is to be seen. We must 
leave the beauties of Denver and her surround- 
ings, for we are bound for the Rockies, Salt 
Lake, the desert, the Sierra Nevadas, and the 
Pacific Ocean, and we have a great amount of 
work for our pen to do, and we must be off with 
the next train. 



May 19, 188().— We left Denver in the morn- 
ing on the Denver & Rio Grande Narrow 
Gauge Railroad; at twelve o'clock we reached 
Lake Divide. This is a most beautiful lake, 
being supplied with water through pipes from 
the mountains six miles away. A neat cottage 
has been erected here, making a fine watering 
place, and a resort for picnics, excursions, etc. 
At 12:30 p. M. we landed at Pueblo. 

The country along the route is rather poor, 
although fine crops are raised where irrigation 
can be obtained; but where this can not be done, 
but little use is made of the land. 

Lines of canals can be seen extending for 
miles along tlie brink of the mountains, supplied 
from melting snow, and many rivers flow through 
the valleys. These are tapped by small canals 
and small channels that distribute through the 
plowed lands, meadows, and pastures. There 
are many cattle ranches along the line, and some 
of them extend high up in the mountains. 

There does not seem to be as much fodder 
on one thousand acres as there is on a five- acre 


lot in the East. There are thousands of cattle 
to be seen, and most of them appear half- 
starved; but the people say, " the cattle fatten 
very quickly when grass comes; the grass cures 
without cutting, having no rain to bleach it." 
They do well through the winter, the past year 
being exceptional, as they pretend; but I am a 
little inclined to think there is a little humbug 
about this ranch business in some of the moun- 

We push on until we reach the Arkansas; and 
well up the river, we enter the Arkansas canon, 
the wonder of the world. This is called the 
Royal Gorge, and is a wonder of the age, as 
its grandeur still remains. After its depths, the 
train moves slowly along the side of the Arkan- 
sas River and around the projecting shoulders 
of the dark-hued granite, deeper and deeper 
into the heart of the earth. The crested crags 
grow higher, the river madly foaming along its 
rocky bed, and anon the way becomes a mere 
fissure of light through the heights. Far above 
the road the sky forms a deep blue arch of light; 
but in the gorge below hang dark and somber 
shades which the sun's rays have never penetra- 
ted. The place is a measureless gulf of air with 
solid walls on each side. Here the cliffs are a 
thousand feet high, smooth and unbroken by 


tree or shrub; and here and there a pinnacle soars 
skyward for thrice the distance. No flowers 
grow, and the birds care not to penetrate into 
the deep solitude. The river, somber and swift, 
breaks the awful stillness by its roar. Soon the 
canon becomes more narrow, the treeless cliffs 
higher, and the river closely confined, and where 
a long iron bridge hangs suspended from the 
smooth walls, the grandest portion of the canon 
is reached. 

Man becomes dwarfed in the sublime scene, 
and nature is exalted in the power she possesses. 
To describe it is beyond our scope of descrip- 
tion. One must pass through and experience 
for himself; but then he can not tell it. This 
canon is the work of ages, doubtless from the 
time of the flood. 

Emerging from the gorge, the narrow valley 
of the Upper Arkansas is covered with high 
snow-capped peaks, but we can not mention 
their names. As we proceed, we begin to scale 
the heights of Marshall Pass, the wonderful 
pathway over the continental divide; and as we 
cast our eyes upward, we see that we are coming 
into a snowstorm, and begin to draw our wraps 
around us. Our train is divided. One engine 
takes two cars and goes ahead as a feeler, to 
ascertain whether all is right along the track. 


Two engines are attached to the balance of the 
train, and are pushing us up the mountain, twin- 
ing and worming on a grade of twenty-five feet 
to the mile, through snowdrifts and snowsheds, 
in the midst of a severe snowstorm. We 
stopped for tea at Summit Pass under the iron 
snowshed, in which people live who are engaged 
in looking after the road and feeding the peo- 
ple. While we were waiting, news came that 
there was a washout ahead, but that men were 
busy repairing the bed, and that we would soon 
be able to pass. 

Our small train started out slowly, " feeling 
its way," and soon news came back that we 
had passed over the washout safely. Our train 
then moved on slowly, and as we were in the 
rear car, we, as everyone else, were somewhat 
exercised in the matter. But the train passed 
over safely, though I thought I felt the track 
settling as we went over. It was a dangerous 
season of tlie year on account of the melting 
snow that formed rapid streams and suowslides, 
and caused bowlders to loosen from their former 
positions, and fall upon the track. But we suc- 
ceeded in getting down the mountain safely. 
The next day brought us news by dispatch that 
soon after we passed over the washout, the track 
had been washed away, and down some two or 


three hundred feet, and that our train was the 
last over. We passed through the Black Canon 
of the Gunnison in the night by moonlight, so 
that we can not give the grandeur in detail, and 
so pass on, for nature has created everything 
on a grand scale; detail is supplemented by 
magnificence, and appeals to one's deepest 

Emerging from the deep canon, the railroad 
climbs Cedar Divide, and on we travel and open 
out upon the desert for about one hundred miles. 
This desert is a desert indeed. For a greater 
part of the way not a green thing appears, save 
now and then a bunch of wild sage, and a beau- 
tiful flower or wild cactus. The inhabitants 
consist mostly of French and Chinese, and the 
prairie dog, living in the ground. The houses 
are built in the ground in shape of a potato hole. 
But we soon pass through Marshall Pass and 
Cattle Gate. This is a wonder; two columns 
stand out in bold relief, one on one side of the 
river and the other on the opposite, fairly pro- 
jecting over our heads, one four hundred feet, 
and the other five hundred feet high. 

We now begin to climb the second mountain, 
and up we go through stone gorge to the height 
of seven thousand feet. Now we begin to de- 
scend the mountain, and finally open out into 


the Utah valley, where we find ourselves amid 
fruit-tree blossoms aud in a most fertile country. 
Everything looks fresh and green, though the 
surrounding mountains are decked with snow, 
and bring a chill over us when leaving the cars 
and entering the bus for our hotel in the noted 
city of Mormons, Salt Lake City. We feel the 
need of rest, for we have exerted ourselves in 
watching the wonders of nature along our jour- 
ney. And we were glad that the Sabbath day 
followed, that we might get rest. 

The Denver & Rio Grande Railroad from 
Denver to this place is a fine specimen of archi- 
tectural beauty, combined with nature; and its 
route surveys a wonder of man's perseverance 
and American genius. The road doubtless runs 
through the deepest canons and gorges of the 
earth, and rises heavenward as it passes over 
the Rocky Mountains. It is a beautifully 
equipped road; all that is possible is done by 
the company to make the traveler comfortable 
and happy. But I will close this chapter, as I 
have written at great length; but it is a long way 
from Denver to Salt Lake by so many ups and 
downs. Forgive me, and possibly I may do bet- 
ter after I stop over and attend the Mormon 


Salt Lake City reads larger on paper perhaps 
than it really is, when we look face to face at 
things as they are. The city is located about 
fourteen miles from the lake. The lake is about 
sixty miles in length, and to all appearance is 
like other lakes, save the salt on its shores. 
There are some curiosities about it for the 
reader to solve for himself, if he can. 

There are numerous large rivers that empty 
into this lake. There is no appearance of an 
outlet, and it is said that the water is receding 
year by year. The city is the most noted place 
for Mormons in the world, the population being 
about two thirds Mormon. They are usually 
industrious in habits. We attended Sunday 
service in their commodious building. It will 
seat about twelve thousand persons. I should 
judge there were present that day between five 
thousand and six thousand people, and over one 
thousand of these were other than Saints. It 
was sacrificial day, and the communion was 
offered to all present — men, women, and chil- 
dren. They use bread and water in place of wine. 


It took about two hours to go through the cere- 
mony. During this ceremony the speaker dwelt 
upon the persecutions, there being twenty-seven 
of the leaders now imprisoned for polygamy 
and treason against the government. This was 
in the year 1886. The governor has proposed 
their pardon if they will renounce the plurality 
of wives and submit to the laws of the govern- 
ment; but they will not do this. The speaker 
endeavored to prove from their standpoint that 
it was appointed by God, and that under our 
Constitution they had the right to practice it, 
and if need be, they should fight for it as part 
of their religion. Their temple proper is not 
completed, and it is a question whether it ever 
will be. It has been some forty years in prog- 
ress, with the opposition they are meeting at 
present. Their public buildings are inclosed 
in a high wall with four gates, and show that 
an immense amount of money has been ex- 
pended here. But we conclude that it is a 
wicked city, and accept the warning that was 
given to Lot and his family to flee to the moun- 
tains from Sodom, and straightway we took the 
cars for Ogden and arrived safely. 

The next day we took a trip by carriage up 
the Ogden liiver Caiion to the boiling springs, 
and saw the scores of beautiful springs and 


streams that gush forth from the cliffs of the 
canon. Our driver told interesting stories of 
the capture of the black, yellow, and grizzly 
bears in this cailon. At T o'clock p. m. we 
took our departure, passing northward around 
the end of the lake, and the next morning 
opened upon the great desert and a long tedious 
day was ours. For three or four hundred miles 
scarcely a green thing was to be seen to cheer 
our vision, save where the railroad company 
had by irrigation supplied nature by setting a 
few trees and starting vegetation. Near every 
station the Indians appeared, begging for money, 
and sometimes would have a papoose covered 
that they would offer to show for a nickel. They 
afforded much amusement to the weary tourist. 
But we traveled on, passing Golconda and 
Wadsworth, and took tea at Keno; then came 
to Turkey River and retired for the night, while 
our cars climbed the mountains. But slumber 
was disturbed a little after midnight by a sud- 
den stop, for we had bunted against a snow- 
and land-slide in the dreary snowshed of the 
mountains some five thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. 

The high atmosphere and dampness of the 
snowsheds from melting snow, choked our 
breathing apparatus, and we felt as if our breath 


went out through a goose- quill, and was not in- 
clined to come back again. But we did the best 
we could, for we had to remain in this torment 
for nearly six hours, until morning, for the slide 
to be cleared away; and then a dreary gloom 
was over our whole train, for we had yet to pass 
through about fifty miles of snowsheds, shut 
out from daylight, only as we peeped through 
ventilation cracks and holes. But we finally 
opened out into a new world, and were on the 
down grade toward the Sacramento Yalley. 
When at nine o'clock we breakfasted amid the 
roses and flowers, and in hope of better things 
to come, we were a happy set of tourists again. 
We now come to the old gold fields where 
thousands of acres of mountain had been dug 
over until gold had ceased to be profitable to 
mine, and abandoned for that purpose; but 
streams that have been raised for washing gold 
were turned to account for irrigation, and now 
the mountains and valleys blossom as the rose, 
with vineyards and fruit gardens that make us 
all smile and give glory that we are again in a 
primitive world. We pass Cape Horn as we 
descend, at our left, and take a glance at the 
sleek and fat cattle upon the thousand hills, 
and we are glad of our delay, as otherwise we 
should have passed these scenes in the night- 


time. At noon we arrived at Sacramento City, 
and dine in the beautiful Sacramento Yalley — 
the glory of the Western world. Some of our 
company leave us here, and invite us to stop 
over also and rest up with them a few days; 
but we decide to go on with the train, so we 
push on amid fields of grain and newly made 
hay, and herds of cattle and horses are seen all 
along the way, while we breathe the wholesome 
air of California. We cross over to Oakland, 
and thence by ferry, and land in the wonderful 
city of San Francisco, where we put up at that 
notable structure of the world, the Pacific Hotel. 
It is now May 19. 



Friday, May 21. — Yesterday we spent in 
sight seeing. The facilities for getting around 
are easy and convenient, for cable cars, horse 
cars, and dummy engines run in every direction, 
giving transfer tickets to any point you wish to 
visit at a cost of five cents, whether it be one or 
ten miles. Yesterday we visited Sea Cliff, the 
native home of the seals, where hundreds could 
be seen on the high rocks near the shore, rolling, 
roaring, and tumbling in their native glory; and 
the black whale now and then shows his back 
to the thousand and one visitors. The Cliffs, 
just outside of Golden Gate, is the great resort 
of the West, the same as Watch Hill or New- 
port is to the East on the Atlantic Ocean. We 
took a drive through the Menlo Park, out to the 
Soldier's Home and to the Gate, returning by 
the Celestial City, or the part occupied by the 
Chinese. They own and occupy quite a large 
section of the city, and their markets and trade 
are truly a wonder to behold. Their places of 
worship are many, and for a fee of twenty-five 
cents to one dollar they will go through their 



method of worship, burning incense, and smok- 
ing pipes to your satisfaction; and it pays the 
tourist to visit their quarters. They are all 
quiet and attentive to their business. Their 
great aim is to save, and they live on about ten 
cents' worth per day. Some are rich, but many 
are poor, and live in disgraceful places, some 
of them in the mountain caves back of their 
business places. They have their joss houses, 
so-called, in various locations, and make all 
the money they can out of them. 

San Francisco is a place worth a visit from 
all tourists. We have now crossed the conti- 
nent from one ocean to the other; have entered 
the caverns and canons of the earth to the depth 
of thousands of feet, ascended the Rocky Moun- 
tains to the highest heights that any engine ever 
soared, — 10,000 to 12,000 feet. We have de- 
scended into the valley of the desert and landed 
in San Francisco, and have visited and viewed 
the Pacific Ocean and her coast. Our friends 
that have traveled with us so far are stopping 
near us at our hotel or those near by. But the 
Sabbath is drawing on; this is P'riday, and we 
decide to go over to Oakland and spend Sab- 
bath over there, and attend Sabbath service 
with the Seventh-day Adventists at their church. 
Oakland is a beautiful city, very much to San 


Francisco as Brooklyn is to New York. Many 
live over there and do business over in the city. 
It is nearly three miles over the bay from one 
city to the other. They have the finest ferry 
boats I ever rode upon, and pass every half hour. 
We crossed over and put up at a hotel near the 
Adventist church. I called on some of them 
that I was acquainted with. They have a large 
church there, and a large publishing house, 
where the Sig^is of the Times is published and 
much other printing and publishing is done. 
We attended church on Sabbath. Elder E. J. 
Waggoner, whose father, Elder J. H. Wag- 
goner, had stopped with us in Plainfield, N. J., 
when attending the Seventh-day Baptist confer- 
ence in that place, preached. He called on us 
before we left, and brought us some reading 
matter to take with us when we left for Port- 
land, Ore. 

We crossed back over to the city to finish up 
our visit preparatory to leaving in a few days. 
We looked up some of our friends, and made 
another survey of the city, and went over to the 
cliffs, etc., and had a good time. They have 
fine hotels, and take much pains to please their 
guests. Nearly every evening we went out, 
and on return would find a nice bouquet or 
a fine show of fruit in our room. This city is 


nearly snrrounded by water, and has a fine har- 
bor. From the front of the city on the bay or 
harbor, it is about eight miles over across the 
city to the cliffs or ocean. The Golden Gate is 
out and around the northern part of the city to 
the ocean, where all steamers and other crafts 
pass out and in to the harbor. 

We have now spent all the time we can really 
afford to in this city and section, and we had 
made up our minds that we would like to visit 
Portland, Ore., before we returned East. But 
there is no railroad yet from this place to that, 
so we decide to take an ocean steamer to get 



We left San Francisco on the ocean steamer 
"Columbia." She is a fine steamer, well 
equipped for the safety and comfort of the trav- 
eler, and the voyage on the ocean for two days 
and nights was deliglitful; the waters were calm 
and smooth, though the fog shut down upon us 
the first night, which caused a little delay; and 
the fog horn kept up her music of toot, toot, to 
the annoyance of some of the sleepers, though 
we were not especially disturbed. We slept 
well, and lost not a meal while on board; neither 
I nor my wife were seasick on the journey. The 
fog disappeared in the morning, and the sun put 
in appearance iu its beauty and glory, as the 
waves rolled around us. We were out of sight 
of land as our steamer cut the waves, and as we 
looked out upon old Pacific, we could now and 
then see a whale rise and spout, while the gulls 
followed in the wake of our steamer to pick up 
their living from the refuse that was dropped 
overboard by the waiters from the sumptuous 
tables. On the third morning we crossed the 



bar and landed at Astoria, in tlie mouth of the 
Columbia River, on the Oregon side. The ocean 
trip was fine, and the otficers seemed to take 
delight and pride in looking , after the comfort 
of the traveling public. Only one thing seemed 
unpleasant. There were some twenty or thirty 
merchant drummers on board, — men who pre- 
tended to know about all that is worth knowing 
in the world; and in fact many of them did know 
considerable, but they did not always know 
what was good manners, for a lot of them would 
gather around the piano in the parlor, and play 
and sing bacchanalian songs, and keep it right 
up to the discomfort and displeasure of nearly 
all on board, until the late hours of the night. 
A temperance worker by the name of Miss 
White was on board, and many would have 
been glad to hear an address from her; but she 
had no desire to make a speech, so long as this 
set of loafers occupied the parlor. They were 
a regular bore to the respectable part of the 
passengers. There are hundreds of such in the 
world. There are, however, among drummers 
some real gentlemen. 

The mouth of the Columbia Kiver is about 
nine miles wide, and the same steamer takes us 
up the river one hundred miles, and thence up 
the Willamette, ten miles to Portland, Ore. 


The Columbia is a beautiful stream, and divides 
between Oregon and Washington, and is the 
great salmon fishery of the world, where the 
most of our canned salmon is put up. The can- 
ning establishments can be seen on each side 
of the river all along the shore, besides some 
floating establishments that float up and down 
the river. Many of the people along the shore 
make fishing their livelihood. The canners pay 
five to six cents per pound for fish delivered, 
and it is no small show to see the large fish 
hauled from the boats up into the canning es- 
tablishments. The valley up the Columbia is 
rather narrow, and the hills are heavily tim- 
bered with red and spruce pine, mixed with 
other hard and soft timber, and the lumber busi- 
ness is quite extensive for home and the Euro- 
pean markets. The banks of the river are 
usually full from the melting snow from the 
mountains, at this season, — the last of May and 
in June. The scenery on each side is usually 
fine and wild, the different shades of evergreen 
mixed with hard-wood and shrub, putting forth 
their varied foliage, adding much to the beauty; 
and now and then the white-capped mountains 
put in their appearance fifty to one hundred 
miles away, adding much interest to the tourist 
as he glides up this beautiful river. The high- 


est mountains in Washington Territory are, Ta- 
coina, which is 14, 4M feet above the level of 
the sea; Mount Hood, 11, 325 feet; Baker, 10,800 
feet; St. Helena, 11,750 feet; and Adams, 9,5Y0 
feet. These are usually white with snow the 
year round. We land at Portland at 4:30 
o'clock, after a beautiful sail of the day from 
Astoria, and put up at the Hotel Holton for a 
rest. Portland is situated on the west side of 
the Willamette Piver, some ten miles from its 
mouth where it empties into the Columbia. It 
is an enterprising town with an estimated popu- 
lation of 34,000. We decide to stop over Sab- 
bath for a rest, etc. We find a church of Sev- 
enth-day Adventists located here on the east 
side of the river. 



This is an enterprising town. It has one of 
the finest public school buildings in the West, 
and, perhaps, can not be excelled in our coun- 
try. Their report shows total expenditures to 
be $214,362.20. The building is located on an 
elevation in the western part of the city near 
the mountains, and from its tower nearly every 
building in the city can be seen, and the view 
up and down the river is fine. The school popu- 
lation numbers 7,158 at this time of our visit, 
two hundred and fifty-two of these being Chi- 
nese children. Their school is free to all classes 
between the ages of six and twenty-one. One 
part of the city is largely occupied by China- 
men. They have their stores, theaters, joss- 
houses, and markets, and do business much in 
the same order as in San Francisco. They are 
industrious, saving, and usually sober and quiet. 

The Baptists have a mission among them, and 
we attended service with them one evening. 
There were no white people but the missionary 
and wife and ourselves in the congregation. 
They sang the Moody and Sankey songs, talked 



and prayed, using the English language quite 
well, and seemed quite devoted and understand- 
ing. The speaker gave Bible readings mostly 
that evening. They seem quite as reliable as 
the Americans or other people, and are largely 
depended upon for house work as well as out- 
door help. They are ready to work cheap for 
cash. One came to our room to solicit washing, 
and we left twenty-two pieces with him. We 
left for Salem, the capital of the State, to be 
gone a few days. There is a railroad fifty-two 
miles in length, running through the Willam- 
ette River valley between Portland and Salem. 
This valley is heavily timbered. 

I remembered a friend of mine left the East 
forty years before, traveling overland to Oregon, 
it taking him over six months to make the jour- 
ney. He went to Salem. I knew he must be 
an old man if living; but I made up my mind 
to find him if he was living. He was a brother 
to a man that married my mother's sister, and a 
very fine man. 

Salem is beautifully situated in the plain of 
the broad valley, finely laid out, but is no com- 
parison to Portland in trade, population, and 

In coming to this place, we stopped at the 
hotel, and inquired if they knew of a man 


Darned Paul Crandall. First we did not find 
anyone that seemed to know him. Finally one 
said, "Go to the bank where he used to do 
business, and you may get track of him." I did 
so, and learned that he had given up business 
in the city and gone nine miles into the country 
up in the mountains to live with his wife's peo- 
ple, and that he had a farm up there in the 

I returned to the hotel and inquired at the 
stable what they would charge to drive us up 
there and let us stay a few hours, and then bring 
us back. He said that would depend on how 
many times he had to pay toll to cross the river. 
One of his young men spoke up and said, ''We 
do not have to cross the river at all to go there. 
I worked for the old gentleman one season up 
there, and I would like to drive them up there." 
Then he said, ''I will send you up there for 
three dollars." I said, " Get your team ready, 
and we will be ready as soon as we eat dinner." 
Soon the young man came around with a fine 
turnout, and we were off in good shape. Our 
driver was a nice, gentlemanly fellow, well 
posted about the country. The day was delight- 
ful and roads good, though quite hilly, but our 
team was master of the situation, and made the 
nine miles in a little over one hour. Much of 


the country was hilly. It seemed to be a great 
wheat country. The young man knew just 
where to go, and we were soon landed at the 
front door. The young man inquired for Uncle 
Paul, and was told that he had gone with his 
stepson-in-law down to the river after a load of 
sand, about one and one-half miles. The young 
man said, "These people are friends of Uncle 
Paul from the East, and have called up to see 
him a little while.*' His wife, a second wife 
that he had married since he lived in that coun- 
try, after losing his first wife, said, "Come in, 
come in, he will be glad to see you." "Yes," 
says the young man, "and I will drive down 
and fetch him home," and off he drove, and 
very soon drove into the back yard. The old 
gentleman got out, and I met him, and gave 
him my hand, and said, "I don't suppose you 
know me." "No, I do not," said he. "Do 
you remember Uncle Samuel Lanphear back 
East in Rhode Island, and afterward in Alle- 
gany Co., N. Y. ?" "Yes, yes, but that was 
many years ago." "Do you remember that 
he had a son, Ethan?" "Yes, very well." 
"Well, I am that son," said I. The old man 
grabbed me, and gave me a good shaking. 
'' O, how glad I am to see you ! I have not 
seen a man before from the East that knew my 


friends there for the forty years I have lived 
here since leaving that country. How did you 
happen to come to see me?" "Well, we were 
on a tour in the western world, and came to 
Portland, and knowing that you came to Salem, 
Ore., I thought we would try and find you, and 
when we got to Salem, we learned where you 
were. We thought we would drive up and see 
you for two or three hours." 

"You are not going to leave here this day." 
"I suppose our man will have to take us back 
when he goes." He turned to the young man, 
and said, " Put your horses in the stable and 
feed them all you please, then you can go home; 
but you are not going to take these people away 
this day. When it is necessary for them to 
leave, my wife and I keep horses and a carriage, 
and we will attend to that." 

So we decided to stay over with them until 
the next day. We were not acquainted with 
his wife and family; but they all seemed very 
glad to see us, and that we took the pains to 
come and look up the old gentleman, and now 
you may guess that we had some tall visiting. 
The old lady and the young folks were for do- 
ing everything to please us. We did not desire 
anything extra got up on our account; but such 
meals as they gave for us were good enough 


for a king; and my wife said they had five kinds 
of sauce, and pies and cakes enough to feed a 
small camp-meeting. I had made arrangements 
to take the cars at Salem the next day at one 
o'clock for Portland. 

Be assured we visited nearly all night. They 
wished us to remain a few days so they could 
take us around to see the country. Where they 
lived was up on the highlands, and from their 
back yard we could look up and down the Wil- 
lamette valley and see parts of three counties; 
and the whole valley and the hills around 
seemed to look like one vast wheat field of thou- 
sands of acres. About ten o'clock the next day 
I said, '' I guess we had better be off for Salem 
soon." The old gentleman said, ''When you 
say you must go, I will order up the carriage." 
"I guess we had better be off so as not to have 
to hurry." The old man ordered the best team 
hitched up and drove to the door, and we were 
notified that the team was ready. We went 
out to get in, and the old gentleman and his 
wife followed and got into the carriage. He 
said, " Wife and I are going to drive you to 
town so that we can visit as long as we can." 
We had a pleasant time, and a great many ques- 
tions were asked, I assure you. The old gentle- 
man said, '' I shall think of a great many things 


to inquire about after you are gone." We drove 
up at the hotel, and we got out. I said to them, 
" Now get out, have the horses put in the sta- 
ble, and you stop and take dinner with us. The 
old man broke down, and said, "I can not do 
it," picked up the lines, shook hands, said good- 
by, and drove away to their home; and at one 
o'clock we took our train back to Portland, 
where we stopped at our hotel for the rest of 
the day and night. 

Reader, such visits as these can never be for- 
gotten. We strolled about town in the evening, 
and walked down around the Chinese theater. 
They are a singular people in their perform- 
ance. One act is kept up for a month before 
they are through with it. 

