iiiij
 
 Illinois in the Fifties
 
 ' 
 
 Lincoln in the Fifties. 
 (From historical collection of H. W. Fay, DeKalb, 111.)
 
 Illinois in the Fifties 
 
 OR 
 
 A Decade of Development 
 
 1851 - 1860! 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES BENEULYN JOHNSON, M. D. 
 Author of Muskets and Medicine 
 
 Illinois Centennial Edition 
 
 There are no days like the good old days, 
 
 The days when we were youthful; 
 When humankind was pure of mind, 
 
 And speech and deeds were truthful. 
 
 Eugene Field. 
 
 Flanigan-Pearson Co., Publishers 
 
 Champaign, 111. 
 
 1918
 
 COPYRIGHT 1918 
 
 BY 
 CHABLES B. JOHNSON
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 THAT DEVOTED BAND OF ILLINOISANS, 
 
 WHO IN THE FIFTIES, 
 
 UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 
 STEADFASTLY OPPOSED THE FURTHER EXTENSION 
 
 OF HUMAN SLAVERY, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR.
 
 There were Giants in Those Days.
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 One hundred years ago Illinois became a State and 
 began making history. In that history no period 
 is of more interest and importance than the Fifties, 
 which in the fullest sense was a decade of devel- 
 opment. During that decade in wealth and population 
 the State advanced from eleventh to fourth place among 
 her sister commonwealths. Meantime railway construc- 
 tion increased more than tenfold and finally the total 
 mileage in operation in Illinois was exceeded by Ohio 
 alone. Iii 1860 the Prairie State distanced all rivals 
 in the production of corn, wheat and oats. 
 
 But beyond and above all this in that remarkable 
 decade Illinois became the arena upon which was staged 
 one of the world's great forensic contests the Lincoln- 
 Douglas debate of 1858. 
 
 In this volume the author has endeavored to describe 
 things, people and conditions as he saw and knew them 
 in the Fifties. 
 
 CHAMPAIGN, ILLINOIS, 1918. C. B. J.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE PlONEEB AND HIS ENVIRONMENT 11- 26 
 
 II. A PROGRESSIVE PIONEER AND THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 A HOME __ _ 27- 35 
 
 III. THE GOLD SEEKERS OF THE LATE FORTIES 36- 48 
 
 IV. THE STAGE-DRIVER, STAGE-COACH, STAGE-HAND 
 
 AND AN ORIGINAL DR. JEKYL AND MR. HYDE. 49- 57 
 
 V. A COUNTRY STORE IN THE FIFTIES 58-""67 
 
 VI. CHURCHES, CHURCH PEOPLE AND PREACHERS IN 
 
 THE FIFTIES 68- 75 
 
 VII. SPORTS, AMUSEMENTS AND SOME OTHER THINGS 76- 84 
 
 VIII. THE VILLAGE LYCEUM AND SOME LOCAL PETTI- 
 FOGGERS 85- 89 
 
 IX. AN OLD-TIME WATER-MILL 