We returned to our hotel, when a gentleman 
called, and brought me a beautiful large paint- 
ing of their school building as a present, as I 
had spoken so well of the building. I folded 
it and placed it in our valise, and I have it now 
hanging in a frame at my home, for friends to 
see what Western people do in the school line. 

This is a great wheat country, but the wheat 
is usually mortgaged before it is grown. The 
most of it is shipped to Europe. Morning 
comes and we go next to the Great National 



We leave Portland, Ore., crossing the Wil- 
lamette River by ferry, and board the cars east- 
erly bound, and my better half begins to talk 
of home as v^^e head that v^ay. We examine 
our guidebook and map, and find ourselves 
3,232 miles from home. People talk about go- 
ing west to Kansas and the Mississippi States; 
but west is not far away until one goes beyond 
the Rocky Mountains, and to the Pacific Coast. 
We have now traveled more than 4,000 miles 
on our journey, and we are tired and weary of 
seeing. My wife says, ''I wish I were home; I 
have looked and admired until it seems as if 
I could look no more.'' But our train is rush- 
ing on, we come to the Columbia River, and 
our route is up by its side two hundred and 
forty miles. The river divides between Wash- 
ington and Oregon. The snow-capped moun- 
tains put in their appearance in the distance, 
the highest some 1,400 feet high. The country 
is mountainous, and usually high, the railroad 
track being at their brink, and for long dis- 
tances cuts in the rocky ledges thousands of 


feet above our heads. The river rushes by 
our side at times, and then it widens and is 
more placid and calm, the scenery wild and 

When we have passed some thirty miles up 
the river, the conductor passes through the 
train and announces that the train will stop 
fifteen minutes for the people to get out and 
view the falls. The train halts; everybody 
gets out, and as tired as we may have been, 
everybody's neck is stretched upward, and do 
you wonder? for here was a stream pouring 
over mountains 816 feet high, and only strik- 
ing once in the whole distance, only a little 
distance from our train, and then passes under 
the track into the main river. It is of such 
beauty and wildness that for a moment one 
forgets all weariness of seeing. The distance 
of fall is such that the whole stream breaks 
into a perfect spray, and spreads out as it 
extends; so much so that it takes the name of 
Horsetail Falls, it so resembles the tail of a 
white horse. The fifteen minutes' time ex- 
pires too soon, the bell rings, but our pleasant 
conductor waits till he sees the last passenger 
aboard before he orders train to move. Then 
on we go, everyone chatting about the beauti- 
ful scene. 


The scenery continues wild, and the river 
spreads out like little lakes, while rocks stand 
out from the shore hundreds of feet high, like 
pyramids, looking as if they might topple 
over by a rush of wind; but they are on a 
solid foundation, and the probabilities are that 
they have had the dash of waters from the time 
of the flood. Beyond, on the border of the 
river loom up monster trees, foui* to eight feet 
in diameter, and soaring upward 200 to 250 feet 
high, and some of them 100 to 1Y5 feet to the 
first limbs, the body being straight as an arrow. 
Washington is noted for her large trees and tall 
timber. As we pass on, we come to the dalles, 
so called. We enter a narrow gorge in the 
rocky cliffs, thousands of feet above our heads, 
and the river in seeming madness beneath our 
feet, roaring and tumbling amidst the points of 
rocks that seem determined not to yield to 
the torrents that have been fighting her right 
of way for thousands of years, and the tight 
still goes on to excite the thousands of travel- 
ers who pass through her exciting warfare. 
The valley is most of the way, thus far, so 
narrow, and the mountains so high, that we 
are shut out of the sight of the world beyond. 

A few fishermen are settled along the river, 
and now and then a few Chinamen are settled 


along to look after the railroad track. Some 
of them have fine gardens in the nooks and 
corners among the rocks around their houses. 
There is not much room for farming for a long 
distance; but now and then appears a plot of 
cultivated land amid the foothills, the water 
being pumped from the river for irrigation 
by force pumps driven by a large water-wheel 
set in the channel near the bank of the river 
and extending out into the stream. These 
were curiosities at first, as there were no 
buildings or persons near them. Necessity is 
the mother of invention, and thus the land is 
fed with water without clouds, and made to 
bring forth fruit for the world. But darkness 
sets in, and trusting ourselves in the hands 
of our faithful officers and the strength of the 
iron horse, we retire. 

Morning dawns, and we review our chart 
and find we have passed dangers seen and un- 
seen. We have crossed the gulch bridge and 
many a wild way, and find ourselves south of 
the great bend of the Columbia Kiver; we 
halt at Coleville Lake, Sprague, and other towns, 
crossing rivers and dales, and scenery wild, to 
Spokane Falls, and find ourselves crossing 
the north part of Idaho, amid rocks and hills 
rough and smooth, with settlers here and there 


in tents and huts, and some living in their 
wagons, and endeavoring to put in crops and 
make a start for a future home and happi- 
ness; and sure here is quiet, and real frontier 
life. We passed a little northwest of Walla 
Walla, where the Adventists now have a large 
school or college. We stopped at a little 
town a short time, and afterward found we 
had passed our niece and her husband. Elder 
D. T. Fero, who had just arrived there as mis- 
sionaries sent by the Seventh- day Adventists. 
If we had known it, how glad we would have 
been to stop off and make them a short visit. 
They are now stationed at Seattle. 

The country looks rather barren yet; the cat- 
tle of the ranches are to be seen upon and 
amid the thousand hills, and all goes to show 
that the earth was made for man. Our train 
pushes on, and we are left to consider the in- 
ventions of the age, and to think of what the 
next generation will bring to light in our land. 
But our train does not stop for us to think, and 
we soon find ourselves in Montana Territory, 
but bordering on the Cceur d' Alene Mountains, 
the Bitter Root, and enter the northern end of 
the Rockies. Up and on we go, across prairie, 
into the valleys amid mountains and through 
tunnels into the depths of the earth. We are 


on the up grade for the summit and mountain 
pass. We are tired of seeing, and yet every- 
thing is new and wild; we are in a new world 
to us, and out to see, and see we must, and the 
thousands of cattle, horses, and mules of the 
ranchers are enough to astonish the natives, 
and especially an Eastern man. We cast our 
eyes north, south, east, and west, and think of 
where we have been, and of the old saying that 
"Uncle Sam is rich enough to give us all a 
farm." We have passed through the rich val- 
ley of Idaho, where the big potatoes grew that 
took the premium at the great Philadelphia 
show. Being compelled to sleep one night in 
Montana we lost much of the scenery along the 
road. We crossed the big gulch bridge 226 
feet high and 8,685 feet long, and did not know 
it at the time; but our eyes were resting for the 
scenes of the morning. Morning comes and 
we are nearing the summit pass. The moun- 
tains are high, as we follow up the stream, our 
passageway being cut in the side of the rocky 
cliffs which extend hundreds of feet above our 
heads, while deep below are the dalles, where 
spray and mists ascend from her fighting 
stream forever and ever. But our faithful en- 
gines, like the donkeys of the tourists, hug tight 
to the pathway, and we are brought safely to 


the summit pass, 5,555 feet above the level of 
the sea, the highest point made on the North- 
ern Pacific Railroad. Our engines plunge into 
a tunnel, and next we find ourselves on the 
eastern slope pushing toward the Yellowstone 
valley. We halt at a little town of some 1,500 
inhabitants, built upon the grounds of the once 
famous gold diggings, where the hills had been 
made low and level in pursuit of the precious 
metal. Some of the surrounding hills are yet 
mined. The name of this town has slipped our 
mind, as many others have along the line. One 
of our engines is loosed from the train, as one 
can manage our train on the down grade. The 
way is rough and montainous, the clear-water 
brooks made from the snow-capped mountains 
rushed down amid the hills, and I thought of 
speckled trout, and if I were a boy again I 
would like to try my luck. But our train was 
not on a fishing excursion, and did not stop for 
fish or game. The grass looked more fresh and 
green, and the cattle and herds looked in better, 
condition than on the other side of the moun- 
tains, as we neared the Yellowstone valley. 

We arrived at Livingston at 2:30 o'clock p. m. 
This is the junction to change for the Yellow- 
stone National Park, and we stop ofl' with a 
view to visit that place. This is our only op- 


portunity for ev^er visiting her curiosities, as we 
are getting to be old folks. It is now the first 
day of June, and we learn that the regular open- 
ing season is not usually until the 15th, and the 
trains did not run for Cinnabar, the nearest 
point by rail to the Park, only once a day, and 
it had gone for that day. So we made up our 
minds to lay over, and pass the time as best we 
could. The morning came and a train left early 
in the day. The railroad is a narrow gauge. 
It is fifty-two miles to Cinnabar, and then eight 
miles to the only cottage yet regularly opened, 
and we had to be taken that distance by big 
teams, as it was up hill and hard to climb. 
The route is up the Little Yellowstone valley. 
This valley is quite broad as we leave the Big 
Yellowstone valley, and is beautiful and fertile. 
The cattle herds and donkeys looked sleek and 
fine, the bunchgrass being abundant, and said 
to be the best for stock. The mountains are 
high an each side, and as we follow up the 
stream they seem to draw together nearer and 
nearer. We come to Devil's Slide (so called 
by the Indians). This strange freak of nature 
is peculiar. The mountain is high at our right, 
and looks as if it had sometime slid out for 
a long distance, leaving two solid walls at 
even distance from each other from top to bot- 


torn of the mountain, standing out in bold re- 
lief, as if made by hands, of the best material 
and masonry, like a walled street 20 to 50 feet 
high on each side. 

We pass on and enter a deep gorge and 
canon where we are shut in from daylight, only 
as we look upward thousands of feet through 
the narrow channel os^er our heads. Then we 
open out into broader space, and Electric Peak 
is before us, so called from its being largely 
stocked with iron ore and other metals that 
attract lightning in time of storms, and can 
be seen flickering around its peak thousands 
of feet in the heavens. Our train comes to 
a stop, the mountains have headed her off. 
She is at Cinnabar, and can go no farther. 
Here we find a big stage and four-horse teams 
to take freight and passengers and everything 
that is needed for all uses in the Park and 
to live upon. They take us the eight miles, 
and we are landed at the big hotel and cottage. 
It has been an up-hill business; but we are 
here in the great National Park all the same. 
The road is up and down; but Uncle Sam owns 
the Park, and has made the roads as smooth 
as possible. 



We had read of the National Park before we 
left home, and in our minds we compared it 
to Eastern parks. But when we arrive here, 
it is altogether beyond our comprehension. 
My pen is not able to tell it. We are told it 
is fifty miles wide and seventy-five miles long, 
and located in as wild part of the Rocky 
Mountains as could be selected; bounded on 
the west by Idaho, on the north by Montana, 
and on the east by Wyoming. 

It is now the 3d day of June, and we have 
had a good rest. The sun has risen, and 
stretches its rays of light over the heavens 
and mountain peaks into my window as we 
arise. The heavens are clear as a sunbeam, 
our eyes are dazzled; for before us for miles 
up and d( wn the valley, the great mammoth 
springs appear up and down the mountain, 
with trellis after trellis hundreds of feet above 
each other, extending across the valley, glisten- 
ing in the sun like mountains of marble of the 
finest white; and others tinged with streaks and 
spots of red and purple, yellow and blue, 



according to color of formation emanating 
from the various springs that have been send- 
ing forth their sediment from tlie earth for 
thousands of years, with her boiling water of 
hot, hotter, and hottest, up and down the 
mountains above and below us, with hot steam 
ascending into the clear sky, as if emanating 
from the bottomless pit. We are awe-struck; 
we have never read of or seen such sights be- 
fore. We are in the great National Park I We 
would be glad to describe, but it is impossible 
— one must see for himself in order to appre- 
ciate. It is doubtless the greatest curiosity of 
nature in our nation or perhaps in the world, 
and it was wisdom in the nation to set it apart 
to ever remain in its natural state as the great 
show of the nation and for the world. 

I will give the altitude of some of the highest 
mountains in the Park, some of which are cov- 
ered with snow at all seasons of the year. 
Sphinx, 10,880; Emigrant Peak, 10,620; Elec- 
tric Peak, 11,121; Mount Everts 7,600; Bun- 
sen's Peak, 9,500; Quadrant Mountain, 10,127; 
Mount Washington, 10,310; Danraven Peak, 
8,868; Grand Teton, Idaho, 13,691; the high- 
est just outside the Park, as I understand. 
Other mountains are intermixed, and amid and 
on top are geysers and hot and cold springs 


constantly pouring forth, some shooting con- 
stant streams high up into the heavens, in 
forms of beauty and rainbow in the sunlight, 
while others spout by intervals, as if shot up 
by explosives below, or as a wounded whale 
might spout. These have piled up forma- 
tions of various and variegated colors in trel- 
lis or mounds of great beauty. Many locations 
are to be found where the geyser or spring has 
dried up or sunk away, leaving caves seventy-five 
to one hundred and fifty feet deep, and some of 
them are provided with ladders to descend. We 
entered one of these with a cowboy pilot, but 
the damp smell and darkness discouraged us 
long before we reached bottom; but my pilot 
proceeded and brought up a specimen of the 
formation one hundred feet below. These for- 
mations are very hard in and about the old 
dry geysers or springs, though open, somewhat 
resembling the open fresh burr stone (mill- 
stone). The water from the Mammoth Springs 
seem clear as it boils up, yet there is a sediment 
that settles as it spreads out and settles much 
resembling slacked lime or magnesia. This 
forms in basin form, and hardens, the water 
cooling and disappearing. Thus the trellises are 
formed from mountain to mountain referred to. 
The big Mammoth Spring is nearly three 


miles up the mountain from the river, and it 
flows each way, covering acres, and produces 
coral-like formations of great beauty as the 
water evaporates and passes away. Springs 
exist all the way down the distance to the river, 
and the valley is nearly tilled with their forma- 
tions, at a depth that no one knows, and not a 
drop of water from all these springs ever 
reaches the river below; all disappear in this 
porous formation. 

The great hotel is built upon this formation, 
and near the basin holes of several old dry gey- 
sers or hot springs, large and deep, and all un- 
derneath seems like a shell. While excavating 
preparatory for the foundation for the hotel, a 
man fell into the abyss below, and from the 
poisonous atmosphere nearly suffocated before 
he could be got out. We visited one cave that 
we could look down into, where the atmosphere 
was so poisonous that birds and animals that 
chanced to enter fell dead at the bottom. Trees 
can be found imbedded in this formation, and 
only now and then a limb is seen outside. A 
horse shoe or a wire basket hung where this 
water can drip on it a few days will become 
covered, and look like coral, or sea-willow that 
grows on the rocks in the bottom of the ocean. 
The boys make it a business to make them for sale 


to visitors. Northwest of this valley of springs, 
another valley of springs and formations ap- 
pears. From this valley comes a stream of 
pure cold water running into this valley of 
formations that would naturally disappear; 
but to save it for use, a large flume, or 
spout, is built that brings this pure water over 
this formation down in front of the big hotel; 
that supplies the hotels, dwellings, cattle, horses 
and every want, and empties into one of the 
great geyser holes and forever disappears. 

The sights as we are driven from Cinnabar 
are wild, and the streams rush along down the 
mountains pure as crystal, foaming as it fights 
its way amid the rocks; and now and then 
a man or boy may be seen sitting on the point 
of some rock fishing. He throws his line down 
among the rocks and foaming water, and we 
watch him, and soon you will see him pulling 
hand over hand, and then comes a fine large 
fish, flopping, and it is made fast and out goes 
his line again. This takes our attention, and 
we forget the roughness and crookedness of the 
road. The roads at places are steep, and the 
teams have to scratch as if life were at stake to 
pull us up. There are some three hundred or 
four hundred miles of drives or streets among 
these mountains for carriages, and as many 


miles of narrow tracks up and around the 
mountains for horseback riding, and for packed 
mules whereby provisions are taken to visitors 
that camp up high in the mountains. Besides 
this, there are footpaths cut up and around the 
mountains for pedestrians to climb as high as 
their strength will allow. All this is done at 
the expense of Uncle Sam. 

These streets are laid out and named as accu- 
rately as they are in any of our cities. Thou- 
sands of people visit the park from home and 
abroad, some spending the whole warm sea- 
son, tenting out in rented tents, and have their 
provisions brought to them on pack mules or 
donkeys. 1 have met Europeans that say, " I 
wonder how it is that Americans come to Eu- 
rope for scenery, when they do not know what 
they have in their own country." 

The laws are as strict in and about the park 
as they are in our cities. No person is allowed 
to cut a tree, disfigure any natural formation, 
or to kill any bird, squirrel, or other wild ani- 
mal (unless it be in self defense). Everything 
was presumed to be protected in its natural 
state, and to violate willfully makes a person 
liable to a heavy fine or imprisonment. Thus 
squirrels and other small animals, the quail, the 
partridge, and other birds become as domesti- 


cated, and will cross your path or run among the 
people without fear. 

It is said a few buffalo, bears, and other 
large animals live in some of the wild and high- 
est parts of the park, and that if chased outside 
the park return to the park for protection. I 
did not visit in their domain. There is no law 
against catching fish, as the fish follow up the 
streams in abundance. 

Persons are allowed to save specimens of the 
formations through which they cut roads or 
streets, or to get specimens from the dry geyser 
holes. Visitors that wish to tent and shun the 
warm season here must get a license to pitch a 
tent on such a street or mountain, and if they 
desire to move to some other locality, must have 
a permit. Some localities are heavily timbered, 
and deer as well as other animals roam unmo- 
lested. We could not see all the fine scenery, 
as it was early in the season and the roads had 
not become settled. But a person to take in all 
needs to spend a month or two. For me to 
think of writing up all that we saw in the time 
we remained there would make a book of itself, 
so I shall liave to leave that for others to write 
up or others to go to see for themselves. There 
are lots of cowboys about the park ready to 
inform you all about it, and the country, and 


the ranches, etc. Some of them own fifty to 
one hundred donkeys, mules, or horses all 
equipped with saddles and bridles for renting to 
visitors, to ride or carry provisions. One of 
these young men was at liberty most of the time, 
and was ready to do all he could for our accom- 
modation. He was an Eastern boy, and had 
been in the ranch and cattle country for eight 
years, and now owned about seventy-five horses 
and donkeys, and seemed to be well off. He 
said he intended to go East and get him a wife 
sometime. When we took the stage to leave, he 
mounted one of his ponies and followed us to 
Cinnabar, eight miles, where we took the cars. 
When we arrived in the Park, we were igno- 
rant of the laws, as they had not yet put up 
the warning notices for the season about the 
hotels, etc. I got up one morning, ate my 
breakfast, and decided to climb the mountain 
to the great mammoth spring, where I could 
take a broad view of the mountain scenery. I 
of course was looking for specimens of curi- 
osity. I wound my way up and around bluffs 
and mountains until I arrived at the mammoth 
spring, which was the highest of all. This 
spring covers an acre or two on the top of the 
mountain. The spring boils up and flows out- 
ward, forming a rim around, and now and then 


overflows, forming basins, and this overflow 
brings with it this sediment that flows out, the 
water evaporating, leaving this sediment in 
formations most beautiful in the shape of fern- 
leaves, and sometimes in the shape of a lady's 
hand and as white as marble when hardened. 

While strolling around this spring, I ob- 
served one of these beautiful formations, and 
thought to myself I would like to break this 
loose as a beautiful specimen to take down to 
our hotel for a show, I found a piece of wood 
that I could use, and set myself at work to 
break around it, and save it in its beauty. I 
finally succeeded. Across another mountain 
about one mile away some of the officers live- 
They could look across the valley and see me 
at work at my specimen. I was violating the 
law, all this time, but did not know it, and as 
I came down the mountain, I was carrying it 
on my hand showing it to everyone I met, all 
admiring its beauty. The ofiicers talked it 
over, and an under officer said to a higher 
oflicer, "What shall we do with that man? I 
think he does not understand the law; if he 
did, he would keep it out of sight, and not be 
showing it to everyone." 

This under officer was boarding where I was 


"Well, you talk with him; and if you find 
him innocent, tell him to go and ' sin no more.' " 
said the other officer. 

When I arrived at the hotel, I had it in my 
hand; and showing it to the cowboys and 
others, said if I had that at my home just as 
perfect as now, I would not take five dollars 
for it. One of the boys spoke up, and said, 
"If the officers should catch you with it, it 
might cost you ^500. It is against the law to 
break any formation of any kind. The people 
would not allow it in the house lest they should 
be accused of violating the law." 

The officer came down for his dinner, and 
we sat at the same table as usual. After I had 
finished, I got up and walked into the sitting 
room, and sat down; and soon the officer came 
in and sat down by me, and said, "You were 
up at the mammoth spring this forenoon, were 
you not? " 

"Yes, sir," said I. 

'• You broke off a specimen up there, did you 
not ? " 

"Yes, sir." 

"Did you not know you were violating the 
laws of the park ? " 

"No, sir." 

"We saw you all the time from where we 


were, and concluded you were innocent, or you 
would keep it out of sight, and not be show- 
ing it to everybody. I asked the head officer 
what was best to do with you. He said, talk 
with him, and if you find him innocent, tell him 
*to go and sin no more.' " 

They were gentlemen, and I could readily see 
that the law was just, for if there were no law, 
the thousands of people that go there might dis- 
figure every beauty of the park. But now the 
week is passing away, and our time is about up 
to be on the move again. Let everybody go 
and see the beauties of nature in the great Na- 
tional Yellowstone Park. We must be off for 
Minneapolis and St. Paul. 



This is now Friday afternoon. We take the 
stage to Cinnabar, where we take the car for 
Livingston, and change on to the Northern Pa- 
cific road and run to Billings, about one hun- 
dred miles, and stop over until Sunday. We 
are now in the Big Yellowstone valley, one of 
the finest valleys of the Northwest. It is a 
broad valley. The mountains are far away, but 
we can see the herds of cattle, horses, mules, 
and sheep by the thousands away on the hills 
and mountains far and near. One must learn 
to measure distances by his eyes, somewhat. 
This can be done by a little practice and obser- 
vation. If the cattle look very small, you may 
know that they are miles away. It is deceiv 
ing as to distances until we learn. A stranger 
stopped oft' at Livingston overnight to wait for 
the cars the next day, about eight or nine 
o'clock. He got up in the morning, and said 
to the landlord that he guessed he would take 
a walk up on the mountain while waiting for 
breakfast and the cars. 

" Well," said the landlord, ''if you are going 


up there you had better take along your din- 



'' Why, how far is it?" 

"Only about fourteen miles." He did not 

I am now at Billings. This is a great cattle 
market. The cattle from north for one hun- 
dred to two hundred miles clear up to British 
Columbia possessions are driven here for mar- 
ket. Here we meet cowboys from that northern 
country, from whom we are able to learn much 
about that country and the manner of doing 
business. We learn that in that section the 
winters are very severe and changeable; mer- 
cury drops to fifty degrees below zero; yet the 
cattle get their own living. They are accli- 
mated to the country, and learn to watch the 
weather and guard against storms, and from 
instinct seem to judge of coming storms better 
than men themselves. In that region the hills 
are not very high, and the valleys are usually 
narrow. The changes are very sudden; mer- 
cury may drop down to fifty degrees, and in an 
hour a western breeze may strike the moun- 
tains, and the snow be melting on the hills, and 
before the men would think of a change they 
would see the cattle flocking from the valleys 
to the hills. On the hills the blizzards blow 


the snow off the ground, and as soon as the 
warm breeze strikes them, it is good picking for 
the cattle. They graze liere until there are 
indications of a blizzard coming. Then they 
seem to understaad it, and rush into the val- 
leys, and there remain, rooting around in the 
snow, picking the high grass as best they can, 
until another change comes, when they rush to 
the hills again. 

The cowboys live in dugouts (so called) built 
up inside with logs to keep it from caving, cov- 
ered with poles, then brush, then with almost 
two feet of earth, which makes a warm hut of 
it. Every ranch has a house of this kind, and 
the boys have jolly times in getting together. 
All have their bronchos to ride back and forth, 
and to look after the herds. This whole coun- 
try is divided up into ranches. Sometimes two 
or three men will herd together, and occupy 
eight or ten thousand acres. Every herdsman 
has a special mark for his cattle. They have 
strict laws among themselves, and if any owner 
of cattle should disfigure the mark on any other 
man's cattle, they drive him from the country. 
In the spring they hire a man that goes through 
the herds and marks every calf after the mark 
of its mother. That calf may grow up and its 
owner never see it. 


When the cattle get fat, ready for market, 
the ranchmen get together and appoint one or 
two men to go to Billings, and contract the 
cattle for that whole section of country. The 
drov^ers go to Billings, where they meet these 
salesmen. The drovers inquire of them as to 
how many cattle they can furnish from their 
section of country that will average so and so. 
They answer from one to four thousand, as they 
think or know. A bargain is closed, and the 
salesmen return and send word to all the own- 
ers of cattle to select all their cattle that will 
average so and so, and drive them to such a 
ranch. All the cattle are got together, and the 
salesmen and a few cowboys with their dogs 
drive this big herd to Billings. This saves 
great expense to what it would be for each 
herdsman to deliver his own cattle. These cat- 
tle are weighed and entered on a book to the 
credit of the man that the mark indicates. The 
whole account is figured up together, and the 
salesman takes the money and goes home, and 
calls all the stock owners together, and every 
man is paid his money according to the weight 
of cattle that is placed to his credit. Each 
man pays his proportion of costs to the market. 
The business is done as accurately as a banking 
house does its business. 


We left Billings in the evening, and thus 
lost much of the beauty of the Yellowstone 
valley. The naorning brought us to Glendive 
Mountain, and at 8: 30 we crossed the line into 
Dakota. We stopped at Medora, the great beef- 
packing town, on the little Missouri Kiver. 
While stopping at this point the passengers 
were amused by a cowboy attempting to break 
a wild pony to the saddle. Some of their po- 
nies are very wild and high tempered, but when 
one is conquered, it makes the best and most 
durable animal for ranch use. The pony was 
lassoed and brought into a straw stable, sad- 
dled and bridled, with lasso on the horn of the 
saddle; another boy astride his pony came out 
of the stable to lead or follow in the strides, as 
the case might develop. The wild pony was let 
loose, and it was with difficulty tliat he could be 
kept still enough for the boy to get into his sad- 
dle. But he finally succeeded. No sooner 
done than the animal was bounding to get him 
off. Of all the kicking, jumping in the air, side- 
wise and every way, down on the ground and 
up again; and sometimes it would seem that 
every foot was in the air at the same time. 
The scene became terrible and terrific, and 
everyone seemed breathless as they looked upon 
it, when suddenly the animal threw himself, 


rolled over, rolling his rider off, jumped up so 
quickly that the boy r-ould not gain his saddle- 
The pony was oft' quick as a jift'; the boy grabbed 
the end of the rope that uncoiled from the horn 
of the saddle, was dragged a short distance, but 
was compelled to let loose to save his life. 
Now for the chase. The boy on the pony let 
loose his steed at the best of his speed, with 
lasso in hand, and was away with lightning 
speed to lasso and bring back the wild pony. 
They crossed the plain around the bluft' out of 
sight, in the mountains, and our conductor 
cried out, "All aboard," and our train was off. 
However anxious, we never knew any more 
about the fracas. 

I forgot to tell you about the herds of sheep 
of Montana, as we came through. They were 
to be seen by the thousands along the plains 
and foot hills of the mountains, and what at- 
tracted us most was to see a woman on her 
pony, and her shepherd dog, galloping along the 
mountains above and beyond the sheep, back 
and forth, to protect the sheep from wild ani- 
mals, and the prairie wolf from stealing away 
the young lambs. It was an interesting sight. 
How would our Eastern girls like the shepherd 
girl's life!* 

We are on the move again. We make short 


stops at Tiickerton, Bismarck, and other small 
towns that have sprung up like mushrooms of a 
night, in Dakota. We are in a land of beautiful 
lakes and prairies, and amid the remarkable 
wheat fields of the Northwest; crossing one said 
to be fourteen miles across. Talk about wheat 
fields in the East — nonsense ! Go to Dakota 
if you want to see how business is done on a large 
scale. The elevators along the railroad are a 
sight to behold. It was told me that one man 
could weigh ten thousand bushels of wheat into 
one of the enormous storehouses in two hours. 
The wheat is taken up by elevators to the top 
of the building, and emptied into a hopper or 
bin that holds one thousand bushels at a time. 
This is set on scales. The wheat is weighed, 
the bottom drops out, and the grain falls below, 
when the bottom closes, and it is ready for the 
next thousand, and so on until the storehouse is 
filled, and there remains until the market calls 
for it. 

But we pass on overnight, and the morning 
finds us amid the woodlands and lakes of Min- 
nesota, and next at Anoka, where we strike the 
Mississippi River in the lumber region and 
amid the mammoth sawmills of our nation. The 
river is filled with saw-logs and timbers. But 
we pass on and soon arrive at Minneapolis, the 


great city of "new process flour " of the world, 
and we stop to rest, and visit our friend, T. E. 
Brown, who visited us at the time of the Cen- 
tennial show at Philadelphia, Pa., and who 
used to be our neighbor in Nile, Allegany 
County, N. Y. 



We feel now we are near home, though some 
eleven hundred miles awaj. We are on ground 
we have trod upon before, some twenty-five 
years ago when the population was only 
about two thousand. Now it has about one 
hundred and fifty thousand, and is the leading 
town of the northwest. At my first visit St. 
Paul was in the lead by several thousand in- 
habitants; but now Minneapolis is in the lead 
some five thousand. The towns started nine 
miles apart; now the north line of St. Paul is 
the south line of Minneapolis. The water 
power of the falls at Minneapolis has given it 
the advantage. The great wheat country and 
lumber give them the stock and opportunity to 
excel in manufacturing more fiour and lumber 
than any other city on our continent, if not in 
the world. Each of these cities has spread out 
so that their street lamps meet each other, and 
practically they are one city, though they hate 
each other with a hatred that makes the devil's 
animosity to holy water seem the tenderest 
affection. Minneapolis, it is said, has the facili- 


ties for putting up seven thousand barrels of 
flour per day, and all the mills combined can 
put up thirty thousand in twenty-four hours. 
The saw mills do business upon about the same 
scale. It is a marvel to see them handle every- 
thing by machinery. They utilize even every 
slab into lath or kindling wood. Their public 
buildings are becoming enormous. 

We stop to reflect. We have now crossed 
the continent by way of Denver, Colo., over the 
Rocky Mountains by the Rio Grande Railroad 
to Utah and Salt Lake City; across the desert, 
over the Sierra Nevadas to Sacramento, Gal., 
and San Francisco; up the Pacific Ocean six 
hundred miles; thence up the Columbia River 
to Portland, Ore. ; to Salem, the capital, by 
rail; thence by the Northern Pacific Railroad 
to Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minn., and now 
as we move eastward, we cross the Mississippi 
River and find ourselves in Wisconsin, on terri- 
tory that I traversed or visited beyond the 
lakes, as long ago as IHtttt. We make a short 
stop at Milwaukee and a short time at Chicago, 
and now what do I see compared to what we saw 
then ? Then a city of only about eleven thou- 
sand or twelve thousand inhabitants. What a 
change I 

But we are oft' now for home, and our train 


lands us in New York, and we arrive at our 
home after making a journey of about 8,000 
miles without accident or sickness to lay us up 
during the whole round and distance. Found 
all things in order at home, and were very 
thankful that we had had so pleasant a journey 
all around. 



This trip is a pleasant one for the warm sea- 
son. We left New York by the New York 
Central Railroad to Troy; thence to Saratoga 
Springs, where we stop over for a few days. 
This is a beautiful little town, and a great place 
of resort for pleasure and public gatherings; for 
politicians, picnics, and social gatherings. The 
springs and the shady groves and fine drives 
make it very entertaining, and thousands resort 
here for pleasure and comfort. Lake George 
and the Adirondacks are conveniently near, 
and Lake Charaplain near by makes a pleasant 
resort for sailing, fishing, etc. 

We stopped a few days at the Springs, and 
then at the lake, and on to Rouse's Point, where 
we cross the line into Canada, thence by cars 
to a town called Prairie, thence through the 
little narrow farms that have been cut up by par- 
ents for their children until the land looks like 
narrow fenced roads for miles. This seemed 
strange to me until I learned the cause, and then 
it seemed to me that if all were good neighbors 



thej might dispense with the crooked rail fences 
and save expense, and could cultivate the land 
much better. The population seemed to be a 
mixture of Indians, French, and Canadians; but I 
could not understand a word from an j of them, so 
passed on to the Grand Trunk Railroad bridge, 
which is nearly two miles long, over to Montreal. 
Montreal is not a new place to visit for ns, yet 
it is a rather delightful city to stop in, in warm 
weather. A drive around the mountain, eight 
miles, is fine almost anytime, and the churches 
and cathedrals, stores, and public drives near 
the river are cool and bracing, and altogether a 
traveler can spend a few days quite comfort- 

But we, of our make-up, like to see, and pass 
on to see something new. So we take the cars 
on the Canadian side up the river through the 
farming lands, cattle- raising and cheese-making 
country to the Thousand Islands, and stop over- 
night in a rather dull town of plenty of saloons. 
But we kept sober, and early the next morning 
we took the first boat over through the Islands, 
and landed at Round Isle, where we found in 
waiting for us, my sister, Lucy Maxson, who 
married Dr. E. R. Maxson, who owns a cottage 
on that island for a place of resort in the hot 
season. The hot season was drawing to a close, 


and many of the visitors were leaving the 
Islands; but we stopped a few days and enjoyed 
our stay, while our sister gathered up things for 
removal for the season to her home in Syra- 
cuse, N. Y. All things ready, we all board the 
train by way of Watertown to Adams Center, 
and we stop over with a friend, while sister con- 
tinues on her journey home to prepare for our 
reception to make her family a visit for a few 

We leave Adams Center by cars for Syracuse, 
and arrive in good season and find all well. 
The old doctor and son practice together, and so 
arrange their business that we have a chance at 
visiting and sight-seeing. Our visit closes and 
we are off for home by way of Binghamton and 
on to New York, and thence home. And now 
the heat of the season is over, and we settle 
down for our business and for the winter. Try 
the trip, and see how you like it. 



We left Plainfield by the Central Railroad to 
the Junction, changed cars to the Delaware & 
Lackawana, when we soon crossed the Dela- 
ware River, passing the beautiful scenery 
through the gap, and on beyond into the moun- 
tains of Pennsylvania. Our engine puffed and 
tugged up this and that gorge, around this 
curve and that, across deep gulches, through a 
country which for miles was made seemingly 
for no other purpose than to hold the earth 
together, as it is so poor that man can not raise 
anything to subsist upon; consequently human 
beings are scarce in this region. Yet it is a 
romantic route, and after traveling nearly forty 
miles by the railroad one can look distinctly 
down through the gap from the mountain top, 
a scene most beautiful to behold. 

As we rush on, peak after peak looms up to 
the right and to the left, and the small brooks 
ripple among the rocks, making the scenery 
grand to behold; and I thought if I were 
a boy again I would like to turn angler, and 
try my luck at fishing for the beautiful speckled 


trout as of yore. But I can an old boy now, 
and no time to fish; and we push on up, up, 
and now we begin to see what this part of the 
world was made for; for here we are in the 
coal and iron mines, and lumber region of 
Pennsylvania, and soon we arrive at Scranton. 
And sure, this is a city set on a hill; but had it 
not been for the coal and iron in that region 
the world would never have received any bene- 
fit or light therefrom. But as it is, it proves of 
great value to the world, and the wealth thereof 
is unbounded. 

But we pass on down the mountains, amid 
crags and rocks, brooks and turns, as if the 
breeching on the engine was broken, and we 
find ourselves steaming up the beautiful and 
fertile valley of the Susquehanna Kiver, and 
stop at the pleasant town of Binghampton. 
There we cross the Erie Railroad, and pass on 
northerly through a most beautiful country 
toward Syracuse, the city noted for catching 
slaves during the time of the fugitive slave 
law. We lived in the State of New York at 
that time, and no w of what we write, and 
know that some of the slave catchers came 
pretty near smelling gunpowder, and did not 
get many negroes there, either. 

But we stopped short of that city, and put 


up for the night at Cortland. The weather was 
beautiful, and in the morning we took cars on 
the Oswego branch of the Midland Eailroad 
through the beautiful dairy country to Deruyter. 
This place is beautifully situated in Madison 
County. The good people long ago reared a 
large stone edifice for an academy, and for 
years kept it alive; but a large proportion of 
the inhabitants about this place were fond of 
whisky and horse racing, and now the academy 
is dead, and two or three licensed taverns are 
in full blast there. 

Near this place the S. D. Baptist denomina- 
tion held their annual conference the week we 
were there. Delegates were there from many 
of the churches in the United States, and over 
one thousand of this persuasion were together 
there. On leaving the place, we went for tlie 
cars, it being the next day after the close of the 
conference. The road not being informed, 
they were not prepared with coaclies to take 
such a crowd, so baggage and flat cars were 
arranged with seats from the depot as best 
could be done, and on to Norwich we did go. 
We took seats with the dominies on the plat- 
form car, where we had a chance to view the 
beautiful landscape, and we greatly enjoyed it, 
the weather being beautiful. Our engine puffed 


and blowed, as the grade to the mile sometimes 
was eighty-four feet. 

At Norwich the party divided, some for the 
west, Dorth, and south, but we took the Midland 
road to the east, and on we went over hill and 
dale, sometimes apparently on stilts of iron one 
hundred feet high, and then on solid mountains 
made of stone, mortar, and clay by the great 
Jehovah. As we passed along on the high- 
lands, we could look down in the deep valleys 
and on the hillsides beyond, and see mapped 
out the beautiful dairy farms, with flocks of 
cows of ten to one hundred or so, for the hills 
in this section are cultivated as well as the val- 
leys below. In these valleys are made the big 
cheeses found in our cities, some of which also 
go to Europe. But our engine does n't wait for 
us to sketch landscape, for on it must go, as a 
hard road is before us before we reach the cities 
by the seashore. On we go, up, up, and a big 
mountain appears before. We come to a stand- 
still, as if this was the end, and we were never 
to go ahead any more. But a switch is turned 
behind us, and we are backing up the hill on the 
other side. 

We arrive at tlie summit, and a switch is 
turned ahead of the engine, and soon on the 
plain of the mountains we were going lightning 


speed; but we soon came to a halt, for we were too 
high up for the plain below, so we were switched 
down as before, and now we find ourselves in a 
more desolate-looking place or country, apparent- 
ly new and wild. But the engine does n't wait; it 
is down grade, and it goes on with thundering 
strides. She plunges into mountains of dark- 
ness, but always fetches us out safe on the other 
side. And now we find ourselves on the east 
branch of the Delaware, in a wild wilderness 
world. We look up, and it is rocks and crags 
over our heads, and beneath is the river bottom, 
with her rocks and eelpots as set by some wild 
man. But we don't stop here to lament or 
mourn, for it is some of God's creating, and his 
foundation is strong. But up we go out of this 
valley, and down we come on to the beautiful 
farm lands near Middleton, where we strike the 
Erie road. Here we change cars into Erie, 
when we are jerked through to New York, 
mostly after dark, without observation, and we 
skedaddle for our humble home in Plainfield, 
the beautiful city of the plains. 


Mr. Hall 
Edna Hall 

Mrs. Hall 
Dudley Hall 

A. Judson Hall came to me at three years of age, a fatherless boy. 1 
brought liim up, ana he was a faithful and trusty boy. At nineteen years 
of age he enlisted in the Eig:hty-fifth New York Volunteers. Was taken 
prisoner, and was eleven months in Southern prisons, where he came near 
to his death. 



We left our beautiful citj of Plainfield July 
1, 1878, for a mountainous and cooler clime. 
We passed over the mountains by Wilkesbarre, 
thence on to Elmira and Hornellsville, and 
thence into Allegany County among the hills of 
my boyhood. Here is the tip-top summit of 
the Erie Kailroad. We remain a few days, and 
find the mountain breezes refreshing, and the 
nights so cool as to require two blankets to 
make one comfortable. And did n't we sleep 
sweetly after leaving New Jersey's heat of 95° ? 

But we are out for a strike, and pass on to 
Glean, Cattaraugus County; and here is the 
Allegany River, and a busy town; for here is 
a receiving basin for the pipes from the oil re- 
gion. But not being satisfied, we take passage 
on the narrow gauge railroad, and for two hours 
we worm ourselves over the mountains, through 
cities of oil derricks, of which it is said, there 
are nearly five thousand in this region, and we 
arrive at the town of Bradford, eighteen miles 
from Olean. This is a wonderfully rough and 
good-for-nothing country, save for the oil stored 



away in the rocks thousands of feet below the 
surface. But Providence made nothing in vain, 
and so thousands of people find employment 
here, while they must subsist upon the products 
of a more fertile country. 

Here we find ourselves in the midst of a 
lively city of about ten thousand inhabitants. 
It is a city made up of representatives from all 
nations, and a poor place for one of unsettled or 
unsteady habits; for grog-shops are more plen- 
tiful, if possible, than in Plainfield. Oil is so 
plenty and prices so low that the storage will 
not hold the flood. Oil is wasting by the thou- 
sands of gallons. At Tarport, I saw quite a 
river of oil running down the mountain, and 
the small streams are covered. Were oil worth 
$1.50 per barrel, men could make fortunes in 
dipping it from the streams. It is said there 
are pools of oil in places ten feet deep. There 
is a network of pipes in every direction, and it 
seems as if the earth is becoming saturated for 
a great conflagration all through this region. 
Oil is worth here to-day about sixty-eight cents 
per barrel. 

But I must prepare to worm myself out of 
this region over the Allegany Eiver and up to 
its head waters for a rest, for we are after the 
cool breezes of the highlands, and we intend to 


cross over to the head waters of the Genesee 
River before we return to Plaintield. The coun- 
try on our trip thus far has been beautiful. The 
hills and woodlands are of a lovely green, and 
the late rains have given a wonderfully healthy 
growth to the crops on the fertile hillsides and 
in the rich valleys which we have passed over 
in our journey. The apple crop, which was 
thought to be nearly destroyed by the late frost, 
does not seem to be affected on the highlands, 
where there is a prospect of an abundant crop. 
The dairy country seems to flow abundantly 
with milk, cheese, and butter; but the farmers 
grieve awfully at selling cheese for five or five 
and a half cents per pound, and butter at one 

We stop off in Little Genesee, N. Y. We 
are still among the mountain breezes. This 
town is situated among the head waters of the 
Allegany and Genesee Rivers, and it is border- 
ing on the north line of Pennsylvania, and was 
once one of the heaviest-timbered sections in 
western Kew York; but now since the lumber 
is nearly cut away, it has become one of the 
most fertile towns in this section. The farmers 
are largely in the dairy business and stock rais- 
ing, and go in for the best of stock in cattle and 
horses. I was shown a one-year-old colt that 


weighed 1,100 pounds. I have not seen so heavy 
crops in any township since leaving New Jer- 
sey. There is one remarkable thing about this 
town: It has been settled nearly seventy years, 
and has never granted a license to sell ardent 
spirits, and never has furnished a pauper for the 
poorhouse. The early settlers of this town were 
largely New Englanders, and quite largely S. 
D. Baptists, and for a time it was called Little 
Rhode Island. The putting down of oil wells 
has largely spread over the southern part of 
Allegany Co. They have come to a scientific 
method in putting down wells, and working 
them. They bore down until they strike the 
right kind of sand rock and oil, if they have to 
go down 2,000 feet. They then sink a torpedo 
box, or nitroglycerine blast to the bottom, con- 
nected with a wire that ignites the torpedo. 
This shatters and shakes up the sand rock, and 
if a good well, the oil will immediately begin to 
flow. The rock in which the oil is found is of a 
porous and sandy nature, and the oil flows out 
much like molasses draining from a sugar cask, 
until it becomes dry, leaving no vacuum or hole 
in the rock or earth from which the oil is taken. 
The excitement follows wherever oil is struck, 
much as it does where gold is discovered in the 
gold regions. Owners of land, good or poor, if 


oil is struck on or near, immediately begin to 
count on their wealth, and at such times the men 
that sell out while the excitement is kept up 
make the most money. On the whole, I am 
inclined to think there is more money lost than 
made out of the oil speculation. But it is time 
I returned home to look after business matters, 
and home I go. 




We left the citj of Plainfield April 28, 1889, 
making our first stop at Washington, D. C, 
thence on to Richmond, a place familiar during 
the Civil war. We cross the Potomac near 
Georgetown, and the various battlefields are 
revived in our memory, and also the many 
hardships which the boys in blue had to pass 
through to save our Union from dismember- 
ment and death. The country is usually poor, 
having been worn out by poor cultivation and 
slave labor, though occasionally a fine mansion 
and plantation appear. Richmond is situated 
on the James River, and has a population of 
nearly 100,000. To us it did not seem a very 
enterprising city, though considerable manu- 
facturing seemed to be carried on. When we 
crossed the river, it was rather grand, as it was 
very high from recent heavy rains. I was told 
that there were some fine farming lands up the 
river a few miles. If so, I tliink it must be an 
exception to the general rule. 

We passed on through light timbered land 
dotted with negro huts, and crossed into North 


Carolina and South Carolina by waj of Wil- 
mington and Charleston. The former has a 
population of about 21,000; the latter some 
60,000; both are rather dull towns. These 
States, especially near the coast, are of a sandy 
soil, or swampy, with considerable pine. The 
negroes occupy largely, many of them being 
engaged in the manufacturing of tar, resin, and 
turpentine, the manufacturing establishments 
being of the modest kind. This business is 
said to be very hard on the timber, the tapping 
killing the trees in a few years. Northern 
men have come to this pine country and are 
making the lumber business a success, and 
some of them have become quite wealthy, and 
prove a great blessing to the poor people, as 
they find employment for them. The method 
of farming is rather novel to the Northerner; 
one sees colored men and women, also poor 
whites, plowing with a cow, steer, or poor mule 
harnessed to a wooden plow running through 
the sand. To us it did not look as if anything 
could grow, but it was said that melons, es- 
pecially, flourished finely in this sand. Their 
market is a journeying one, and includes a har- 
nessed steer, cow, or mule, very lean, hitched 
to a two-wheeled cart. The dwelling places 
are quite novel; some of them are constructed 


with logs or poles, others of crotched timber 
with poles overhead covered with bark of trees, 
slabs, or brush, open all round, often situated 
on a small island in the swamps, or near the 
borders of the swamp. The people seem happv, 
and as we passed along in the early morn we 
often saw the men sitting in front with a flock 
of children, while the women were busy ap- 
parently preparing their morning meal. 

As we pass into Georgia there was, to a cer- 
tain extent, a sameness; pine timber and saw- 
mills were common. The scenery changes 
somewhat as we near Savannah. This city 
manifests considerable enterprise, and has a 
population of nearly 50,000. The country 
possesses plenty of sand, resembling the soil 
along the Jersey shore. From Savannah we 
went to Jacksonville, Fla., of which we may 
have more to say in another chapter. 



From Savannah to Jacksonville we found it 
rather dull; but we found some old slavehold- 
ers and a sheriff of Georgia County on board, 
who were quite sociable. The late war was 
talked over, and its results. All agreed that 
good to the whole country had come of it. 
Said one of the old slaveholders: " It was the 
best thing that could have happened to our 
young men of the South, as they were coming 
up in idleness, with no idea of ever doing any- 
thing for themselves; they made no calcula- 
tion of earning their own living. Now they 
are compelled to do something or starve, as 
they can not now look for a living from slave 
labor." The sheriff said, " The greatest curse 
to the country now is the politicians, as they 
corrupt the common people both black and 
white." The ladies chatter about the beautiful 
lilies and other flowers in and along the 
swamps, until we reach Jacksonville. 

Jacksonville is a sort of central place for 
Northern people to visit, especially in the 
winter and spring seasons. The town has not 



entirely recovered the setback from the late 
fevers. Many people shy around the place, 
but we had no cause to shun the old town. 
We stopped at the Delavan House, off and on, 
for about one week. This town reports 20,- 
000 population, which are largely of the col- 
ored race, and of rather intelligent people. 
We crossed the St. Johns and visited the 
Mitchell garden and orange grove, and others 
along the beautiful banks, and called on a 
friend that once lived in Plaiiifield. The 
Mitchell grove and garden are among the finest 
along the St. Johns. We find ripe fruit yet on 
the trees, while the new fruit has set thickly. 

By railroad we go southerly to St. Augustine. 
This is one of the oldest towns of the State, 
beautifully situated on the coast. The old 
French or Hessian forts still remain standing, 
and there, with other buildings, represent the 
town to be nearly three hundred years old. 
The place was once walled, but the walls have 
been mostly removed, and the material has 
been used for other purposes. The walls of 
the east gate yet stand as a landmark. The 
streets of the old part of the town are very nar- 
row, some only seven to fourteen feet wide. 
The place is distinctly marked where the Indi- 
ans, Hessians, and soldiers of the early wars 


were buried. This town is destined to be in 
ages to come, one of the most interesting towns 
and resorts of the South. One northern man has 
already invested some $4,000,000 here, and 
intends to spend some $2,000,000 more to 
make the town attractive. He has already 
built three hotels, one of which is called the 
''Ponce de Leon." It was closed for the sea- 
son at this time, but we were permitted to enter 
its courts and the dining-room, and lower floor. 
Its magnitude and beauty we shall not attempt 
to describe. We have visited the Palace hotel 
of San Francisco, the best hotels in Chicago, 
New York, and other cities of the United 
States, and have not seen its equal. St. Augus- 
tine reports at present but about three thousand 
inhabitants, but is probably filling up faster 
than any other town in the State. 

We pass on southerly to Halifax Kiver and 
on to a town called Daytona. The country is 
flat and swampy, and much of the way is cov- 
ered with tall, slim, sap pine, with a low pal- 
metto called the cabbage palmetto, and the 
magnolia. But little grass grows through this 
region. Now and then we see small herds of 
cattle, very scrawny looking. The native cows 
are about as large as a fair-sized one-year-old 
calf in the North, and give from one to twa 


quarts of milk per day. As we near the Hali- 
fax River the timber changes largely to tall 
palmetto and live oak, the oak being spread out 
with broad and huge limbs beautifully draped 
with long, swinging moss in clusters from ten 
to twenty feet long. This moss is gathered in 
many places and manipulated until the outside 
ceases to cling to the inside, which resembles 
horse-hair, and which is used for upholstering. 
The palmetto grows tall and straight, from ten 
to fifty feet high without a limb, with broad 
leaves flowing from the top somewhat in the 
shape of an umbrella. Its growth is different 
from that of any other tree; it grows from the 
inside, or heart, instead of next to the bark like 
other trees. It drinks in its life largely from 
the atmosphere, instead of the earth. The body 
is so full of fiber that it can not be split, neither 
can it be utilized for anything save to be driven 
into the ground for piles. One may trim the 
outside or girdle the bark without affecting the 
growth, so long as he does not interfere with 
the heart. The moss spoken of seems to live 
on the atmosphere, as it has no roots. It 
merely wraps itself around the trees or what- 
ever it touches. Sometimes the wind breaks it 
loose, and it lodges on the orange trees, or other 
fruit trees, and it is claimed that if it is left 


there it saps the atmosphere and hinders the 
growth of the tree and fruit. 

The town of Dayton a fronts on the Halifax 
River. The river empties into the ocean sev- 
eral miles to the north, and it is full of fish, of 
various kinds, and the town is well supplied 
with a great variety caught with nets. The fish 
are sold at five cents a pound. The town is 
beautifully laid out in native groves, with orange 
groves intermixed, which make the drives pleas- 
ant and beautiful. A descendant of John Smith, 
who owns some fine orange groves, oft'ered his 
services to take us on a drive, one day, and we 
were taken to the finest groves miles away. In 
this region we saw some of the finest groves in 
the State, especially those in what is called the 
hummock lands. The hummock lands are the 
lower lands or hollows between the sand ridges, 
the ridges not being so fertile. The oranges and 
other native fruits of Florida require much care, 
cultivation, and feeding in order to be a success. 
Neglect will quickly show itself by the leaves' 
turning yellow, and by poor fruitage. I should 
judge that not over one seventh part of Florida 
can be made to pay for cultivation. Indeed, 
the State is probably as poor a State as any in 
the United States; yet its climate is balmy, and 
it is a pleasant resort for Northern people to 


spend the winters and their money, without 
which the people of the State would have to 
emigrate or starve. 

We return to Jacksonville, and the next morn- 
ing we leave on our journey by way of Talla- 
hassee, Pensacola, and Mobile. The route is 
rather a pleasant one. We pass through the 
sand hills amid the multitude of little cottages 
where the subjects of the plague of yellow fever 
were cared for. The country is strewn with 
sandhills, swamps, and some plantations well 
cultivated, that seemed quite productive. Tal- 
lahassee is a fine town set on a hill, and sur 
rounded with trees, shrubs, and flowers, with a 
population of nearly 4,000, and is the capital of 
the State. Pensacola is a larger town, and has 
a population of some 12,000. The country has 
a sort of sameness through Florida. Native 
trees, shrubs, and flowers attract the eye, and the 
colored people in their rude huts and with their 
methods of living, make the journey one of 

As we enter Alabama night overtakes us, and 
we lose much of the sight-seeing as we enter 
Mobile. This city is quite large for a Southern 
coast city, and has a population of nearly 50,000. 
It is rather a beautiful city. Morning finds us 
nearly across the southern part of Mississippi, 


and we enter Louisiana. We are crossing the 
lowlands as we near New Orleans. We enter 
the room for a chat with the conductor, who puts 
us on our watch for alligators as we pass bayous 
and canals along the road and the marshes. 
We did not have to wait long before seeing them 
by the dozen and score, floundering about in 
mud and water. Eight o'clock brings us into 
New Orleans, where we put up at the St. Charles 
Hotel for rest. 



We had formed rather an unfavorable opinion 
of this city; but people sometimes change their 
minds by visiting a country or city. We hire 
a polite coachman, and tell him to take us 
through the best sight-seeing part of the town, 
and especially to their burying grounds, the 
levees, and the Horticultural Gardens. His 
first stop is before the mansion that General 
B. F. Butler confiscated for his headquarters 
while in command at New Orleans during the 
Civil war. Our guide gave us full details of 
the General, and said that the people thought him 
a hard old tyrant at the time, but now as they 
look back, they decide that he was the instru- 
ment of greater reforms to the city, in morals 
and sanitary measures, than any man who has 
entered it before or since. Tlie monument of 
General Lee is conspicuously situated at the head 
of the most beautiful streets and drives. To the 
lovers of nature and art the Horticultural Build- 
ing is one of decided interest. The old French 
part of the town, its streets and merchants, seem 
somewhat odd and ancient; but the old city is 


becoming AmericaDized; things have wonder- 
fully changed since the war. Some of the 
streets are broad, with horse railroads in the 
center, with drives on each side, and a row of 
trees with lawn between the drives. The lawns 
are covered with most beautiful white clover, 
which seems natural to the soil about the city 
and surrounding country. The city proper lies 
in a horseshoe shape made by a circle of the 
river, and from sailing crafts one may look 
down through the streets of the city. The 
drainage or outlet of the water in the city is 
quite convenient to the Gulf Stream, so that 
stagnant waters pass out more readily than one 
would suppose. The water lies near the sur- 
face of the ground all over the city, con- 
sequently the people can have no wells or 
cellars. The city depends wholly on cistern 
water for family use, nearly every house having 
a cistern above ground, reaching nearly to the 
roof. The dead are buried above ground in 
graves arranged one above the other in stone 
or brick cemented walls, the mouth of each 
vault being cemented to air tightness. The 
St. Charles Hotel is conducted by gentlemen. 
Guests are treated with politeness, and are well 
fed at reasonable prices. 

It is now Friday, and we take a short trip up 


the Illinois Central Railroad to a settlement 
among the pines, called Hammond, near the 
northern border of the State, where some 
Northern and Eastern people of our acquaint- 
ance have settled on account of the ''healthful- 
ness of the| climate,*' they say. The route is 
level, and for a time the crops and herds of 
stock look fine. White and red clover grow 
most luxuriantly, but we soon run into swamps 
and lakes, while now and then a dry spot ap- 
pears. On these more eligible sites negro huts 
of the rudest kind are seen. The negroes settle 
here because the land is cheap, and by laboring 
on the road, or fishing, they eke out a scanty 
livelihood. Alligators are a common sight in 
this region. We pass on up to the pine lands, 
where Northern people have started a settle- 
ment, and here are several families of my 
acquaintance. Quite a hotel for winter resort 
has been built here, but was closed so far as 
feeding the public was concerned. It would 
only rent rooms for long or short terms; but 
that did not suit our habits of life, as we had 
been accustomed to eating as well as sleeping. 
However, we soon found reception in a private 
family, and spent a few days of rest quite com- 
fortably. The people claimed to have come 
here largely for health. This they may possibly 


obtain, but I fear they will not gain much else. 
From appearances I should judge that this sec- 
tion was once a large swamp, and had been 
cleared up for occupation by the French or 
Hessians two or three hundred years ago, but 
had been deserted and left to grow up to pine 
again. It is very Hat, and heavy rains are apt 
to flood the lands, consequently they can have 
DO cellars. They are commencing to cultivate 
fruit, especially strawberries, with apparent suc- 
cess, and find a ready market by shipping to 
New Orleans or to Chicago. 

We witnessed a scene of rather a novel char- 
acter near the hotel. The owner had builded 
an iron fence, making a yard or pen around a 
large shade tree. In this inclosure a black 
bear and an alligator lived together in har- 
mony, kept for a show and a curiosity. A 
large pen of alligators are kept in New Orleans 
on one of the main streets, and men from 
abroad take delight in visiting them. 

Figs grow wild in the woodland in this 
section of country, and the people take up the 
fig trees, or bushes, and set them in yards and 
gardens, and cultivate them with success. This 
town is located on the New Orleans & Chicago 
Kailroad some fifty miles from New Orleans. 
The people are cultivating sweet potatoes here, 


and I saw Irish potatoes, but they looked rather 
sickly. The people seemed happy here, and 
we attended church with them on Sabbath day, 
and they seemed as devoted as most of the 
Northern churches, and brotherly love seemed 
to prevail. 

But we return to New Orleans. The colored 
men seemed rather lazy in this country, and 
I judge that they had rather fish and hunt while 
the women do the work. The average popula- 
tion to each shanty— I judge from outside appear- 
ances — may be from eight to fifteen. I think 
it better for my health to settle where wheat, 
corn, and other grains would grow, than to 
depend upon a few native fruits for a living, 
and for health. We bid adieu to our friends, 
and return to New Orleans, and find our way 
to our hotel, where we rest after our journey. 
It seems strange that people should build a city 
on such low grounds. Eeally, the surface of 
the land is lower than the natural river flow of 
the Mississippi River, so that they are compelled 
to fortify by a heavy embankment for thirty or 
forty miles up the river to protect the city from 
an overflow in times of flood. Morning comes 
and we are rested, and we are off for El Paso, 



It is said that El Paso is just half-waj between 
New Orleans and San Francisco, about 1,200 
miles. But we are off. The sun shines bril- 
liantly, and we cross the widespread Missis- 
sippi Kiver, and are on the beautiful plains and 
plantations of Louisiana. The country is level, 
the soil tolerably rich, and under good cultiva- 
tion, as far as the eye can see. The cultivation 
of corn, cane, and the fruitage of the land is 
being conducted by blacks and whites inter- 
mixed, as well as by horses, mules, and ox 

We cross the Sabine River into the State of 
Texas. Texas is a large State, nearly one thou- 
sand miles long; it has, indeed, been said that 
if it were divided up into half-acre lots, and all 
the people of the globe were divided up into 
families of five, each family could be supplied 
with a half-acre lot by Texas alone. We find 
ourselves now in one of the richest sections in 
our country. We pass Houston, rather an old 
town of some 17,000 inhabitants. Our route 
takes us south of Austin, the State capital, to 
21 321 


San Antonio. Austin is said to be a most 
beautiful city of 25,000 inhabitants. Our route 
passes through a wonderfully rich country; level, 
with a soil black and equal to any we have ever 
seen in our country. It is now the 14th of May, 
and we see corn to the top of the horses' backs 
as they are working in it, with sugar cane and 
other tropical crops in proportion. San Antonio 
is a large government post, and is an interesting 
town of over 30,000 inhabitants. 

As we continue our journey, the country 
changes, and we tind our route brings us through 
the great cattle ranches of Texas. The lands 
are level, with small lakes and swamps inter- 
spersed with several varieties of timber, with 
grasses quite abundant, with large heads of the 
large-leaved cactus of different types or varieties, 
sometimes in form of small trees or shrubs, and 
again in the shape of eggs. The varieties make 
them a peculiarly interesting sight. These 
cattle ranches are usually fenced with wire 
fences in from 1 to 10,000 acre lots, and the 
cattle are numbered by tens of thousands. The 
Texas cattle proper have very long and broad 
horns, measuring two or more feet long, and I 
think some steers' horns might measure five to 
six feet from tip to tip, and cows' in proportion. 

We pass Spofford Junction, south of Eagle 


Pass, on the road to Old Mexico City and as we 
near the Rio Grande River, the country becomes 
rough and more barren and mountainous, and 
we enter the canons and deep gorges, following 
the river for several miles, the rocks and moun- 
tains on either side being quite picturesque. As 
we were passing amid the bluffs, we observed 
sentinels standing on these points. I could not 
understand why these men were thus standing 
with guns, as there were no wars being carried 
on in these parts. But soon we discovered men 
in chain gangs, or dragging a large ball, at 
work, and were told that they were State crimi- 
nals hired by the State to do work on the roads, 
and these sentinels had to watch them, and 
shoot them down if they attempted to escape. 
Across the Rio Recos River, after which the 
river and line of Old Mexico bears south from 
our route for one hundred miles or more, the 
country is rather rough, rocky, barren, and 
thinly settled; cowboys and cattle ranches are 
to be seen only where water is to be found; but 
as we near El Paso, the river makes up to onr 
route, and along the valley we find plenty of 
adobe houses, with a variety of nationalities 
intermixed, and the lands more productive and 
better cultivated. 



El Paso is situated on the Texas side of 
the Rio Grande River, bordering on Old Mex- 
ico. Its population is a little over 1,000 — 
rather a small town, yet a noted point on our 
route. Its water supply for all purposes is 
from the river. This river is so dirty at this 
point that one may be pardoned for saying 
that it almost dams itself in moving. The 
water is pumped up into a reservoir on a hill 
back of the town, and there left to settle. It 
is then run into another, and filtered down into 
the town for us to drink. When it reaches the 
table, ice cold, it looks as clear as crystal; but 
when I heard that the carcasses of thirteen 
dead infants had been found in cleaning the 
last reservoir, I concluded that I would prefer 
the driven-well water of Plainfield. 

I don't think that the morals of the people of 
El Paso are much ahead of our Eastern cities, 
and we think some of them are not fit to bring 
up children in. They are accustomed to attend 
bull fights on Sundays instead of going to 
watering places in the mountains, or along the 


coast, as is the fashion in the East. It is said 
that one man owns one half of the town, and is 
rich. He has fitted up grounds for bull-fights 
for the recreation of the general public. The 
fights are not confined to bulls; many other 
animals meet in the arena — sometimes a bull 
and a stallion, a jack and a stallion, a man and 
a bull, or several men and a woman and a 
bull. The bull usually gets worsted by men, 
as he always closes his eyes when he makes a 
charge, thus giving the person a chance to 
dodge, and while the bull passes, the man 
strikes with his weapon. Men fighting bulls 
are bound by as strict rules as if fighting as 
pugilists in a ring. This proprietor takes great 
pleasure in arranging fights, and it was said 
that he was making ready to soon have a fight 
between two of the largest and most venomous 
snakes that can be found in the country. Some 
people attend church Sunday morning and the 
bull fight in the afternoon. 

We made a trip over the river to the town 
called Paso Del Norte, in Old Mexico. This is a 
town whose buildings are of mud, or adobe, one 
story high; the walls, roof, and floors are all of 
the same material, brick made without straw, 
and baked in the sun. The brick are, I judge, 
about twelve inches by twenty-four, and from 


six to eight inches thick — possibly much like 
the brick that the Egyptians compelled the 
Israelites to make. These Mexicans are a dirty 
looking people; some not half clad, and many 
of the children in a garb resembling an under- 
shirt. They appear about as heathenish as the 
Indians in our various Territories. Go back 
into the country and some of the children are 
about as naked as when they came into the 
world. The ladies think we had better take 
the next train back, and we do so, excusing 
ourselves from Old Mexico, and return to our 
hotel to make ready for our journeying. The 
dwelling places are very different, as every 
individual is his own architect, and some of the 
houses are of the rudest manufacture. Some 
drive rows of stakes the size they want their 
edifice, then weave in brush up to the eaves, 
then set posts and put long poles across and 
cover with brush and a thick covering of mud. 
Others dig holes in the ground, cover with 
poles, brush, and dirt. But I will not give 
details. If people wish to learn how other 
people live in this world, they must go around 
among them. We do not decide to settle in 
El Paso, in Texas, or over in Old Mexico, 
so we decide to leave for Los Angeles, Cal. 



We cross into New Mexico, passing Deming, 
in the southern part of the State, and Lords- 
burg, and soon cross the line into Arizona. 
Thence we go on to Benson, and across the 
State, passing over the Colorado River into 
California. The route is very mountainous and 
barren. In some places the valleys are broad, 
and the distant rocky cliffs in beautiful shapes 
appear, representing different faces. Some are 
pyramidlike, some like castles and old forts; 
all change in feature as we continually shift 
our position and rush along up the grade. But 
little water is to be found for long distances. 
Stations have to be supplied by water trains. 
The country is barren and poor, though we 
often saw flocks of antelopes, with ten or a 
dozen in each squad, with now and then a jack 
rabbit and coyote or prairie wolf. It is said 
that there are rich mines along this line, but 
that because of lack of water they can not be 

In passing along this dull and dreary route, 



the snow-capped mountains appearing in the 
distance are the only thing to break the mon- 
otony. The wild cactus tree and other plants 
appear amid the rocks of the desert; they seem 
to have a liking for life in places where nothing 
else can subsist. As we near the Maricopa 
the mountains narrow and converge together, 
and at one time it was said that we were some 
6,000 feet above the level of the sea. Even at 
this great height we find an artesian well that 
supplies the garden and the station; and the 
native plants, whose special feature is a great 
variety of cactus, which were examined with 
closest curiosity by passengers, as the train 
made quite a long stop at this station. 

But 'all aboard'' is the order, and our train 
is on the move, and now comes down grade for 
many miles, and very steep at that. The val- 
ley is narrow, the mountains are high, rocky, 
and abrupt. The valley is barren, save for the 
cactus trees — we might say ''stubs,'' as many 
of them are tall, without a single branch. 
The valley looks as if the flood had just left the 
earth, as stones, rocks, and gravel seem to be 
strewn in every direction. The grade is so 
steep that they can not get back again. Some- 
times it looks as if we were going back up the 
valley, and as we cross from side to side of 


the mountains, we often see the railroad track 
down the valley, and think that it is another 
railroad that has found its way into this wilder- 
ness, but in time we find an engine crawling 
around a short curve on the same rails. Not a 
drop of water is to be seen for many miles, 
neither cow-boys nor cattle, nor Indians, nor 
white men, save those connected with the rail- 

We are nearing California's southern bor- 
ders. Don't get the idea that all California is a 
paradise, or a garden of flowers ; for if you do 
you will be likely to change your mind on 
entering it by the southern route. The State, 
you must remember, is very long, and its 
domains are extensive. You cross the Colorado 
river to get into it. After crossing the river }'0U 
do not lose sight of desolation for forty to fifty 
miles. The country may be rich with mines, 
but there is a great lack of cultivation. As we 
near Los Angeles, however, the daylight of life 
appears, and we clean up our lunch basket for 
a stop in the beautiful town, where we are to 
rest for a few days, and see the town and its 
beautiful surroundings. 



Los Angeles is situated in southern Califor- 
nia, four hundred and ninety-six miles south of 
San Francisco, and fourteen miles from the 
Pacific Ocean, on the Pacific route. It is in a 
broad valley. The old town proper was built 
on the south side of a large and broken bluff, 
entirely separate from the surrounding moun- 
tains ; but the new town has spread out on the 
broad plains, while streets and drives have been 
cut through and over the bluffs, and have been 
lined with fine residences, lawns, and fiower- 
gardens, with groves of bananas, oranges, and 
other tropical fruits. Los Angeles is no mean 
city, although some think that it has been 
overextoUed. It has fine stores and public 
buildings; the people are considerably mixed as 
to nationalities, yet civil and well-behaved. The 
town has had its boom, like many other cities, 
and extravagances in the way of speculations 
have used up many men who lacked friends 
and good backing to tide them over. Even 
these, however, are rallying above embarrass 
ment, and the town is hoping for another boom 


and a rush of business again. It has a popula- 
tion of about 50,000, and can not be otherwise 
than an interesting place. 

Men of our present and fast age are quite 
anxious to become suddenly rich, and conse- 
quently often become suddenly poor, in West- 
ern cities as well as Eastern. One man's mis- 
fortunes often make opportunity for the next 
man; for when one man falls and is in the 
hands of the sheriff, the next man takes the 
property at half its original cost, and goes to 
prosperity, and the town is built up accordingly. 
So it has been in Los Angeles. As our custom 
is, we hire a coachman to take us by the hour. 
He first drives out of town among the orange 
groves, and fruits, and flower gardens owned by 
rich and retired men. Many of the late fruit 
trees, even for shade along the walks and streets, 
are as common as apple trees in the East. 
We are now boiled along the avenues of the 
city, and as we near the heights, we can take 
in a most beautiful survey of the country. Our 
driver takes us upon the higliest point of the 
bluff, and points westward, telling us that open- 
ing in the bluff is fourteen miles away, and that 
you can see the ocean just beyond. Here is 
where the men of our navy landed and marched 
with the American flag to demand a surrender 


of the Pacific Slope to the American govern- 
ment. Off yonder, in the gap of the mountain, 
is where Fremont came through in the dead of 
the night, stealing his way around back of the 
bluff above the town, and right here is where 
he planted his brass cannon. In the early 
dawn, as the old Spanish town arose, there was 
the American flag floating, and the brass cannon 
shining in the morning sun, demanding surren- 
der, and there was no alternativ^e. The guns 
were in a masterful position. We met one man 
on our route who had been in our navy at the 
time of all the skirmishes along the coast, and 
he said that if ever men fared hard, they did. 
There were often hand-to-hand fights with great 
odds against them. At one time they charged 
and routed the enemy by fording a stream, waist 

The older inhabitants of our country well re- 
member the hardships of Fremont's men in 
crossing the Rockies, and the struggles to gain 
the gold regions of California and the Pacific 
Slope; and the younger blood of America ought 
to bear in mind that the privileges they now 
enjoy in our own large donjains cost their fore- 
fathers much hardship. The patriots were 
compelled to live on mule meat and carcasses of 
dead animals; their feet were often blistered 


from want of shoes to protect them from jagged 
rocks and cruel crags and the sands of the 
desert. This is sacred ground, here in Los 
Angeles. General Fremont is always greeted 
with greatest reverence and ovations whenever 
he enters this city. We descend to the plains 
and take in the beauties of the stores and public 
buildings, and return to our hotel for prepara- 
tions for our journey away from Los Angeles, 
which makes a good show on the Californian 
slope. We called on a young doctor settled 
here that journeyed with us on our first trip 
from Denver to California, that had at that 
time been East and married a wife, and was 
taking her home with him. 

Now we are off again; the cars are crowded, 
but succeeded in getting a position, as usual, in 
a palace car, and we are on our way through 
the broad and beautiful valley, perhaps the 
cream of California. Night, however, over- 
takes us, and to our berths we are reconciled 
for a time. We are soon awake again and demand 
a blanket or two, for the night is cool, and one 
rests and sleeps refreshingly under thick cover- 
ing. Indeed, so chilly is the night air that 
sealskin cloaks do not come amiss for a time in 
the early morning. At six o'clock we are up, and 
we promptly begin our ablutions to avoid the 


later risers. All equipped for the day, we 
dropped into the waiting room while our berth 
is being made up. The train halts at a station, 
and in steps a young man who proves to be Mr. 
Potter, a cousin. The meeting, of course, was 
pleasant and unexpected. He is in business in 
San Francisco, on a business trip, and on his 
way home. As we chat gayly, our train is 
rushing on through the beautiful valley of 
orchards, vineyards, and golden fields of grain 
ripening for the harvest. Already theniachines 
are clicking in the wheat fields and hay fields. 
We are nearing the beautiful city of Oakland, 
and the large bay that divides San Francisco 
from that beautiful city. We are soon aboard 
the large ferry boat, and in half an hour are 
landed in the Pacific city, San Francisco. We 
board the cable cars up to the Palace Hotel, 
and cross over a block to the Occidental, which 
was our home during the greater part of our 
stay in this city on our former tour three years 



The proprietor of the Occidental Hotel at San 
Francisco knows just how to treat his guests in 
order to hold the traveling public and the 
Eastern tourist. We took in the city mainly 
three years ago, when we visited the Pacific 
Slope by a route different from the one jour- 
neyed this time, and returned by the Northern 

The eye is never satisfied of seeing, so we 
take the cable cars up over the bluff' to the park 
some four miles, thence by dummy cars four 
miles farther to the Ocean Cliff House, high 
up above the sea level, while other hotels are 
scattered along the beach near the edge of the 
beautiful Pacific Ocean, and we find ourselves 
on the extreme western coast, again watching 
the seals at their home upon the massive rocks 
just beyond the shore. It is no new thing to 
us, yet it is interesting to see them by hundreds 
bark and fight and tumble off the high rocks 
into the deep water of the ocean. These seals 
are protected from harm by the United States 



government, the same as are animals in the 
great Yellowstone Park. 

We make our way up to the beautiful gar- 
dens on the cliffs, belonging to the Cliff House; 
but we are getting tired, and take another look 
back over old ocean, then board the cars and 
round by the Golden Gate, the Soldiers' 
Home and gardens, — nine miles for ten 
cents, — to our hotel. We go to our room, 
and what do we find ? A large dish of fruits, 
including the finest oranges and cherries, just 
the thing to quench our thirst and refresh our 
weary bodies. 

The next day we cross over the bay to Oak- 
land and stop overnight with the family of our 
cousin. Oakland is the city of flowers, situated 
on a sort of plain as level as our city of 
Plainfield, and has a population of 35,000 or 
40,000. It is to San Francisco a sort of sleep- 
ing place. Business men have their offices in 
San Francisco, and reside over the bay two or 
three miles away, crossing by ferry boats 
morning and night, and thus rest in happy 
homes, out of the noise and bustle of a busi- 
ness city. We return to our room, and now 
comes a basket of beautiful flowers, including 
roses, of which my better half is particularly 
fond. The card reads, "Compliments of the 


proprietor.'" We make a trip to the sand hills, 
or Chinatown; view over again the Chinese 
theaters, banks, and other public buildings, 
their joss houses, or places of worship, and 
purchased a few trinkets for the children. 
Not finding much change in this part of the 
city, we make our way back home again and 
for other sight-seeing. 

San Francisco is on the bay, and is nearly 
surrounded by water, a neck of land being all 
that connects the south end of the island with 
the mainland. The bay is large, lying on 
the east, and its waters extending around the 
north, through Golden Gate, out to the ocean 
near rocky cliffs and the resort for visitors to 
the ocean. In or near the middle of the bay 
is quite a large island, and it is contemplated 
to build a bridge across from city to city, 
passing over this island, which would make a 
beautiful construction, and lessen the crowd 
that now crosses the ferries. There are but two 
lines of ferries, and they have the largest ferry 
boats I have ever seen in any country. They 
ply every half hour, and are often crowded, 
from the fact that all railroad passengers that 
enter the city must enter by the ferries. 

The traveler that has an eye to the curiosities 
of nature and art will find much to interest him 


in visiting these cities. As we visited these 
cities three years ago, a somewhat lengthy ac- 
count of which appears elsewhere, we will 
omit further notes. 

The traveler usually speaks most of the best 
side of the country in writing up notes of 
travels. I would not pretend that all is lovely 
and beautiful in California, nor that riches 
drop into one's pocket here without exertion. 
The man that comes to California expecting to 
get rich by doing nothing will probably be dis- 
appointed. It was the divine edict that man 
should live by the sweat of his brow, and the 
man that won't work should not eat. It wants 
men of push to succeed in the West. The 
Chinaman will outstrip the lazy man in money- 
making in the West, as well as in the East, as 
he lives cheaply, scarcely ever drinks strong 
drink, and saves his earnings with a view to 
sending it back to China to his family. But 
many of them have become rich and are worth 
their hundreds of thousands of dollars, and are 
as correct in business habits as our American 
citizens, or other foreigners that come to our 
shores, and it seems a shame that they are 
treated as they are, while the rabble of all other 
nations is allowed to come to our shores and 
become voters before they learn their A B C's. 


To be sure, the Chinaman smokes his pipe, but 
he is somewhat sensible about it, while other 
foreigners largely drink strong drink, get up 
fights, labor strikes, and cause more delay and 
trouble than all others combined. 

We must gather up and be working eastward 
before the weather gets to much heated, so we 
are off. 

We cross the ferry to Oakland, and thence 
start on our back track toward Los Angeles, 
about four hundred miles to Mojave. This 
gives us a beautiful view of the country that 
we passed in the night time coming from Los 
Angeles. The whole valley seems productive; 
and while fruit, wheat, and oats, and other 
small grains grow finely, many of the farmers 
are engaged in raising hay for baling. There 
is a large demand for hay on the various rail- 
roads where no hay will grow, which makes 
the hay crop more profitable than other crops 
at present prices. 

There is much complaint among farmers 
about low prices all through the West, and the 
farm that is mortgaged under these circum- 
stances is hard to free from incumbrance. Our 
train is going with a rush, and night overtakes 
us before we reach Mojave and the junction, 
when we retire. We arise in the morning and 


look out and see that we are in a poor, rocky, 
desert-looking country; and we inquire where we 
are. We are told that we are yet in California, 
and that we are in a rich country of mines; 
but they can not be worked successfully for 
want of water. Well, there is no use of claim- 
ing that the State is all paradise, so will close 
this chapter right here in this desolate point 
while we attend to our breakfasting. 



When we left Mojave, on the Central 
Pacific we struck a new route, which takes us 
perhaps one hundred and fifty miles into Cali- 
fornia, crossing Arizona north of its center 
and on to Albuquerque, N. M., to the Santa Fe 

Our last chapter closed, leaving us in the 
desert part of California, eating our breakfast. 
We had a good one, though not a particle of 
it was grown in that country. Every article of 
food eaten there by men or beasts has to be 
transported by railroad. But our engine never 
tires, and rushes on, drawing human freight, 
and at the same time its own food and water. 
We are now running down grade into the 
midst of rocks and mountains as dry as a 
powder-house, but as we continue our descent 
in the valley we discover signs of vegetation. 
It seems almost like being penned in low down 
in the mountains. It is very hot. We take a 
peep at the thermometer that hangs over our 
heads. Whew ! The mercury stands at 106 
degrees, this being much the hottest we have 



found on our journey. Then we strike the Colo- 
rado River and cross it at what is called the 
Needles, and here we find a few families of 
Mormons, and some vegetation. Now our 
route is up grade through poor country, but 
our engine puffs away, and it seems that every 
puff makes the weather seem hotter. Night 
overtakes us at last, and the porters make up 
our berths with small screens in the windows, 
and we retire in a great deal of a swelter. 
Ere long, however, as we ascend higher, we 
begin to feel around for the blanket, and 
before break of day we close our screen and 
double our blanket. At six o'clock we arise. It 
seems very cool, and we look at the thermom- 
eter; the mercury stands at 50°, a fall of 53° in 
about fourteen hours, and our overgarments 
came into play. 

We are 6,000 feet high up in the mountains 
of Arizona. This State is a poor one for culti- 
vation, but it is said to consist of many rich 
mines. In some sections cattle ranches appear, 
and with the Indians we often see the cowboy 
around the railroad stations; and right here let 
me say that a most exciting scene occurred. 
A wild horse, saddled and bridled, had in some 
way broken loose from his rider, and is seen 
coming down the mountain as if kicked by 


seventeen mules and donkies, and two cowboys 
on horseback, with lassoes in hand, with light- 
ning speed are endeavoring to capture the run- 
away. Pass after pass is made, but somehow 
they failed to rope him; they strike into the 
valley and the dry dust fills the air. Our train 
rushes on; the race passes a point of brush and 
timber, and the end is not yet, and we know 
not; but every passenger would have been glad 
to have had the train stop long enough to see 
how the affair came out. This was not the 
only race of the kind under an observation. 
They are always wonderfully exciting to our 
human nature. This State is usually thinly 
settled. We pass on and across the Little Colo- 
rado Kiverin the mountains to Mojave Springs, 
and cross the line into New Mexico at Allen- 
town, southeast of Utah, perhaps one hundred 
miles or more. We crossed the southern part, 
or southwest corner of New Mexico and Ari- 
zona on our way west on the Southern Pacific 
route, but now we are passing through the. 
northern part of these States. 

In passing through Texas and New Mexico 
we were reminded of the war between our 
country and Mexico, when General Taylor was 
the head of the forces, and Santa Anna the 
head of the Mexican forces. Santa Anna was 


a courageous fighter, and conducted his battle 
by systematic warfare. He was the best offi- 
cer Mexico could furnish. General Taylor was 
of a different make-up; he was ready to retreat 
or pitch battle at any time in order to take 
advantage of the enemy and save his men, but 
was never ready to surrender. Santa Anna 
once said he whipped Taylor often, but Taylor 
never knew when he was whipped, but seemed 
always on the watch to strike him in the rear 
when he least expected an attack, not so much 
for statesmanship as for war. 

Taylor was elected president, not so much 
for statesmanship as for his bravery and tactics 
in war, but did not live long to occupy the 
chair. There was some intimation that he was 
put out of the way by his enemies. The United 
States forces, as their custom is, won the day, 
and in consequence Texas was ceded to the 
United States. 

But we are now in New Mexico, and we shall 
soon enter the Indian reserves ; and lo, the 
poor Indian! He has been driven from pillar 
to ,post from his good hunting grounds. The 
buffalo and antelope, deer and fishing, have 
been destroyed, and now they are packed 
in the barren mountains and valleys of the 
poorest part of our country to starve and die 


away. As we pass along through the little vil- 
lages of adobe huts, these tents and wigwams 
and dwelling places in the rocks, the women 
and children appear half clad, begging for 
bread, ten cents, or are trying to sell some 
trinkets of their own make to help keep soul 
and body together. The men appear in the 
distance poorly clad, barefooted, bareheaded, 
with long black hair parted in the middle, 
hanging over their shoulders, and many of 
them with painted faces that make them look 
more savage than is their nature. The men 
scarcely ever do. any work, save to hunt and 
fish ; the squaws invariably carry the burdens. 
They look lean and dirty, as well as their cattle, 
broncos, donkeys, and other animals. 

The valleys are usually narrow and rocky. 
Now and then a spot is found, where, by irri- 
gation by some spring or ravine or rivulet, 
they raise a few vegetables, but for one hun- 
dred miles or more there is but little water and 
but little chance for irrigation. But as we pass 
out of the mountains, the country opens out 
into wider valleys, through which passes a 
small stream or river, from which the land is 
irrigated, and they seem to farm it quite sys- 
tematically. They live in adobe houses mostly, 
some of them being mere walls on three sides, 


roofed over with the same material, and on one 
side open like an Eastern cattle shed. 

The country looks much better to live in 
as we near the Rio Grande River and cross the 
junction of the Sante Fe Railroad, and pass up 
the Albuquerque, a little north of the center of 
the State. The town is rather a handsome 
place, and business seems quite lively, but we 
pass on up into the southern part of the Rocky 
Mountains to Los Yegas. Here in the moun- 
tains in open valleys the soil is of a reddish 
color, and is well cultivated wherever a spot is 
found worth attempting, and many of these 
patches were well tilled, being irrigated by 
springs and rivulets coming from the moun- 
tains. Again night overtakes us, and we retire 
to our berths in the midst of the mountains of 
New Mexico. Morning dawns upon us. We 
have had a comfortable and cool rest, and find 
ourselves in Colorado, near the La Junta cross- 
ing the southern corner of the State just in 
sight of Pike's Peak, and not far from the Col- 
orado Springs and Pueblo valley, which was 
passed in our former trip over the Rockies to 
Salt Lake City and on to California. We fol- 
low on the Arkansas River and cross into Kan- 
sas, near Granada, and now we are in " bleed- 
ing" Kansas, ''grasshopper" Kansas, "star- 


vation " Kansas, " border ruffian " Kansas, and 
now "prosperous" Kansas, and "prohibition" 
Kansas; yet we are not discouraged, but follow 
on up the river, the stream being nearly dry, 
caused by canals for irrigation of its beautiful 
prairies spread out miles away, covered with 
wheat, oats, and corn, and cattle by the thou- 
sands, until we reach Dodge City, a place that 
bears the name of having some rather " hard- 
shelled " characters. But we stop off, and put 
up at the Delmonico Hotel for rest and peram- 
bulating southern Kansas, and to look up 
some old friends settled there. 



We arise in the morning, and find we have 
had a shower during the night, the first that 
has happened on our journej since we left 
Washington, D. C, April 29. Dodge City has 
a population of about 4,500, and is situated in 
a large prairie country, with some timber along 
the rivers. 

We are now for a side trip off our regular 
route. We wish to look np our nephew that 
settled in Seward County, the southwest county 
in the State some fifty miles away. We have 
to cross the river and take the Kansas City 
cars on another railroad. We take the omni- 
bus to the depot; but there had been a heavy 
rain that had delayed the train, and we had to 
wait, so were late in getting to a stage station 
thirteen miles from my nephew's. But we 
hired a man to drive us through with a fine 
livery, and we had a nice ride across the 
prairies, and found our friends all well, and 
looking for our arrival. If there is anything 
disagreeable, it is waiting for the cars that 
delay us on our journey. My friend lives in 



a sod house of his own building. You would 
think that would be very unpleasant, but nearly 
all do that in a new-settled prairie country. 
From his home at that time I think as many as 
fifty sod houses could be seen scattered over 
the prairie. They are warm in winter, and cool 
in summer. They are built up with square blocks 
of sod making a wall some eighteen or twenty 
inches thick, and covered with the same mate- 
rial, and lathed and plastered inside, many of 
them, and you would hardly know that you 
were in a sod house when inside. 

This is a beautiful prairie country, but from 
some cause they are not safe for a good crop to 
average over once in three years. That sec- 
tion is liable to hot winds, and when that strikes 
almost any crop when in the blossom, it blasts 
the whole crop. Then they are liable to long 
drought any season. Their failures have driven 
nearly all the settlers from that part of the 
State at a loss of all expenditures, and now my 
friend lives here, and has a cattle ranch of sev- 
eral thousand acres. He has a deep well that 
pumps by a windmill for himself and cattle and 
others for miles around. 

We enjoyed our visit for a few days. There 
was a great boom over this part of Kansas 
a few years before, by entering claims, and 


grabbing for homesteads, not a section was left 
unclaimed for miles around; but now the old 
sod house is left as a remembrance of what has 
been, and now it is a free country to cattle and 
wild beasts. The town and county seat have 
been torn down and drawn away. We slept 
just as soundly in a sod house as we did in the 
Occidental, or Delmonico; but this is real 
frontier life, and is good for one's soul, for in 
this way he learns the difference of country, 
and how people live. 

Our friends seem a little lonesome, as they 
are alone from their relatives; but we must 
leave them. So our friend, his wife, and a 
neighbor that we had become acquainted with, 
formerly from the East, arranged to take us to 
the nearest station ten miles away. It was an 
awful windy day and my wife had about all she 
could do to hold herself and clothing together 
in the open carriage. But we succeeded, and 
got safely through to the station, and found 
that we had two hours to wait for our train to 
take us to Dodge City; so we went to a hotel, 
and I engaged dinner for ourselves and com- 
pany. We took dinner together, and went to 
the depot where we bade each other good-by, 
and we were off for Dodge City, where we put 
up for the night. On the morrow we will be 


off, by the way of Topeka and on to Norton- 
ville, where we stop for a time with our sister 
and brother-in-law Babcock. 

As I have written quite largely on Kansas in 
former chapters, I will omit further on this 
prosperous State. But as I have some securi- 
ties in Nebraska, I leave my wife here and 
make a trip into that State. I go to Atchison, 
thence northward into that State by the way of 
Lincoln, thence to North Loup, up the Loup 
valley toward the county seat and northerly 
toward Omaha, thence back to North Loup. 
Well, I found some of my securities were worth 
about as much as so much clear sky. Really, 
1 found out that a man had better not invest 
much on other people's word; for some people, 
though professed Christians and church mem- 
bers, do not always tell the truth when they 
wish to get money pretty badly. So I left 
North Loup, and took a different route and 
looked up a brother-in-law and family that 
had settled in that State, and had a good 
visit; and then his son, my namesake, Ethan 
L. Wadsworth, drove me four miles to the near- 
est station where I took cars for Atchison, Kan. ; 
thence back to Nortonville for a stop-over and 
rest, and to visit some friends about that part 
of the State. 



We leave Nortonville, go back to Topeka, 
call on a few friends, then take the cars for 
Kansas City, Mo. Here we stop a few days, 
and what a change since my first visit here in 
1844, when there was not much else but tents 
and shanties among the bluffs. But we must 
be oft" toward our Eastern home. 

We take the cars by the Rock Island route, 
and change off and go up to Milton Junction, 
Wis., where a friend meets us and takes us to 
his home at Milton. 

After a few days we proceed to Chicago, and 
make a short stop. What a great city, all built 
up in a man's lifetime. But we pass on into 
Michigan by way of Battle Creek, thence to 
Jackson, where we stop over Sabbath with a 
brother-in-law, and attend meeting with a small 
church of Sabbath keepers. On Sunday a min- 
ister invited me to attend service with him at 
the State prison. The preacher invited me to 
take a seat with him on the rostrum. I must 
confess I felt a little queer to sit there before 


an audience of victims for crime; but two guards 
sit with us, with their guns bj their side, to 
shoot down the victims if they should make any 
move toward an insurrection. But all behaved 
quietly. Some were fine-looking men, and 
seemed to me ought not to be in such a place; 
but unfortunately for them they had yielded to 
bad company, as thousands of others have 
done, and got led into crime before they real- 
ized what bad company led to. But here they 
were, mixed up with the wickedest men of our 
land, to suffer disgrace brought to their parents, 
perhaps, by first disobeying them. I noticed 
some shedding tears, some smiling as if they 
had lost all shame. Young man, take heed, 
lest you fall! 

We leave Jackson by way of Detroit, croSs 
over the river and take cars on the Canadian 
R. R. by way of London to Suspension Bridge; 
cross over, run up to the Falls, and stop over- 
night, and thence by way of Rochester and Au- 
burn to Syracuse and stop over a few days with 
our sister and her husband and son, rest up a 
little, and thence by the West Side Railroad to 
New York, where we stop over until morning. 
We are a little anxious to see home after a jour- 
ney across the continent by two dift'erent routes, 
making about nine thousand miles, without 



accident or sickness to lay us up on the whole 
journey. We find ourselves at our home again, 
having great reason to thank the good Lord for 
his care and protection. 



It has been my custom to visit Washington 
occasionally, and some of our State capitals, to 
learn the character of men, and how they do 
business. We had some very able statesmen 
in my early days. I well remember the days of 
Jackson and the Adamses, Calhoun, Henry Clay, 
Joshua R. Giddings, Z. Taylor, Wm. H. Har- 
rison, Seward, Gerrit Smith, Horace Greeley, 
and lots of other able men, and as smart as 
they were, most of them had their weak points. 
Horace Greeley was not so much of a statesman 
as he was a politician and editor. He was at 
one time considered almost a prophet in politics. 
He was a strong Whig and afterward a Republi- 
can, and in fact he named the Republican party. 
The party principles were gotten up in my town, 
the town of Friendship, Alleghany Co., N. Y. 
A. N. Cole, the editor of the Free Press, of 
that county, formerly a Democrat, but then a 
Free Soiler, called a convention to be held in 
Friendship to consider the question of a new 
party, as both old parties had yielded to the 
slave power for the sake of votes and power; 



that it was time something should be done to 
save our country from the hands of wicked men. 
The convention was made up of the best of citi- 
zens. Not a proslavery man or an intemper- 
ate man was in the convention. A set of 
principles was drawn up and adopted. But 
the convention did not know what to call it. 
It was suggested that the platform of principles 
be copied and sent to Horace Greeley, and tell 
hiin that we had indorsed them as a set of 
principles for a new party, but we did not know 
what to call it. He replied, " Call it Republi- 
can." So it was so called, and has been to this 
day; but oh! how the party has fallen from 
grace, and what a different set of men rule the 
party to-day! 

The Republican party of to-day has as com- 
pletely sold out to the rum or saloon power, as 
did the old Whig and Democratic parties to 
the slave power. This is not only national, but 
our State Legislatures are governed by the 
same influence, and State and nation are in a 
worse condition morally and religiously than 
we were before the Rebellion over the slavery 
question. The fact seems to be now for power 
rather than for principle. I really believe 
from my observation that we never have had 
an administration in power in America that has 


stolen from appropriations more than the pres- 
ent. I have observed from Grant's second 
term down to the present time that from State 
and national governments, and even small 
municipalities, but few appropriations have 
been made for any object but that somebody 
has become a millionaire or very wealthy out of 
it. Politicians seem combined to help each 
other in their steals. 

And I see no prospect of reform from a moral 
point of view from the professed church of 
Christ in our land, for the politics of our land 
seems to hold perfect control over church and 
people, and church politicians are in the church 
for the control and what they can make from 
the church, and in fact there seems to be more 
churchanity than Christianity in our country. 
In my estimation, a church politician is liable to 
draw more men, young and old, astray than 
any other class of men. And so long as the 
church and politics are combined as they are, 
the church will never remove the curse of rum 
from our land any more than did the church 
remove slavery from our land. God allowed 
slavery to exist until the mass of the people, 
regardless of the church, were compelled to 
rise up en masse and put down the slave power 
and the curse in order to save themselves and 


the nation. But at what a cost of lives and 
treasury ! God bears the wickedness of a 
church and people until it becomes unbearable, 
and when that comes, it must go at whatever 
cost. If these offenses are allowed by a church 
or nation, "Woe to that man by whom the 
offense cometh." 



The great and small cities in our land have 
mostly been built up in a man's lifetime of 82 
years. I well remember my first visit to New 
York City when quite young. The retail busi- 
ness was mostly done in the lower end of the 
town, about Fulton street and that vicinity, 
and Park Kow. Castle Garden then stood out 
from shore, and to visit it we had to cross on a 
bridge to get on to it. Merchants from the 
West, so called, came by the packet boats on 
the Erie Canal one or twice a year to purchase 
goods. I remember the first merchant that 
opened a store at Baker's Bridge, so called 
from the fact that a man by the name of Baker 
built the first bridge across the stream with 
poles. The place is now called Alfred Station. 
He started with a stock of $500. His name 
was Samuel Russel, and he came from New 
Haven, Conn. His store was a little larger 
than a fair-sized smoke-house. And I also 
remember the first framed house and barn in 
in the town of Alfred, and the log school-house 
where I commenced my college education. 



They did not teach boys grammar in those 
days, so I never studied grammar a day in my 

What a change in a man's life, in eighty-two 
years. Now fine farms, fine orchards, fine 
houses, fine schools, and a fine university in 
the town. Where deer, bears, and Indians 
then roamed, not one would dare venture now. 
Go to New York on a canal packet ! Whew ! Get 
on the cars at night, and get your breakfast in 
New York in the morning. Now it is Greater 
New York, extended up many miles beyond 
Harlem, and includes Brooklyn, and it is said 
to be the greatest city in America, and some 
say it is the wickedest. We will not decide 
that question; but it is evident that Tammany 
usually rules the city, and also it is evident 
that sin rolls as a sweet morsel under their 
tongues from the saloons and gambling-houses 
to be seen all over her domain. 

As we pass on to the Lakes and to Chicago 
the same push and progress appear. But 
what is the result ? Scarcely a city or town but 
has its curse of rum and the saloon on nearly 
every square to damn men's souls and bodies, 
as well as its church steeples; that send ten 
men to perdition while the church saves one. 
Push on to Chicago, and what do we find. 


Where great Chicago now stands, when I was 
born, only a few French and Indians were 
mixed there in the mud. 

The first time I visited Illinois, in 184^1:, 
there were about 11,000 population, largely liv- 
ing in little houses built on piles driven into 
the ground to keep them above the mud. But 
what now ? The next largest city in our country, 
with churches, colleges, big hotels, and saloons, 
and places of damnation that reach miles on 
the road to condemnation, where hell fire rolls 
under their tongues; and if the forces of New 
York should be joined to Chicago, it is a ques- 
tion whether there is water enough in the lake 
adjoining to quench the fire after getting it 

Go on to the Rocky Mountains, across the 
American desert, to San Francisco, and to the 
Pacific Ocean, and you will find this curse of 
drink supported by our government. Go north 
to our northern borders and the lakes, and you 
will find it; go south to our southern climate 
and the balmy land of flowers, and there the 
curse hangs on American authority. Come 
back to the capital of the nation, and we find 
dens of death on the beautiful avenues ready 
to damn every person from our homes or from 
abroad that shall call at our capital. Go into 


both houses of Congress, and there jou will 
find the rum bars where all kinds of liquors are 
dealt out to our lawmakers as they want. Go to 
the White House, and look upon the table of 
the president, and see the decanters and glasses 
filled to the brim with the drinks of death to 
himself and all his guests, and then do you 
wonder at the wicked laws that are made? Go 
to our soldiers^ homes in our land, and see the 
liquid fire that is sold to them to drink. Then 
go on to our war department, and see the can- 
teens of liquor dealt out; and then after you 
have got around, listen to the voices all over 
our land, " Where is my wandering boy to- 
night?" Why do not my husband and son 
come home to-night ? 


Wife of Orson W. Babcoek. president of national ]>ank 
Mortonville, Kan. 



" Seaech the Scriptures; for in them ye think 
ye have eternal life: and they are they which 
testify of me." John 5:39. Here we have 
a plain command to study God's Word, to 
search it, that we may learn our duty to him 
and to our fellow men. 

The Sabbath-school has been instituted as 
a help in acquiring a knowledge of the Scrip- 
tures, and it has proved a valuable aid. Par- 
ticularly to the young is a well-organized and 
properly conducted Sabbath-school of untold 
value. Its influence in a community is also 
great; how great, we are not able to calculate. 
Since the days w^ien the Sabbath-school was 
first instituted the work has been progressive. 
It has advanced from one degree of excellence 
to another until it has become a power in the 
land. It is but recently that lesson leaves and 
other helps were introduced. Some think we 
should dispense with these. If there are no 
wiser hands than ours, I agree with that class. 
But I think most of us may properly receive 



instruction from those whose time and atten- 
tion are wholly given to the study of the 

From infant classes, I would exclude the 
lesson leaves and substitute other methods of 
instruction. A skillful teacher will know how 
to meet the wants of children. The mind of 
the child is easily molded, hence the necessity 
of exercising great care in the choice of instruc- 
tors. The teacher's influence by what he is is- 
more than by what he says. If he loves and 
honors God, he will inculcate right principles 
and teach by example, which is far better than 
precept. Parents and teachers should co-operate. 
They should have the same end in view, the 
formation of a noble, Christian character. They 
are co-laborers in the great work of training 
the children for usefulness and happiness here 
and hereafter in the world to come, which the 
natural eye hath not seen, but where, by the 
eye of faith, we behold God, our Father, to- 
gether with his holy angels. 

Oh, that the hearts and minds of the children 
might be molded perfectly and beautifully after 
the image of our divine Master! Some of my 
readers have long enjoyed the privileges of the 
Bible school. The question arises, Have we 
appreciated them? We have had ample time 


to search the Scriptures; have we improved it ? 
Have we grown great in goodness, been puri- 
fied and strengthened by laboring for the good 
of others ? 

There is work for the Christian everywhere. 
It begins in our own homes. Indeed, I believe 
here is where our true character is most tested. 
If an individual is not a Christian around his 
own fireside, and in the discharge of home 
duties, he is not one anywhere. There are 
many heroic Christian souls who are scarcely 
known beyond the home circle; souls that toil 
on through trials and sufferings, ever hopeful 
and cheerful. Life has its trials, its disappoint- 
ments, and its sorrows. Dark shadows some- 
times cross our pathway. Cherished schemes 
fail, and the goal is never reached. Friends, 
dear to our hearts, are removed by death's 
relentless hand; others, perchance, prove false. 
Happy are we if, while passing through these 
vicissitudes of life, we have Christ for our 
friend, and can say with the psalmist, " The 
Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he 
leadeth me beside the still waters." 

Life is not all shadow; and it has often been 
said that even the clouds have a silver lining, 
and flowers grow all along our pathway, but 


we do not always stop to gather them. We 
hasten on, seeking some that are better or 
fairer. If we would be happy, we must be the 
arbiters of our own moods, God or nature will 
not help us to cheerfulness unless we help our- 
selves. Happy is the individual who has a life 
within that is independent of the ups and downs 
of fortunes, and who can at all times and under 
all circumstances, say, ''Thy will, O Lord, not 
mine, be done.'* 

The hope of eternal life gives endurance and 
courage to the Christian heart. It sheds a 
brightness over all life's pilgrimage, and leads 
us on to that '' better land,'' our Father's home, 
where the many mansions are. 

Teachers and laborers in the Bible school, 
yours is a noble work. Toil bravely and pa- 
tiently on, remembering that in heaven there 
will be great rejoicing over one sinner that you 
may bring into the fold. And thus may we all 
labor cheerfully and well in whatever sphere 
our duties may be, and when the sands of time 
have run their course, and we approach the 
golden gate, may we not appear empty handed, 
bearing a few precious sheaves to lay at our 
Masters feet. 



This goes back to my Grandfather Lanphear. 
His name was Nathan, and he was born in 
New England. I am not able to give dates. 
He was married two or three times. He had 
three children by his first wife: one son and 
two daughters. His son's name was Ethan; 
he left no children. One daughter married 
Nathan Stillman. He and Ethan moved to 
Brookfield, N. Y., in the early settlement of 
that county. Nathan had three sons, Ephraim, 
Nathan, and Richard, and several daughters; 
but all are dead, so far as I know. 

Samuel Burdick married a daughter. She 
had sons and daughters; but all are dead. 
There are Babcocks, Potters, and Burdicks, 
descendants of that family, scattered over our 

Elishah married a Potter, and he left three 
sons and two daughters; but all are dead. 
Elisha left three sons and one daughter. Two 
sons are still living, so far as I know. The two 
daughters are both dead. The older married 
a man by the name of Star, and they left a 
daughter, who married Dr. Stillman. She is a 

24 369 

370 memorip:s of eighty-two years 

widow, and now resides at Plainfield, N. J. 
The other daughter married a Baptist preacher, 
and I think lives in Brooklyn, but has no 

Thomas Lanphear left a son and daughter, 
who live in or near Phenix, R. I. Harris left 
one son, who now lives at Rockville. His 
name is N. Henry Lanphear. 

Enoch Lanphear left two daughters, Mrs. 
Carpenter and Mrs. Gavet, now living in 
Westerly, R. I. Two sons, Rowland and Capt. 
Clark Lanphear. Rowland is dead, and Clark 
lives at Waterford, Conn. One daughter died 
in Wisconsin, several years ago. Uncle Enoch 
was a large man, and weighed over three hun- 
dred pounds. 

Samuel and Hezekiah were twins. Samuel 
moved west to Alfred, N. Y., quite early, 
and raised up ten children; Emory, Avery, 
Ethan, Nathan, Hannah, Sarah, Lavinna, Lucy, 
Mary, and Harriet. Ethan (myself), Nathan, 
Lucy, Mary, and Harriet are now living. Lucy 
is the wife of Dr. E. R. Maxs, of Syracuse, 
N. Y. Mary is the widow of Benjamin L. 
Wight, deceased, and Harriet is the wife of 
Orson W. Babcock, president of the National 
Bank of Nortonville, Kan. Nathan is still 
living in Nile, Allegany County, N. Y., a vet- 


eran of our Rebellion, and was a prisoner nearly 
eleven months. 

Hezekiah had two sons and three daughters, 
all now dead but one son, George R. Lanphear, 
who lives with his family in Westerly, R. I. 
William, his brother, left a widow, and I think 
two or three sons and one daughter, near Rich- 
mond Switch, R. I. 

William Lanphear, my uncle, was married 
three times. By his first wife he had two 
children, a son and daughter, both now dead; 
by the second, two or three daughters, all now 
dead but one. Achas moved to Alfred, I 
think, in 1827 or 1828. He married Miss 
Weltha Stillman. They raised three sons, 
Joseph, David, and Daniel; two daughters, 
Eliza and Emma. All the family are now dead 
but Daniel. He lives I think in West Almona, 
N. Y. His mother lived to be over ninety 
years of age. 

Joseph Lanphear, Sr., left one son Ethan, 
and one daughter, Lovina, both dead. I think 
Hannah, G. H. Utter's wife, of Westerly, R. I. 
is a descendant of Lovina. 

Simeon Lanphear left three daughters and 
one son. The daughters were all mutes, and I 
think there was one other daughter, who mar- 
ried Clark Sanders, but died long ago. But 


the whole family is dead now. One daughter, 
that we called Aunt Amy, married a man by 
the name of Truman. I think Miss Hannah 
Crandall is the only descendant of that family, 
and daughters of Joseph and Emeline Cran- 
dall. I think that Grandfather Lanphear had 
two or three other daughters that I can not 
bring to mind, who died when I was quite 
young, if not before I was born. 

My grandfather, I think, had a half-brother 
by the name of Maxson Lanphear. He had, I 
think, three sons, Truman, Jonathan, and 
Ephraim, and two daughters, Nancy and 
Clarissa; Is^ancy married Thomas Burdick, and 
Clarissa married Ezekiel Sanders, and they all 
moved to Alfred, X. Y., and all died there, 
leaving some descendants to follow them. 
One daughter by the name of Barsheba, mar- 
ried a widower in Westerly. He died, and 
she is living in that town at the present time. 

Another sister of my father comes to mind, 
who married Wait Clarke. They had five 
sons and three daughters: William, Ephraim, 
Paul, Thomas, and Ezekiel, Abigail, Mary, and 
Genette. All these married, and some of them 
left children; but they themselves have all died. 

There was another Lanphear, cousin to my 
grandfather. He had three sons and one 


daughter. The daughter married a man by the 
name of Richard Hull. They all emigrated 
early to Alfred, N. Y., and settled in what is 
now called Lanphear's Valley, taking the name 
from these Lanphears. Their names were, as 
I remember, Nathan, Jonathan, and Silas. 
Nathan was twice married. By his first wife 
he had one son and two daughters; the son and 
one daughter are dead. The younger daughter 
married Daniel F. Langworthy, a cousin of 
mine. He is dead, but she is living in the 
same valley. There is a son by the second 
wife; he married a niece of said Daniel F.Lang- 
worthy, and lives near by. liichard Hull, that 
married these Lanphears' sister, was quite poor, 
and had but little education, but he decided to 
preach, and was ordained before he could 
scarcely read and write, and yet was quite an 
acceptable preacher for those times. He 
preached the first sermon I ever heard in my 
childhood, in a schoolhouse. This was before 
they had any church edifice in the town. He 
had no coat to his back, or shoes to his feet, 
and people came on foot for miles through the 
woodlands by marked trees to hear him preach. 
My father and David Stillman considered the 
matter, and the next Sabbath the preacher had 
some shoes. 


Elder Hull and his wife raised live sons, and, 
I think, four daughters. Nathan, Varnum, 
Oliver P., and Hamilton all became preachers, 
and were ordained. Richard was a physician. 
Martha, Hannah, and the other two girls made 
great exhorters. The older married a German 
by the name of Ernst. They raised one son, 
and he is a preacher. Jonathan and Silas, 
of the three brothers, died many years ago. I 
do not remember whether they left any chil- 
dren or not. This is an imperfect report of the 
Lanphears, as it is all written up from memory. 



My mother was a Potter. Her father was 
Nathan Potter. He had three brothers, 
Thomas, Joseph, and Henry, and several sisters, 
and all lived at what has always since been 
called Potter's Hill. He had cousins by 
scores. Nathan, my grandfather, had five 
sons, Nathan, David, Elisha, Albert, and Ezra. 
Daughters, Hannah (my mother), Cynthia, 
Susan, and Milla. 

Cynthia married Amos Crandall. They 
moved, with my parents, to Alfred, with the 
goods of both families all on one wagon, 
drawn by one yoke of oxen. They had no 
children then. They raised two sons and two 
daughters, Ezra and Almond, Mary Ann and 
Julia, now all dead. Amos Crandall died a 
few years ago, over ninety years of age. 

Susan married Daniel Langworthy. He 
died, and left her with two sons, Daniel F. and 
Russel, Lucy and the three other girls (I for- 
get their names). Lucy married a man by the 
name of Lewis in 1840. I chanced to be in 
Rhode Island at that time and attended their 



wedding, and he made arrangements with me 
to rent a farm for him. I did so, and they 
moved to Alfred the next spring. He died, 
and left her with three boys. Two of them are 
physicians in New York City, and the other is 
in business in Philadelphia, Fa., and the widow 
is now in Alfred, about eighty-six years of age. 
The rest of the family moved to Alfred after 
this, where Aunt Susan died. She lived with 
her son, Daniel F., who married a Lanphear 
girl, the daughter of N. Lanphear. Aunt 
Susan's family all married, but are now all 

Milla married a man by the name of Isaac 
Fenner. They moved to Alfred about 1830 or 
1832, where they both died. They left three 
sons and three daughters. Andrew is a mer- 
chant in Almond, N. Y. ; William lives in 
Auburn, N. Y., and Elisha is in the cheese 
business, in Alfred. Susan married a man by 
the name of Smith, who is a farmer in Alfred- 
One of the other girls married a professor, 
and they are in a school in the West. The 
other married a minister by the name of Davis, 
and lives in Milton, Wis. All have living 

Nathan Potter built a carding and cloth- 
dressing mill, but by accident fell under the 


water wheel aiid was killed. He left two or 
three sons and a daughter; but I think the 
family are all dead. 

David ran a foundry in Almond, Allegany 
Co. He married Lavinna Stillman, of Alfred. 
They had one daughter, but the family are all 
dead now. Elisha married Miranda Maxson 
for his first wife, and they had one daughter, 
and she married Dr. Crandall, and he died, 
leaving one daughter in Wellsville, N. Y. 
Uncle Elisha built a factory for making 
cloth. His first wife died, and he married a 
young woman by the name of Sheppard, at 
Shiloh, N. J. He died, leaving one son by 
his last wife. I met him in California nine 
years ago, where they now are, I suppose. 

Albert married a lady by the name of Sweet. 
He was a farmer, and lived on the old home- 
stead of his father and mother in Alfred, near 
Five Corners. He died, leaving two sons 
one daughter, and his wife. One son lives on 
the old farm with his mother, is married, and 
has several children. The other son is in Cali- 
fornia. The mother is now about eighty-five 
years of age. 

Ezra Potter married Content Sisson. They 
are both dead, leaving one daughter, who mar- 
ried Freborn Hamilton, and lives near Alfred 


station, in Alfred. They have a son and a 
daughter. Albert also left one daughter, who 
married a man named Davis, and lives near 
Mr. Hamilton's. 

The Potters intermixed by marriage largely 
with the Lanphears, Langworthys, Babcocks, 
Cottrells, and Clarks, so that it is difficult to 
decipher our relationship. The old stock of 
Babcocks at Potter's Hill and the Valley, 
Daniel Babcock, Jacob, and Oliver, were of our 
kin, for their mother was a Potter. They are 
all dead and gone, but they have left children 
to shake our hand, and say, "How do you do, 
Cousin Ethan ? " It is a good place to visit 
around my old birthplace at Potter's Hill and 
in Rhode Island, because of this relationship. 

As to my own family, my older brother, 
Emory, died many years ago, leaving a wife 
and one son, a little boy that grew up partly 
under my care. When the Pebellion broke out 
in our country, he enlisted in the Eiglity-Fifth 
New York Regiment, and unfortunately, when 
that regiment was taken prisoners at Newbern, 
S. C, he was taken with the rest, and died in the 
Rebel prison. 

My brother Avery was an Adventist preacher 
during the last of his life, and died from the 
kick of a horse while on his way to attend a 


Son of Avery Lanpliear, deceased, now leading surgeon at College 
of Medicine and Surgery. St. Louis, Mo. 


conference in the northern part of the State of 
New York. He left three daughters and one 
joung son that was named after his uncle 
Emory. His oldest daughter married an Ad- 
ventist who died a few years ago, leaving her 
in good circumstances, and she has gone to 
Kansas to care for her mother in her old age. 

Arvilla married D. T. Fero, and is with him 
as a missionary under the auspices of the 
Seventh-day Adventists at Seattle, Wash. They 
have one child and a grandchild. Seraphene 
married a man by the name of Fuller, he being 
a practicing physician at Hartford, Kan. 

Emory studied medicine with his step-father, 
attended medical college in St. Louis; was grad- 
uated, taking first and third premiums among 
the students ; commenced practice in Kansas; 
married; lost his wife, leaving him one daugh- 
ter. After this he went to Europe to gain all the 
medical knowledge he could; came back, and 
married again, and began practice in Kansas 
Oity; issued a medical journal for a few years, 
making surgery a specialty, and is now the 
leading surgeon in the medical college in St. 
Louis, Mo. 

A. Judson Hall was given to me by his 
mother when three years old, after his father 
<lied. He was a good boy, and when he be- 


came eigliteen years of age he enlisted in the- 
army in the Civil war, but unfortunately with 
others was taken prisoner, and was confined in 
a rebel prison for eleven months, but is living, 



I WAS born of Sabbath-keeping parents, and 
brought up to attend church. I was at the 
raising of the first Seventh-daj Baptist church 
in Alfred, N. Y., when a small boy, and as I 
grew up, 1 attended that church. I was brought 
up to read the Bible, and to believe what the 
preachers preached. The first Seventh-day 
Baptist church edifice in this country was built 
at Newport, R. I. The second I think in old 
Hopkinton, R. I. The first general conference 
I attended in Rhode Island was at that church. 
After that, however, I attended at other 
churches in that State, and on one occasion I 
went with a company to Newport to visit the 
old first church. 

This first church was built over two hundred 
years ago. Rhode Island seems to be the 
mother of Seventh-day Baptists in this coun- 
try. My relatives were mostly Sabbath-keep- 
ers. Rhode Island was a small State, and 
emigration began, and Seventh-day Baptists 



as well as others desired to emigrate. My 
father fell into line to leave the rocky coast of 
his old State. He was the first man that went 
from Westerly, R. I., to Alfred on foot, five 
hundred miles, to seek a new home. This was 
in 1816, the year called the cold season. He 
and his brother-in-law, Amos Crandall, after 
that traveled up there on foot, selected land, 
put up log huts, and went back and gathered 
up their substance, put them on one wagon, 
drawn by a yoke of oxen, moved through the 
wilderness to Alfred, and were among the first 
organizers of the first church of Alfred. Here 
I resided in Allegany County until I came to 
Plainfield to live, thirty-one years ago. 

In reading my Bible for myself I found that 
God created the Seventh-day Sabbath and none 
other, and that the Sabbath was made for man. 
As I was a man, and a part of God's creation, 
and as the Sabbath was created for men, I 
decided that I would be man enough to observe 
it; so I have never observed any Sabbath 
created by man. As I have been permitted to 
travel over the most of our country, I have 
endeavored to keep the Sabbath day with Sab- 
bath keepers wherever I could find them, and 
when I could not find them, 1 would try to 
keep it with my Creator. 


I have been permitted to attend many con- 
ferences with the S. D. Baptists, and in this 
way have kept myself fairly well posted as to 
their progress and failures. I have been per- 
sonally acquainted with over one hundred and 
sixty Seventh-day ministers, and for the benefit 
of the younger people, I will mention some of 
the ministers with whom I was familiar when I 
was young: Elder Amos Saterly, Wm. Saterly, 
Elder Clark, Daniel Coon, Stillman Coon, Ray 
Green, Henry Green, John Green, the great 
evangelist Joel Green, Wm. Green, Thomas 
Sweet, Richard Hull, the father of Nathan, 
Yarnun, O. P. Hull, and Hamilton, now all 
dead; Daniel Babcock, Elder Chester, and 
ethers. They were mostly godly men. I will 
mention Elder E. S. Bailey, as he was a phy- 
sician of men's bodies as well as their souls. 
Elder W. B. Maxson was a peacemaker and 
scholar of his time. It seems that they were 
more progressive in the way of converting souls 
than preachers of this day are in the Seventh- 
day Baptist denomination. 

Preachers had no stipulated salary in those 
days. They took what the people could do for 
them, and trusted in God for the rest. At any 
rate there seemed to be a greater growth in 
those days in the denomination in proportion 


than now. They just about hold their own as 
to numbers, about ten thousand. They con- 
tinue to preach endless torment of the wicked, 
that people go to their destiny at death, that 
heaven is full of infants, and that parents will 
find their infants full grown in heaven when 
they get there. At least some of the leaders 
preach this. They are as bad as some of the 
old Methodist preachers were, who preached 
that "there were infants in hell not a span 

The old Seventh-day Baptists, as ignorant as 
they were, would not have allowed their members 
to unite with secret societies or a thousand and 
one other societies, without the permission of 
the church; but to-day ministers, as well as the 
members, join those societies for the sake of 
popularity and gain; and what time and money 
have they for the church after giving them to 
these outside societies? Really, I believe that 
politicians rule the churches with more power 
than Christians. The man that preaches 
against the most wickedness gets the most 
curses. I know of a church not many miles 
away whose pastor preached against members' 
joining these societies, and it raised a breeze. 
Some said that it was none of his business 
how many societies they belonged to, and if 


he was going to preach thus, he might as well 

Under the preachings of those old preachers 
men of awful wickedness would brake down in 
tears on account of sin. But, as now, if they 
can be preached to heaven as quickly as they 
die, what have they to shed tears for ? I have 
made up my mind to write and preach against 
sin where I find it, whether in the church or 
out of it, and of course I am out of it. 



The people of this denomination were origi- 
nally First-day Advents, and were called Miller- 
ites, from the fact that Miller, who was a strong 
believer in the second coming of Christ, and 
made it the study of his life, from his stand- 
point of reckoning time, set a day when Christ 
would come to receive his own. 

I learned much of his character from one 
Elder Leman Andrews, a First-day Baptist 
preacher, who afterward became a Seventh-day 
Baptist. He lived a neighbor to Miller in 
Niagara County, N. Y., about 80 miles distant 
from my home in Allegany County. 

He said that he and Miller had spent many 
hours at night, studying the prophecies of the 
Bible; that Miller was an honest man, and a 
good scholar. He believed that Miller was 
correct in reckoning time when he set the day 
for Christ to appear. But when the day came, 
Christ did not appear. Although this was a 
great disappointment to him and his followers, 
they did not give up the idea that he would 


come, but went to work to learn how and why 
they had made their mistake. The decision 
was that they were correct in reckoning time , but 
their mistake was as to what would happen at 
that time. The event to take place at that 
time was the preparation, or cleansing, of the 

Elder White, with other Adventists, lived in 
the Eastern States, and kept up their service of 
worship. It so happened that a Seventh-day 
Baptist school-teacher from New York State 
was hired to go there to teach school. She 
attended their meetings, and they learned from 
her that they were not keeping the Bible Sab- 
bath; so, as all honest people ought to do, 
they began keeping the seventh-day Sabbath. 
However, the Adventists were divided over 
this question. 

Elder White was a man of remarkable 
power, and proved to be a great financier. 
He printed a little paper, advocating the true 
Sabbath and the Advent doctrines. He after- 
ward removed to Rochester, N. Y., with his 
little publishing concern. Finally some Sev- 
enth-day Adventists settled at Battle Creek, 
Mich., and he decided to move there with his 
little press. This is a short outline as to my 
first knowledge of Seventh-day Adventists, 


and may be imperfect. This was about fifty 
years ago. To learn of their success to this 
date, one has only to read their annual reports. 
Carloads of printed matter are sent out daily 
from their publishing houses all over our land 
and to other countries. I have been in receipt 
of their literature for years. 

Two of their ministers came to my town and 
wished to set up a tent and hold meetings, but 
all refused to allow them to use their land, as 
they considered them wicked men and danger- 
ous to the public. They came to me, as I had 
a good location, and I permitted them to pitch 
their tent, only a little way from the Seventh- 
day Baptist church, that was built on my farm 
near the village. Elder Wheeler and another 
man were the preachers; they were able men 
and gentlemen. I was a member of the Sev- 
enth-day Baptist church, and of course I was 
censured some; but I believed in a free gospel, 
free speech, and a free religion. 

They held their meetings several weeks, 
until the tent was usually well filled. When 
the Seventh-day Baptists held service, they 
would adjourn their meetings and come to our 
church service. My brother Avery was a dea- 
con in our church at that time. 

I had been studying their doctrine some- 


what, and had come to favor some of their 
teachings, and the more I heard and read, the 
more I believed, and my brother and several 
others became more and more interested. An 
Adventist minister then living at Friendship, 
began to come to our service after the tent was 
removed. His name was Kobbins, and he was 
finally called to fill our pulpit, and preached 
acceptably for them for about eleven years; 
but some of our old orthodox churches found 
fault, and he moved away to ]S^orthern Michi- 
gan. My brother finally became a strong 
Adventist, and was ordained by them as a 
preacher, and died one. 

In one of my journeys West I stopped at 
Lansing, Mich., and attended one of their 
general conferences in a large tent that would 
seat thousands of people. Elder White and 
his wife and other preachers were there, and 
I was treated kindly by them, and when 
I left, my prejudice against them was gone. 

But I must say that some of our Seventh- 
day Baptist churches have ever manifested 
a strong opposition to them, while they, the 
Adventists, were willing to co-operate with the 
Seventh-day Baptists as far as they did agree; 
but the Seventh-day Baptists, in annual con- 
ference, by vote refused to further co-operate 


by sending an exchange of delegates, and the 
church at Flainfield and some other churches 
refused to allow Adventist preachers to preach 
in their churches. 

Elder Andrews, one of their missionaries, 
stopped over with me on his way to Europe. Eld- 
ers White, Waggoner, and others have stopped 
over with me, but none of them were invited to 
preach in our church. With all the opposition 
the Seventh-day Adventists have, and are meet- 
ing, I know of no denomination that has 
made greater progress during the fifty years 
they have been in existence than they have; 
and 1 think it is generally admitted that they 
are doing more to Christianize the world, and 
to ameliorate the condition of the world, accord- 
ing to their numbers, than any other denomi- 

Go to Battle Creek and visit their college, 
sanitarium, publishing house, medical school, 
and old people's home, and watch the carloads 
of Bibles and reading matter shipped every day. 
Go to Oakland and see their publishing house 
there. Go and see their ship " Pitcairn" when 
she leaves our shores loaded down with Bibles, 
missionaries, and books and other reading mat- 
ter, to go to the islands of the seas, nearly all 
the civilized nations of the world, and to dark 


Africa. Observe the publishing houses, and 
publications in the different languages. Remem- 
ber the schools and the health institutions they 
have established in America. Read the statis- 
tics and see hov7 they have multiplied in fifty 
years, nearly fifty thousand constituency, and 
probably thirty thousand to forty thousand fol- 
lowers that are scattered over the v^orld where 
churches are not yet organized; and then listen 
to the complaints made against this people for 
keeping the commandments of God and the 
faith of Jesus; and these complaints come from 
a class professing to be of the church of God. 

Here we have a sample of pious people, of 
what they would do in Arizona. A short time 
ago the Methodist minister and the Methodist 
bishop of this district tried three times to have 
some of our brethren [Seventh-day Adventists] 
in Solomonville arrested for Sunday work and 
for holding meetings in a public building 
there; but the judge finally got tired, and 
asked them if the Adventists had molested 
them in any way. They said, "No." Then 
he asked them if the Adventists had interrupted 
their service or religious meetings; and they 
said, "No." Then he said, "You go home, 
and mind your business, and let them alone." 
It seems that some judges have more religious 


sense than some Methodist ministers and 
Methodist bishops. 

If some preachers and bishops would read 
the declaration of our national Independence, 
they might find a better theology than they are 
teaching from their heathen theology. I have 
often observed that people hated most those 
that preached a doctrine that they could not 
confute, or one that condemned their practice. 
The Adventists are an aggressive people; they 
do not stop to quarrel with any people; they 
take but little part in politics further than 
to show up their sins; and I know of no 
periodical that does that so perfectly as the 
American Sentinel^ published by them. Really, 
I fear that politics and secret societies are kill- 
ing the Seventh-day Baptist denomination of 
to-day, and I believe that nearly all Christian 
churches in our land are suffering from these 
sources and the liquor traffic. Our national 
liberty is in danger from the same sources. 
We can not serve God and mammon. This 
sketch is written from memory. 



This trip was by the way of the Baltimore & 
Ohio Kailroad. As a large delegation from the 
East desired to attend, we got reduced fare and 
specific tickets. Our train took us by way of 
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Harper's 
Ferry, Clarksburg, on to our destination. It 
was a large gathering, as it was not often that 
a conference was held in Yirginia. 

On our return trip we were allowed to stop 
off one day to visit Washington. But few of 
the delegates had ever visited Washington. 
Myself being somewhat acquainted, a company 
of the friends decided that I should remain 
with them and pilot them during the day. I 
consented with pleasure. Of course I had to 
hustle them to get around. First we went to 
the capitol building, patent office, library, sol- 
diers' home, the white house or the president's 
home, to Georgetown, back to the treasury 
■building, Washington monument, and up to see 



how they made greenbacks at the money de- 
partment, the musuem, post office, and then to 
the horticultural garden, and other places of 
interest, and by this time all were tired, and 
concluded they could go no farther. 

One of the pleasantries at Washington, when 
you have time, is to take the street cars to the 
station at the Potomac, take a steamboat to 
Mount Yernon, Washington's old home, where 
one can spend a whole day, and enjoy it. This 
trip we could not take in the same day. 

Washington has some of the finest avenues 
in our country, if not in the world. A trip 
over to the long bridge and to the militia de- 
partment will pay when one has time; but for 
one day it can not all be seen and learned of 
Washington. My company was so well pleased 
that they offered to pay me for my day's work; 
for, as they said, they could not have learned 
and seen one half that they had without a 
pilot. But so far as I was concerned, I could 
enjoy no better pay than to help others to 
enjoy seeing the beauties of nature and art as- 
I have seen and enjoyed, myself. 

It is interesting to take a company around- 
in this way, and see the contrast in different 
individuals as to their taste and curiosity, for 
different kinds of scenery. Mankind is mad& 


lip of about the same material, but how differ- 
ently put together. But I think it a blessed 
thing that it is so. Our company was ready 
for the sleeping car when the train started at 
nine o'clock to take them on their journey 
home, though tired, yet satisfied with the meet- 
ing, and the Virginia scenery, and the good 
time they had in Washington, and their jour- 
ney home. 



Christ came to bring peace on earth and 
good will to men. He came to save life, not 
to destroy. His religion was based upon love, — 
love to God and love to our fellow men. His 
instruction was to liis disciples, "Go ye inta 
all the world, and preach the gospel to every 
creature. He that believeth and is baptized 
shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall 
be damned " (condemned). Not a hint is given 
to go into the world with rifles and bullets, 
ships of war and cannon, torpedoes, and other 
weapons of death to compel men to accept his 
religion or be shot down on the spot. 

Peter, with his wonderful zeal for his Master, 
drew his sword and cut off a man's ear, but 
Christ performed a miracle right there, proving 
that it was better to heal than to wound. The 
whole teaching of Christ's gospel was a gospel 
of love. Love thy neighbor as thyself, and to 
love even your enemies, and those that despite- 
fully use you. And if thine enemy hunger, 
feed him. And he condemned the man that 



hateth his neighbor or his brother, and calls him 
a " murderer." 

How different do we find the church of 
to-day, and the nations that profess to be civil- 
ized and Christian ! Instead of using the gos- 
pel of Christ, that is said to be " sharper than a 
two-edged sword," they are using carnal weap- 
ons of this world of their own make, and send- 
ing thousands upon thousands of men to the 
front to be slaughtered or to slaughter each 
other, and the nations that do not conform to 
our interest and to our religion, and yet claim- 
ing to be religious after the teachings of our 
Saviour that came into the world to save, not to 
condemn or take life. And we hear our pas- 
tors and teachers praying for the success of our 
armies in slaughtering thousands upon thou- 
sands of our fellow men created in the image of 
our God. And many of our preachers preach 
men that are killed thus fighting, or belong to 
their church, right to heaven as fast as they are 
killed or die. 

O, shame, shame for such teachers, preach- 
ers, and churches in the world ! Stop a mo- 
ment, and read up statistics of our late war 
with Cuba, and the islands of the sea, the 
thousands of our own men, and the thousands 
of the heathen or half-civilized people of these 


islands that have been murdered without a con- 
version to Christ's religion that I have heard; 
but what do we find ? If reports are true, there 
are now ten drunkards on these islands to one 
before the war, and they are made by the 
establishment of the American saloon, and 
the introduction of the canteen in our armies, 
and this right in the face of Christ's gospel, 
that says no drunkard can enter the kingdom 
of heaven, and the woe that is promised to him 
that putteth the bottle to his neighbor's lips and 
maketh him drunken, etc. Yet our preachers 
are praying for success in this warfare. If you 
keep posted on the English war against the 
Boers in South Africa, you will observe that 
England acknowledges that they have lost over 
15,000 men. They claim to be a civilized 
nation, and religious. How do they accord 
with Christ's religion? 



You older people will remember that the 
nations, especially those professing religion 
and civilization, became quite zealous for 
peace, and conventions were held denouncing 
wars, and the cry was peace, peace, arbitrate, 
arbitrate; but no sooner had the amens ended 
than nearly all the nations began to prepare 
for war, and our enlightened nations, that have 
so long boasted of their civilization and religious 
rights, are ready to kill and slay the heathen 
in the islands of the sea for expansion and pos- 
session in order to hold control over other 
nations as much as possible, and to do it under 
the name of love for Christ and his religion, 
and for the salvation of the poor heathen in 
Africa and on the islands of the sea. 

What better are we as a nation than were the 
scribes and Pharisees, when Christ pronounced 
the woe unto them, — scribes and Pharisees, etc., 
— or the man that went up into the temple to 
pray, that said: "God. I thank thee that I am 
not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, 
adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast 
26 401 


twice in the week. I give tithes of all that I 
possess" ? Does not this represent our nation ? 
Are we not a wonderful tithing people ? Do 
we not pay ten dollars to support wars to one 
dollar paid to missions to convert the world ? 

What is the condition of the world to-day ? 
Is it not a time of wars and rumors of wars? 
What are the signs of the times ? Are not the 
people and the nations ''waxing worse and 
worse ? " Was there ever a time when the rich 
were oppressing the poor more than now ? Was 
there ever a time when there were more banks 
empty than now ? and more defaulters among 
bank officers and men in high places? Was 
there ever a time when more murders were com- 
mitted, and other crimes ? Was there ever a 
time when our jails and prisons were more 
crowded, and a time when more criminals were 
running at large because of much money paid to 
judges and lawyers ? and was our politics ever 
more wicked, and men ready to buy and sell 
water ? Was there ever a time when the rum 
and saloon power controlled the church and 
people more than now ? and is there not as 
much danger now from that power as there was 
from the slave power before our late war and 
the Rebellion, and was there ever a greater time 
of trouble by strikes in every kind of business? 


and is not business for the common working 
people and small capitalist being more and more 
cornered in by large capitalists and combines ? 
Let the reader consider these things politically 
and religiously. 



While we profess to be a Christian nation, 
we educate our children that it is right to pre- 
pare for war. While our school laws make no 
provision for such education, many of our 
schools have adopted the idea of forming the 
boys and young men into military companies, 
dressed them in military dress, and furnished 
them with all the paraphernalia for drill and 
parade, and to learn the tactics of war, and the 
school boards provide a place for them to drill 
at the expense of the taxpayers without regard 
to law or common sense; and I know some 
churches that have introduced the soldier drill, 
with the equipage, into their Sunday schools 
in order to attract their boys to attend the Sun- 
day school, Ep worth League, etc., and in that 
way get the young men and boys into the 
church. But what are such young men good 
for when thus attracted to join the church ? 
Their education is more for athletics and sol- 
diers' drill than for an interest in Bible educa- 
tion; drills, games, and sociables, dances, and 


attending clubs than anything else. Then 
wonder why our young people do not take more 
interest in church services and the prayer and 
conference meetings of the church. 

Some of our States have passed laws on the 
subject of intemperance, and the evil effects of 
alcohol upon the human system, etc., and that 
their evil effects should be taught to our chil- 
dren; but their evils are scarcely heard of in our 
schools, while the sin of drunkenness prevails in 
nearly every district in our State; our boys are 
often drunk and arrested, lined or imprisoned 
in our jails. And the saloon doors are opened 
to them by the people, and our boys come up 
drunken politicians, and then the parents and 
people wonder that their boys and girls take 
such a bad course. As the twig is bent, the 
tree is inclined, and how and by whom is the 
twig bent ? 





The world has met with many changes in a 
man's lifetime of eighty-two years. Probably 
the most of our children are born in cities and 
large towns now. The father goes to his bus- 
iness in the larger cities. He leaves early in 
the morning and returns late at night. The 
mother bears the children, but she does not 
want the care of them, and turns them over to 
the servants, and may not see them more than 
once or twice a day. She is in her parlor, a 
sort of piece of furniture, receives company, 
makes calls, and attends the sociables of the 
church and neighborhood. Some attend balls 
and golf clubs, and others go to euchre parties, 
where they keep a little champagne for their 
stomach's sake, and to have a good time; and 
most of these think they must be fashionable, 
and go to the seashore or some other resort or 
watering place. The children are often left at 
home with the servant girl, or the servant girl 
is taken along to care for the children, while 


the mother sits on the balcony of her cottage, 
reads novels, and chats vrith the aristocracy, so- 
called, and passes off the season as a sort of an 
aristocrat herself. 

The husband goes home once a week or so, 
leaves instruction with the servant girls, and 
sees the children for a little time, just long 
enough to know how many he has, and to know 
his own. The next week he may spend a day 
or so for his health, and see how his wife is get- 
ting along. She of course is getting along 
nicely, has many favored friends, both gen- 
tlemen and ladies. If the children are there, 
she will send for the servant to come and tell 
how she is getting along with the children. 

"Oh! yes, yes," says the nurse, "getting 
along nicely, save George got a little sick once, 
but I took him to the doctor and he is nicely 

Tlie outing season is over and mother and 
children are at home again. The husband 
comes from his business as of old, sleeps over- 
night, and off to his business early in the morn- 
ing, and possibly does not see the children at 
all further than to see them in their cots long 
enough to count them, and says good-by to his 
wife, and tells her to have John take the chil- 
dren to school with the team if it is stormy. 


He may come home for Sabbath; but so many 
things are needed to be looked after that he can 
not attend church, but says, "Wife, have John 
take the children to Sabbath-school, and let the 
servant go along to look after them.'' So the 
children attend the school under the care of the 
servants, and possibly they are put in classes, 
and under teachers that don't know whether 
Christ was born of a woman, or came into the 
world with a spiritual body or a fleshly one, or 
both. Leaving me to judge, I would say that 
a teacher to instruct children religiously and 
morally should understand the meaning of the 
gospel, of the two better than a superintend- 

The time has come when the children of our 
country do not wish to live and remain in the 
country on the farms, but desire to go into the 
towns and cities, and to the high schools and be 
supported without much labor, and as they grow 
up, they can be seen hanging around the corners 
of the streets watching for something to turn 
up instead of pulling out to find something to 
turn up. Many turn up in the jail, all from poor 
training while young. 



God created the world for man's occupancy, 
and he created man in his own image, capable 
of improvement by invention. Thus art and 
nature brought together make up all beauty in 
the world. 

It is man's privilege to enjoy the beauty of 
this world, but not to abuse it. I have been 
permitted to live a long life, and have been 
permitted to enjoy seeing much of the beauties 
of our own land, and the products of other 
lands. I attended the World's Fair in New 
York many years ago, when the Crystal Palace 
was erected there, and climbed to the height of 
that observatory where the beauties of earth, 
cities, bay, and ocean could be seen with the 
naked eye; and by the use of the glass, I could 
see far away and see steamboats and other 
crafts of art floating over the rolling billows of 
the ocean. 

In my earlier days I climbed to the inside 
height of Trinity church steeple. I early 
learned that the eyes were never satisfied of 



seeing; but were looking for something more 
beautiful just beyond. At least my eyes seemed 
to be that way. 

I visited many State fairs, and attended the 
National Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia. 
This was at that time the wonder of the world, 
and I can never forget my feelings when I set my 
eyes on the mammoth engine there set up to run 
all the manufacturing machinery invented and 
brought there to show to the world what art 
and invention were doing to help on the beau- 
ties and benefits for the world. This engine 
was all manufactured piece by piece before being 
brought there, and every part so perfect that 
when the power was attached, the monster 
moved like clock-work, without a jar or 
break, and when the machinery was attached, 
everything moved in its order as if it was of 
God's world of revolutions. As I stood and 
looked, it almost seemed as if that monster 
engine could talk. As we moved around from 
place to place, from one nation's department 
to another, and saw the manufactured things 
of art of every nation, I concluded that our 
Creator must have known that every nation 
could be of use in the world he had created. 

We passed around to the horticultural depart- 
ment, and there found the beauties of nature by 


■cultivation had outstripped for beauty every- 
thing earthly, if not the beauty of the stars in 
heaven. We crossed over to a separate tent, 
and when inside what did we see? — A tent of 
rhododendrons of all hues and colors, that the 
works of art had set in rows and beds, inter- 
mixed with colors in such a way as to make the 
whole inside represent one great enormous 
flower. When I found this tent, I hurried 
around to the ladies' department to find my 
better half and her special friends to come and 
see, and I will not attempt to represent the 
expressions of the ladies, for flowers are nearly 
always the delight of women, but you may 
judge from what you know of women when 
wonderfully delighted. But it will not do to 
stay here too long, for some people are in a 
hurry and desire to see everything in one day 
or one week, so we pass on, and step into a 
New England eating house supplied with baked 
beans and the old ways of cooking, by old New 
Englanders, with johnny cakes baked on a board, 
and the hasty pudding as of old, with crust 
coffee and huckleberries for sauce. It was rather 
novel for these days, but we made it pass, and 
we pass on and into the art galleries and halls, 
and now it was rather difficult to keep our com- 
pany together, as some would wish to learn all 


the particulars about this man and that picture, 
and another would wish to stop and read Abra- 
ham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation all 
through, and others would like to know more 
about " Uncle Tom's Cabin," etc. So you may 
imagine what trouble it was to pilot much of a 
company under such circumstances. 



My nephew and namesake, living at Geneva Lake, Wis. 



We were getting old, but the people of our 
country and the countries abroad are all alive 
for the World's Fair, and our curiosity pulled 
that way. It is but a little distance now to 
Chicago to what it seemed to be when I first 
came down the lakes to Buffalo on a steamer, 
before railroads ran cars along the lake shores, 
in 1844:, when the population was only about 
11,000. So we dropped a note to a certain 
landlord near the Fair grounds, to learn if he 
could save us old folks a good room for a few 
weeks while we attended the Fair. He re- 
sponded in the afiirmative, and said, " Come 
on." So we arranged our matters and took a 
palace car for Chicago, and went through with- 
out a change, and were landed as near our hotel 
as the cars went, and then by carriage we were 
delivered at the hotel door, and we entered 
therein, and were waited upon into the reception 
room, when I went to the office and inquired if 
he had reserved a room for an old couple com- 
ing from Plainfield, N. J. 



" What is your name, sir? " said he. 

"Ethan Lanphear/' 

" Yes, sir," said the landlord, "and we will 
have your room in order very soon. Be seated 
a few minutes." 

Our room was a fine one, located in front and 
on the second floor, where we could see the 
Ferris wheel move from our bay window. The 
house was kept on the European plan, so that 
we did not have to get in at special mealtimes. 

After getting fairly settled, I said to the 
landlord, " I suppose you have mostly strangers 
to put up with you; and you must be governed 
by strict rules lest some slip away without 
paying their bills. What shall I deposit in 
advance, as 1 am a stranger ! " 

"Not a farthing, sir; a man that carries the 
face you do can stop as long as you please, and 
pay when you get ready." 

He did not explain what he thought of my 
physiognomy, but I stayed until I got ready to 
leave before I paid my bill. 

The street cars and stages passed our door 
every ten or fifteen minutes back and forth to 
the Fair grounds, so that we could go and come 
early or late as we desired, and now we were 
ready for business, and could take our own 



As we were accustomed to traveling and 
sight-seeing, we decide to take our time. So 
we took a trip on the cars around the grounds 
first and got our bearings, and set our compass 
so that we should not get our heads set on the 
wrong side of our shoulders as some do in large 
cities or crowds. If a person keeps his head 
level, he wil] know which way to go home at any 
time. Next we go inside and take a survey of 
the streets and locations of State and national 
buildings by our map, so that we can take in 
all departments as we go along without too 
much travel. 

Now we are ready, and we stop first in front 
of the Washington State building, and the first 
surprise was to see the building with the first 
story built up with Washington's mammoth 
trees, squared about two to three feet square, 
and one hundred feet long, laid top of each 
other in cob-house fashion. We had seen 
these wonderful trees in our travels in that 
country; but the query was, How did they ever 
get them to Chicago? But it has been said, 
27 417 


where there is a will there is a way. And 
again it has been said that "money makes the 
mare go." And our nation is the most invent- 
ive of any nation in the world. But there 
were inventions long ago, or the ancients could 
not have moved the cedars of Lebanon by land 
and water to Jerusalem as they did to build the 
temple. I presume the inventive power existed 
very early, only wanting circumstances and 
demand to draw them to the surface. 

The Creator knew all things before they 
were created, but brought them into use only 
when mankind needed them. Possibly I am 
getting into deep water, and will change the 
subject by viewing the productions of that new 
State. To tell all about them is out of the 
question; but to see logs fifty to seventy-five 
feet long, four to six and eight feet in diameter, 
is a little fishy. Well, one might get up quite 
a fish story from the Columbia River bordering 
the State of Washington, but there is too much 
of real things at the World's Fair to stretch 
much from the reality. So we step into the 
Iowa State building, and here we find corn and 
other grains turned into beautiful calico all 
over the walls to show the corn, etc., that they 
raise, with all colors and shades, and what they 
can do with it to make a show. 


Wife says, "It is now near noon. Had we 
not better go to our lunch ? " So we go for the 
ladies' department and the eating saloon. " Oh, 
for all the world," sajs she, "we can never 
get anything in such a crowd as this." We 
wait an hour and a half, and we decide to go 
outside the grounds, and there we find every 
restaurant crowded, and we get on the cars and 
go to our hotel, where everybody eats on the 
European plan, and here we find every table 
full; but the landlord took us into another 
room, where we were well served. 

We continued our visits to the grounds from 
day to day for a week (save Sabbath day). 
We found something new every day, and I 
presume we traveled ten miles each day, would 
get awful tired every day, but would rest up 
every night; and my wife would follow all day, 
for she was ambitious to see all that could be 
seen, and every day .would bring something 
new. And as we visited minerals, and came to 
Lot's wife in a statue of salt, she thought that 
awful, and said, "Who would have thought 
that anyone would make this figure in salt to 
attract attention to his business in the manu- 
facture of salt?" 

We will let this chapter rest here, and after 
we get rested, will try to go over the grounds 



We have a hard task before us. The people 
pour in by the thousands, and really it seems 
almost impossible to get about from building 
to building. The streets, alleys, and whole 
grounds seem alive with people; everybody 
seems to wish to see everything before they go 
home. But we make up our minds that the 
Fair belongs to us as much as to anyone else, 
if we pay our fare and behave ourselves as 
well. Here let me say, that of all the crowds 
of people I was ever in, I never saw a better 
behaved crowd in my life. I was in New 
York when the Prince of Wales entered that 
city. It was an awful crowd. Everybody 
wished to get a sight of the Prince as he was 
driven through Broadway. For two or three 
miles, every old box was covered with people. 
Some climbed lamp posts, and men paid hun- 
dreds of dollars for the right of a window, and 
some climbed to the housetops, and it was 
almost an impossibility to cross the street any- 
where. It was pull and haul, and a knock 


down here and there, and it reminded me of 
the seals on the rocks at the cliffs in a quarrel 
to see who should occupy the best place over 
at the Kocky Cliffs at San Francisco. But here 
at the Fair everyone seemed to be happy, 
good natured, and acted as if he wished 
everybody to see what he saw. All nation- 
alities met and passed each other good na- 
turedly; though they might not speak a word 
to be understood, their faces showed that they 
were all of one blood, and of God's creation. 

The Fair was a big thing, and all of God's 
creation, or of men that he had created. We 
tried to get over the ground again, and every- 
where we went we saw something new, and 
just bej'ond was something else, and we made 
up our minds that the iS'ational Fair was too 
big for one man to comprehend, and make 
note, yet of no comparison to God's creation, 
so decided to let everyone take notes for him- 
self, for we were getting awfully tired, but 
pass around to a few of the outside, with a 
view to get ready to go home. From the good 
order kept on the grounds, one might conclude 
that Chicago might be a city of good morals, 
and religious. But as we took a drive about the 
city before leaving, we discovered that there 
was a plenty of Sodom outside of the grounds, 


80 we settled our bill, took a sleeper for the 
night on the cars, and the next morning found 
ourselves nearly half way home, somewhat 

We arrived home all safely. To tell the 
truth, we were glad we went to the Fair, but it 
was a hard task on our old bodies, and we were 
more tired than we were on our return from 
either trip to California, or any journey of our 



Self-government is a wonderful trait of 
character, and saves a person a great amount 
of trouble in the world. I have studied to do 
this all through life, and it doubtless has been 
the saving of many quarrels in this world. 
To keep cool under all circumstances is a won- 
derful virtue. It takes more than one person 
to get up a quarrel. But few men will strike a 
cool-headed man. Use cool and kind words, 
and ten chances to one you will conquer your 
enemy, and often will make him your best 

Ever carry good humor with you, and you 
are not in much danger. I speak from obser- 
vation and experience. 1 never have had a 
man strike me in all my journeying through 
life. It requires much decision to do this under 
all circumstances. No man can make a great 
reformer without he learns this trait of char- 
acter. I at one time had great abuse heaped 
upon me in the presence of a minister. He 
said to me, " You have a wonderful power to 
control yourself under all circumstances. I 



could not do it under such abuse." The man 
or person that does tliat will gain friends among 
enemies, and sometime evil men will come to 
jour relief. 

Christ and his disciples suffered many perse- 
cutions; but they brought sinners to Christ and 
Christianity by their exemplary life as well as 
by preaching. If thine enemy hungers, feed 
him. In so doing, you will ^'heap coals of 
fire upon his head." Christ's teaching almost 
invariably was of love. Love your neighbor 
as you would yourself, under the same circum- 
stances; and pray for your enemies. If all 
mankind could drop all sellisliness and self- 
righteousness, there would be but little trouble 
in the world. The man that has the spirit of 
love for God and his fellow man will not use 
carnal weapons, but will use the sword of the 
Spirit, or the gospel, that is sharper than a 
two-edged sword. Try it, and see how it will 



The saloon is not the only temptation that 
leads us and our children astray and to drunk- 
enness and death. Many people, innocently, 
possibly, lead their own children to drunken- 
ness without forethought. But the government 
can have no excuse, for its officers know of the 
crimes that come of the drink traffic and the 
saloon tolerated by them for the revenue they 
receive. But I must not excuse the church for 
her wickedness. Possibly with some it may be 
the sin of ignorance. 

I mean now the use of soft drinks, so called, 
dealt out at our drag stores, and delivered by 
bottling establishments to families. These are 
usually called innocent beverages. But they 
are the initial steps that lead to bad habits 
and death. These are not of the things of 
nature, but the things of habit and of sociabil- 
ity or fashion. The deacon of the church or 
other member may stand behind the drug- 
store counter and deal out these flavored 
drinks, while he may stand in the prayer meet- 
ing in the presence of young and old, and pray 



for temperance reform and the salvation of 
men, and pass himself off as a Christian man, 
and he may be accepted as a Christian man in 
the church. Possibly he may do this inno- 
cently if he has not studied this question. The 
more religious the man, the better his influence; 
for the young and old would not stop to con- 
sider what it was leading to. 

But these soft drinks are like the soft wood 
that we start the fire with; when it gets up 9, 
blaze, then it is ready for the hard wood, or 
stronger liquors. Really, giving these soft 
drinks to our children is fitting them for the 
saloon. When the habit is formed for the soft 
drinks, if they should not be able to get them, 
a whisky sling or a little wine would likely be 
substituted. A young man once told me that 
soft drinks and the consent to drink a glass of 
beer was the cause of his being a drunkard. It 
is much like playing innocent games that lead 
men and boys to become gamblers. This sub- 
ject will bear deep thought among professed 
Christians, and some pastors. 



A LIFE of eighty-two years has given me 
great opportunities of observation and experi- 
ence as to tlie enormity of this curse in our 
land. I have traveled in all our States but 
one or two, and most of our Territories, 
crossed our continent four different routes, 
sailed on both oceans, and most of our 
navigable lakes and rivers, and visited most 
of our larger cities and many small cities 
and towns; thus I have had quite a chance for 
observation. When I first visited New York 
city in 1840, its retail business was mostly done 
about Park Kow, Fulton and Cortland Streets, 
and the Battery. But what do we find now ? It 
has spread out miles beyond Harlem, the Sus- 
pension Bridge has spanned East River, and 
Brooklyn has been annexed, and it is called 
Greater New York, and is the largest city in 
America, commercially and otherwise, and some 
think it the wickedest city in the nation, mostly 
ruled by a Tammany King. But we will not 
decide as to that matter. 



While New York has grown up as it has, 
our wilderness from ocean to ocean has been 
broken up, and the wilderness made to blossom 
as the rose. But have our country's morals 
and religion kept pace with the prosperity of 
the country? Now follow me on westerly to 
the lakes, and on to Chicago. All the way 
along, cities and towns have sprung up, and 
Chicago has been built up since my birth. 
The first time I visited that part of our country, 
in 1844, it had but about 11,000 population, 
and now as we look about, we find it to be the 
next largest city in our nation. And what else 
do we find? As in New York, there are thou- 
sands of saloons and bad houses to capture 
innocent boys and girls and young men, to 
start them on the road to death and hell. 

As we continue our journey all along the 
line of cities and towns, we see on the corners 
of our streets license to sell all strong drinks 
by city ordinance or by united government. 
But we pass on westerly, cross the Mississippi 
Kiver, and reach the Rocky Mountains, and 
we find the signs of perdition in nearly every 
town and city. Cross over the Rockies to Salt 
Lake and the Mormon city, and pass on to 
Ogden, and across the desert, and over the 
Sierra Nevada Mountains to California. Stop 


at the capital; all the way we find this signal of 
death. We pass down to Oakland, a beautiful 
city on the plain, and we see men staggering 
on the streets, special representatives of the 
drink habit, and subjects for jails and prisons. 
Take the large ferryboat over the bay to San 
Francisco, the new city of the Pacific Coast; 
take cars over to the Rocky Cliffs, the great 
place of resort, and the signal of death is found 
all along the line. And we return by the way 
of the Northern States bordering on British 
Columbia and the Canadas, and we find only 
now and then a town but that has its saloons. 

We keep on and cross the Niagara River, and 
pass on to the cities on our borders and follow 
the St. Lawrence to the Thousand Islands, and 
cross over the river to Montreal, and to Quebec, 
and then we find the American saloon kept by 
Americans for the love of money, etc. 

You may pass on to the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
and around the coast to Portland, Me., and to 
Boston, and on to New York, and what do we 
find ? We only find one State, that of Maine, 
and a few towns, but that hang out their signs 
for the saloons. What do you think of the 
journey and the prospect as to good morals and 
Christianity in our land ? But let us pass on, 
following the Jersey shore, and stop oft" and 


make a short visit in the Quaker City, Phila- 
delphia, where our forefathers held counsel to- 
gether for the good of our land, and see if this 
monster has not got a foothold here; but let us 
pass on to Baltimore, that old secession town, 
and you will find the black sheep there in black 
bottles by the wholesale. 

Let us pass on to Washington, the capital of 
these United States, where we send men to 
make our laws. Let us take a peep through 
the corridors of both houses of the capitol build- 
ings, and tell what you can see. There you will 
doubtless see a saloon for each house, and while 
you have a little time, listen for the ringing 
of certain bells, and then see the waiter boys 
deliver glass and decanter to that desk where 
the ring of the bell came from. Then look over 
both houses and see the blotched faces and 
blotched bodies that we, as a professed Chris- 
tian nation, send to Washington to make our 
laws. Take a little trip southward to the balmy 
breezes of flowers and fruits for a winter's rest, 
and there you will find extravagant hotels well 
supplied with intoxicants to deal out to the 
Northern visitor that takes a little in the North 
to keep him warm, and big drinks in the South 
to keep him cool. You may follow the coast 
around to New Orleans, and on to El Paso. 


But we will stop, for there is no end to the 
American rum power. We will go back to 
our national capital. Pass through the White 
House, and see how you will find the president 
supplied in his larders. You need not take 
notes of the different kinds of liquors, but pass 
out through the dining room and see glasses 
and decanters to satisfy every guest. When 
you have done this, visit ever State capital in 
our country and see if you do not see the word 
" saloon " on nearly every block, and a fashion- 
able hotel close by every capital supplied with 
the best of liquors. Then pass on to the front 
of our armies at Cuba and other islands, and 
wonder how it is that the canteen is furnished 
for every soldier, and that there are ten times 
as many drunkards on those islands now as 
there were before the American saloons were 
introduced by American authority. 

Please sum up this chapter and then listen ! 
"Where is my wandering boy to-night?" 
Listen again, ''Why does not my husband 
come home to-night?" All this comes for the 
love of money, love of strong drink, and the 
revenue therefrom. 



This command, carried out, would add much 
to the happiness of this world. No man should 
ever neglect his promise. Every man, before 
entering into an agreement, should sit down 
and count the cost, and then look to his finances 
to see whether he will be able to meet the 
demand when it shall become due. If every 
man would do this, there would be much less 
trouble, and there would be but little use for 
lawyers in the world. Then how much happier 
mankind would be in the world. 

Every man should endeavor to make his 
word as good as his note would be. If that 
was done there would be but little use for 
bankruptcy laws. No bankrupt ever paid an 
honest debt; but oh, how many a man and 
woman has suffered loss of nearly all their 
dependence of living by dishonest bankrupts ! 
These bankrupts are as apt to be found in our 
churches as out of them, and yet they pass 
themselves of^' as Christians, and say that they 
have obeyed the laws of our land, and are thus 
free from all obligations, though they have only 

m^ ^. 

Widow of the late Benj. L. Wright, Nile, Allegany County, N. Y. 



paid ten cents, twenty cents, or fifty cents on a 
dollar to that poor woman or man that they bor- 
rowed money of. At the same time they made 
arrangements to hold in reserve secreted capital 
enough to keep right on as extravagantly as 
before they made the assignment, while his 
creditors are compelled to work hard to make 
ends meet and keep out of the poorhouse. 

I hardly think there will be any bankrupt 
laws in heaven, and I question whether there 
will be any provisions made for the bankrupt 
in the new heaven and earth, unless he is con- 
verted and ready to pay all he has wronged 
in this world, as Zaccheus was after his conver- 

Is is much cheaper for every man to pay as 
he goes, if he has to curtail a little on his 
extravagance. Better wear his old clothes over 
again than to run in debt for new. No man 
will respect the person that wears better clothes 
than he does if he is owing him ten dollars 
or twenty-five dollars for the clothes on his 
back. I have observed many a man trying 
to ape the rich or put on airs of aristrocracy 
that was doing it on other people's money. 
But it will out what the real character of the 
person is, and men will shun him. 

I made up my mind in my early days that it 


was best to be honest with all mankind, and 
pay as I go, and thus far I have never given 
my note and signed with other men but twice, 
and then I had their debts to pay. That ended 
that business. I have done thousands of dol- 
lars in business, and have always had the 
money to make my word as good as if I had 
given my note, and to this day I do not know 
that I owe a dollar to any living being. I never 
thought it prudent to spend money before I 
earned it. I never have taken a glass of strong 
drink since I was nine years of age, but did use 
tobacco for a few years when young because 
others did so, thinking, as fools do sometimes, 
that it was smart. But common sense soon 
taught me better. I think that no person can 
rest better than the person that can conscien- 
tiously lay his head down on his pillow realiz- 
ing that he owes no person anything but love 
and good will. 



This act being entered into without proper 
consideration has brought thousands of miser- 
able families into the world. The married life in 
its intent means a lifetime of happiness or 
misery. Every person, young man or woman, 
should study character well before entering 
upon such an agreement, lest after it is done, 
it will be too late to repent. 

Often persons become too anxious for mar- 
ried life, and do not stop to count the cost, and 
accept the first offer; and many a regret comes 
after the honeymoon passes by. You had bet- 
ter wait a little, for you had better marry one 
both deaf and dumb, than one of those dandies 
that like to drink rum. I would advise every 
young lady to consider it well before consent- 
ing to marrying a rich man's fool because his 
father has gold; for when father is dead and 
his gold is gone, she may be left with a large 
family of children, and possibly some may be 
as weak in nature as their father has been, 
and she left to mourn her condition without a 



dollar coming in. Such circumstances have 
happened many times in a man's lifetime of 
eighty-two years. 

There are Sabbath-keepers and Sunday-keep- 
ers mixed up in the world; for such to inter- 
marry is liable to bring discord, contention, 
and possibly separation. If not, and you raise 
up a family, some may side with father, and 
some with mother, and ten chances to one 
the children come up, nothingarians, good for 
nothing to the church, world, or themselves. Be 
not then so unequally yoked together with 
unbelievers, or with a contrary mind. 



Church and state are distinct institutions, 
having no spiritual relations with each other. 
The church is under the order of Christ, and 
for the building up of Christ's kingdom, and 
for the salvation of the world. The state is of 
an earthly origin, and for the regulation and 
protection of mankind in this world. The 
business of state or nation is to protect the 
church or every individual in the enjoyment 
of his religion, so long as he does not interfere 
with the religious rights of others. 

God is no respecter of rights and privileges. 
He made all provisions for the salvation of all 
men that would accept the conditions. Christ's 
religion is of free grace: " Come unto me, and 
I will give you rest." He compels no man to 
accept salvation. It is a free offering. Eepent 
and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and ye 
shall be saved; and his command to his disci- 
ples was to go into all the world and preach the 
gospel, he that believeth and is baptized shall 
be saved, and he that believeth not shall be 
damned (condemned). 



The state might send officers of state and 
naval authority; but they could not compel any 
person to become a Christian or compel him to 
join any church of Christ's establishing, or 
compel him to repent of his sins. There is but 
one way of salvation, — that by repentance to 
God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. He 
that attempts to climb up some other way is 
a "thief and a robber." 

A statesman can be a Christian, but being a 
statesman does not make him a Christian. If 
our States had more respect for Christianity, 
and would choose men to make our laws that 
would rule in the fear of God, there might be 
a great revolution in our States and nation. 
Christian statesmen would do well to take this 
into account. 



The church, State, and nation are attempting 
to run religion by state and national authority. 
The church seems to keep up a form of godli- 
ness, but seems to have lost its power. They 
are attempting to compel men to be religious by 
State and national laws instead of converting 
men to keep the commandments of God and 
the faith of Jesus Christ. 

Men are asking Congress to have God in- 
serted in our national Constitution, and in 
many of the States the churches are asking 
their Legislatures to pass Sunday laws to com- 
pel all men and women to keep Sunday as the 
Sabbath by state or national law. God has 
created all men free and equal under the law, 
and has never asked State or nation to aid or 
compel men to observe his or any other law. 

To compel men to be religious, or to keep 
any day in particular, would be robbing them 
of their free moral agency, and to reduce them 
to the condition of a beast, and rule them by 
worldly force and power, and thus assume 
themselves to be as gods. 



Really, the church and preachers and priests 
would be more severe than was Constantine 
in his the first edict for observing Sunday. 
He only required the city or town people to 
observe the sun's day; but allowed the coun- 
try people to labor, and save their crops that 
there might be no loss in case of storm, 
etc. If Constantine did not compel the common, 
or working, people to observe the sun worship 
day, why should the church people of to-day 
attempt to compel working men to observe the 
heathen Sunday ? Is it any wonder that the 
people of to-day refuse to be compelled to 
observe Sunday or any other day. 

Our nation, as well as other professed civil- 
ized nations, has stepped in front of Jehovah 
himself and decided to convert the islands of 
the sea by gunpowder, cannon, and bullets; 
and already they have murdered thousands of 
the poor heathen as well as thousands of our 
own young men and soldiers, and caused 
thousands more deaths by starvation and dis- 
ease, and opened the door of hell by the can- 
teen and the American saloon that they have 
established in Cuba and the Philippine Islands. 
This seems to be America's way of making 
Christians, but I can not see any Christ reli- 
gion in it. 



Rent of building per year $ 600 

Fixtures 300 

Bar tender 200 

Servants and other labor 3G0 

Support of family 1,100 

Paid for supplies for liquors 5,000 

Fuel and lights 100 

City license 700 

Government license 25 

Profits in bank, low estimate 1,100 


We have eighteen saloons. Multiply this by 
$9,425, and we find our eighteen saloons cost 
the city $169,650 per year. This amount must 
be made on the profits of the liquors sold by 
the saloon keeper in order to make his ends 
meet and save his $1,100 profit. This amount 
must come out of the drinkers' pockets, and 
largely from the working class, and the poli- 
ticians, the taxpayers and church people have 
to pay all the expense from crime and disor- 
derly conduct growing out of the business. 
Yet the church voter goes to the polls wath the 
saloon keeper and rum drinker, and votes the 
same ticket and with the same party men that 



grant these licenses, while they continue to 
praj for reform, and say to the honest temper- 
ance man, '^ I am as good a temperance man 
as you are, but — " That " but " may shut the 
doors of heaven against such inconsistencies. 



This world is full of professions, and thou- 
sands are building their hope of salvation upon 
an old hope of profession that they made when 
they were young. Profession will never save 
a soul from death. It is possession and the life 
that is lived within and without that saves. 
The practical, everyday life counts. Without 
that you are without hope and without God in 
the world, and no man can give a real reason 
for his hope. 

There are thousands that have made a pro- 
fession in their early days, and perhaps their 
name is on the roll of the church book, and 
possibly have not attended a Sabbath school or 
prayer meeting of the church in ten years, or 
paid a dollar for the benefit of the church dur- 
ing the ten years. A person might have his 
name on a dozen church rolls, but that will not 
save him. I know of men that belong to a 
half dozen secret or other societies and the 
church, and yet show no Christianity in their 
character. Christian is that Christian does. 
If he has Christianity within, it will show itself 



without. What is pure and undefiled religion? 
— It is to visit the fatherless and the widow, 
and to keep yourself unspotted from the world. 
The real Christian w^ill be looking for some- 
thing that he can do for the poor, sick, and 
afflicted, and will endeavor to bring sinners to 
repentance, and to real faith in the Saviour 
Jesus Christ. 

When the disciples found Christ, thej were 
anxious to tell it to their friends and brothers, 
and invited them to come and see. That is the 
nature of Christ's religion. The world is full 
of religions, but not of Christ's, and yet they 
have a sort of hope. In Plainfield, N. J., we 
have some three hundred organizations, and 
some men belong to a half score of them, and 
call that their religion. They might belong to 
one hundred; but that would not save them. 
It is the person that lives riglit that will be 
saved. There are thousands of people on the 
church roll that you would never think of 
as church members without looking over the 
record. They may attend now and then some 
church festival, soiree, or grabbag sociable 
where they have a good supper, euchre parties, 
and a jolly good time. 

The churches have fallen into this somewhat 
in order to call out this class of membership 


when they which to raise a little money for 
some purpose. But it is not common for 
revivals to follow such gatherings, and I heard 
a minister say publicly that the churches of 
nearly all denominations had so far departed 
from the original plan that the ministry did not 
average only about two converts annually. If 
that be true, where is the hope of the church? 



This statement is wisely stated, as no man 
of intelligence would make such a statement, 
after having lived in this world any great 
length of time, and having seen the things that 
exist, and observed the revolutions of the earth, 
and how it moves in immensity of space in that 
regularity that its motion is such that it attracts 
everything toward the center of the earth, to 
that extent of power that its motion holds us 
and all creation from slipping off into immen- 
sity of space. Then all growth has its order, 
the tree grows upward, while its roots grow 
downward; so that the roots draw life from 
below, while the tree draws sustenance from 
the atmosphere above. Everything created 
seems to be surrounded with its necessities, so 
that everything lives and acts in and of itself 
without dependence upon anything else. 

Man, it is said, was created in the image of 

God; but if there is no God, nor word of God, 

then what we call man can not be anything 

more than a mere animal; and if all things 


■, ►"^^'/A'-.- 

The Children of a deceased sister, Lavinna P. Lau- 
phear Willard, wife of D. C. Willard, all grown 
up now. 

THE fool's saying 451 

came by chance, then there might chance to be 
mistakes, and the chance man may as well be 
called a mule or fool instead of a man. 

I ask the fool man that says there is no God, 
if he knows that he has a brain, and that that 
brain controls his thoughts; also if he can tell 
us from what comes the power that causes him 
to walk, or use his hands? No man can move 
without a power behind him. How could one 
but a God create thought and action combined 
80 as to act together ? Can man or angels do 
this ? How does man's thoughts go and come, 
only by the power of God ? Let God withdraw 
his power from man, and what is he but apiece 
of clay ? 

" What is man, that thou art mindful of him ? 
and the son of man, that thou visitest him ? " 
If there is no God, there is no hope for man 
but to lie down and die like the beast of the 
forest, without hope in the future. 



In a life of eighty-two years I have observed 
many professions among men, and nearly all 
persons that believe the Bible to be God's word 
read and search to find something to support 
their belief and practice. They do not search 
the Scripture so much to find out whether their 
faith and practice are wrong, but to find some- 
thing to prove that they and their church are 
right. This is probably the cause of so many 
denominations in the world,, and so nmch con- 
tention over the doctrine of the Bible; and 
possibly the cause of so much high and low 
criticisms on the Bible. 

Some men believe that all men will be saved, 
regardless of what their lives have been; others 
that men will be punished according to their 
deeds, then saved; others that men are punished 
in this life for all their deeds, and at death 
their souls are saved. Infidels do not believe 
in any judgment, but that men die as animals 
do, and that is their end. The atheist, or fool, 
says there is no God; he has no arguments, as 


he does not believe in any man or God that 
knows any more than himself, and consequently 
is not much else than an automaton, or self- 
moving machine, that lacks knowledge of him- 
self, or of anything else. 

All these differences of opinion can never 
change God or his word; for he was in the 
beginning and he will be in the ending, of all 
things in this world, from everlasting to ever- 
lasting, without end. He is the same yester- 
day, to-day, and forever, '^ Alpha and Omega, 
the beginning and the end.'' As to his word, 
listen: '^ Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or 
one tittle shall in nowise pass from the law, 
till all be fulfilled." Matt. 5: 18. "Heaven 
and earth shall pass away, but my word shall 
not pass away." Matt. 24 : 35. God and his 
word are unchangeable. If there is any mis- 
take in the Bible, it is not of God, but has 
been placed there by translators or false theo- 
logians, and doubtless from selfish ends. He 
that addeth to or taketh away from God's 
Word, shall receive the penalty thereof. God 
will be just with all men. 



If this advice was more adhered to, much 
less sorrow and crime would come to maukind 
in this world. Mankind do not usually begin 
at first with great evils, but yield first to some 
trivial evil, that most people would scarcely 
stop to notice. But when a person yields to 
some little foolish thing, it opens the door of 
sin; and when once started in the wrong road, 
little by little his conscience gets seared, and if 
he does not stop and right about face, he may 
become a thief or a murderer. Great oaks from 
little acorns grow. A person does not usually 
start as a drunkard, or expect to become such 
by the first drink; but one starting wrong is 
liable to end wrong. Thus the necessity of 
abstaining from the first drink. The yielding 
of a child to the temptation to take some small 
thing that does not belong to him, if not 
checked in the bud, may lead to the worst kind 
of thievery. Thus parents should watch and 
guard their children. ''As the twig is bent, 
the tree is inclined." I have known parents 
that passed for good neighbors, who seemed to 


hold no restraint over their children; never go 
to church or train their children to go; spend 
the Sabbath day fishing, hunting, or wandering 
about the woods after nuts, etc., or make the 
Sabbath a day for visiting. You speak to such 
a person about his children running so loosely 
and wild, and he may say they must sow their 
wild oats. I have observed that such children 
often sow to the wind and reap the whirl- 
wind, and the parents are left in sorrow to 
mourn over a wayward son or daughter that 
has gone to wreck in character, and fetched up 
in jail or prison. I have known a man and his 
sons to become drunkards on hard cider. They 
raised their own apples, and made their own 
cider, and would keep it in the cellar the year 
round, and never realized that it had become 
hard enough to make them drunken; and I 
heard the wife and mother say that she had 
rather not an apple should grow on the farm 
on account of what usually followed. Her 
husband, toward the close of his life, kept 
drunk nearly all the time, whicli made it very 
unpleasant for her and her family. If you 
would be wise, ''abstain from every appear- 
ance of evil." 



To sign a pledge against the use of strong 
drink is a good thing to do, for old or joung. 
But many refuse to do it, and say, "I can 
drink or let it alone. I never drink enough to 
do me any harm.'' But I have known many a 
person of this kind that got to that pass that 
he did not let it alone, and finally died with 
delerium tremens; and I must say that such a 
death seems the next thing in suffering to that 
of a person who has been bitten by a rabid dog, 
and possibly worse, for it lasts longer before 
death comes. Suppose a man can govern him- 
self so as not to become a perfect sot, what is 
his example to those around him that have not 
that firmness that he has ? If he attempts to 
follow your example, and falls out by the way 
as a drunkard, and is shut out of the kingdom 
of heaven, can your conscience be clear before 
God and your neighbors? Had you signed the 
pledge you might have saved that man, and 
possibly others of your neighbors. A man of 
such will power carries a wonderful influence 
in a community either for evil or good. "He 
which converteth the sinner from the error of 


his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall 
hide a multitude of sins." 

A man that signs a pledge that he will not 
use strong drink, does not harm himself. It 
may cause others to do the same, and possibly 
save his own soul. His pledge is his honor that 
he will not use it; and when temptation comes, 
this pledge of his honor is before him, and if 
he thinks anything of his honor he will refrain. 
It helps the man as does profession of Christ's 
religion by baptism. Your baptism is a pledge 
before the world that in the future you will 
endeavor to live a Chistlike life. When temp- 
tation comes, you will likely remember the 
pledge you made before the world, and if you 
have any regard for your honor before the 
world, it will be a help to you in overcoming 

Some men say, " I am not going to sign away 
my liberties." You have liberty to sign away 
all evil that presents itself to you or your 
neighbors. You have no right to do a thing 
that may cause your neighbor or yourself to 
stumble. You may say, "Am I my brother's 
keeper ? " I say, yes, so far as you are able to 
keep him from danger. 





In mj life of eighty-two years I have seen 
many young people start out in life: some have 
started wrong, and some have started right; 
but three fourths of them are dead and gone 
now. Many of them started wrong. They 
decided to have a good time by sowing their 
wild oats, thinking that some time they would 
reform in time to save their souls from death; 
but before that time came the seed that they 
had sown had brought them to a drunkard's 
grave. Others had become tired of home and 
being dictated to by parents, and had asked 
their father to give them their share, and let 
them go into the world for themselves. The 
father getting tired of his son's uneasiness and 
dissatisfaction with home life, fits him out; and 
while his mother is weeping, he starts off with 
his traveling bag for a good time with the cow- 
boys in the Western world, or some other place 
where he can find companions of wild and jovial 
character in sowing wild oats. 


But time wears away, and his substance is 
gone; and now, like the prodigal, he hungers, 
and is compelled to eat of the pods the swine 
did eat. But he is too proud to return as did 
the prodigal, and is left to become a tramp and 
a vagabond. Most of such class come, first by 
disobedience to parents; and I know of young 
men now in New Jersey that are paying the 
penalty of crime in prison for disobedience to 
parents, and running away from a good home. 
My experience in knowing such cases has been 
quite large, as when I was overseer of the poor 
in our city I had the charge of our station 
house. At that time our city was quite benevo- 
lent toward the tramps, and would allow them 
to stop overnight in the station house, and in 
the morning give them a half loaf of bread. 
The tramps seemed to understand our benevo- 
lence, and when a cold storm came on, they 
would pull for Plainfield. Once the storm 
became very severe, and when it was time to 
close doors, eighty tramps were on file. The 
next morning the weather was so severe that it 
was thought best not to turn them out that day. 
We kept a good fire, and plenty of water was 
at hand, and they took this opportunity to wash 
up, etc. They went out and begged or pur- 
chased meat, eggs, and other eatables, and 


cooked them on the stove, and enjoyed the day 
the best they could. 

This gave me an opportunity to learn the cause 
of their becoming tramps. Almost invariably 
it came first from disobedience to parents, and 
then falling into bad company. Often they 
would say, " My parents had a good home, and 
I know I would be welcome back again; but 
when I left home I was well dressed, and now 
my clothing is dirty and ragged, and I am 
ashamed to go home." So they stay away, 
and resort to every kind of life to keep soul 
and body together. One told me that he ran 
away when young. " If I had remained at home, 
my father would doubtless have set me up in 
business, or have given me a farm; but now 
probably I will get nothing, as I am looked 
upon as a vagabond and spendthrift." How 
many thousands we have tramping about in 
the world, — all from disobedience to begin 
with. If you started wrong, better return as 
did the prodigal, and ask forgiveness, and possi- 
bly you may be redeemed, and your soul be 
saved. Try it. 

Many of our girls and young women are on 
the road to destruction from the same source, 
and thousands of mothers are weeping to-day 
over their disobedient daughters. It seems 


necessary sometimes for girls to leave home as 
servants to help support themselves and parents, 
but when they get away from under mother's 
teaching, they fall in with other servants, and 
think they can do as they please, and forget 
home instruction. They fall in with bad asso- 
ciates, become night walkers, associate with 
bad young men, become bad characters them- 
selves, and finally fetch up in the houses of ill- 
fame. Of such there are many found in and 
around our large cities. 

Parents should watch their daughters, and 
know of the company they keep. Bad young 
men are very deceptive, and young women are 
likely to be deceived, and drawn into a trap 
unawares. Parents should look well to the 
reading matter of their girls. Bad pamphlets 
and wicked reading matter have brought many 
a girl to ruin, when a closer watch over them 
by the parents might have saved them from dis- 
grace and shame. 

Parents and guardians, save your sons and 
daughters from night walking and club houses. 
Children, obey your parents, and become a 
blessing to them and a blessing to the world 
you live in, and thus be prepared for the bless- 
ings prepared for the righteous in the world to 



It may seem strange that a man should write 
up his own life. Of course no one would like 
to expose all the wicked things he has done in 
a life of eighty-two years. That is not neces- 
sary; for no man, but one, in this world, has 
lived without sin, and he was the God-man. 
" He that says he is without sin is a liar," says 
the Word. Every man alike needs a Saviour. 
I was brought up to believe that my mother 
was an exemplary woman, and the mother 
largely establishes the character of her chil- 
dren. My mother always taught her children 
that it was wicked to use profane language, 
and so impressed it on my mind that I do not 
remember of taking the name of God in vain 
but twice in my life, and for that she dealt with 
me in such a way that I never forgot it. She 
used to warn us boys, when going away from 
home, to be careful of what company we kept. 

My father was a church man, but not so 
strict in teaching the children, but loved his 
children dearly. My mother many a time took 
me by the hand and led me to the church, fol- 



Standing in the front entrance to their home, he as he came from 
his writing deslc. 


lowing footpaths and marked trees through 
the woods. When I was nine years old, she 
took me with her through the woods a mile and 
a half to a schoolhouse where Dr. John Collins 
was to give a lecture against drinking strong 
drink, and where he offered a pledge for all, 
old and young, to sign. There I signed that 
pledge for life, and have not drunk a glass to 
this day. That pledge always came into mind 
when the temptation to drink was offered. I 
was always proud of that pledge. 

When I was nineteen years of age, I made a 
profession of religion, and was baptized, and 
thus said to the church and the world that I 
would try to live a Christian life. From that 
time I have ever studied to know the right side 
of every moral and religious question. I was 
an early abolitionist when it was an unpopular 
position to take, and my home was a resting- 
place for many a poor slave that was endeavor- 
ing to find freedom. I harbored Frederick 
Douglass when a slave; also a man by the 
name of Logan, who became a bishop in the 
Methodist Church, and the pastor of a large 
colored church in Syracuse, N. Y. , after he was 
liberated from slavery; also the two Harris 
brothers, represented in Mrs. Stowe's book, 
" Uncle Tom's Cabin " ; and many others while 


the fugitive slave law was in force, and before 
the proclamation of freedom by Abraham Lin- 
coln. I ever intended to stand by what I 
believed to be God's will and for the good of 
our fellowmen. I believed it was my duty to 
obey God rather than man, and never to sur- 
render a principle in the church or out for the 
sake of peace and popularity. 

I always believed in paying dollar for dollar 
in my dealings with men, and I never took 
stock in any bankrupt laws for the use of poli- 
ticians and bankrupts, in the church or out of 
it. I ever believed in economy, and not to 
spend money before it was earned, but to help 
the poor and every benevolent institution as 
God has prospered me, and to treat every man 
as an honest man until he has proved himself 
to the contrary, and even then feed him and 
pray for him, even if he is my enemy. I do 
not owe any man a dollar to this day, to my 

I believe in man's freedom everywhere, as 
long as he does not interfere with other men's 
rights, and a free religion to every man accord- 
ing to his own conscience. I believe that pure 
and undefiled religion should be exempt from 
all State and national interference, which exists 
solely to protect every citizen in his religious 


and civil rights. Religion is for every man to 
settle for himself with his God. 

Thus far in life I have had no man strike me 
with a view to injure me. I believe in living 
peaceably with all men as much as within me 
lies; and as long as any man controls himself 
there is not much danger of getting hurt. 

I never have had an opportunity for high 
school education. I well remember my first 
school days in a log schoolhouse, when I sat on 
a little stool by the side of the school teacher. 
Her name was Thankful Odall. The benches 
were made of split basswood logs, fiat side up, 
with stool legs. Writing tables were slabs 
fastened to pegs driven into the logs. I studied 
spelling and reading, writing, and also a little 
in geography, but never studied a day in gram- 
mar in my life. Yet I have written for over 
sixty periodicals, and have now over fifteen 
hundred printed articles in my scrap books. 
When I wrote my two former books, I had no 
idea of writing this. The readers of the former 
books will find some repetition io this one, in 
order to connect circumstances in this. This is 
probably my last writing, as I have now passed 
the usual age allotted to men. 

1 Of\ry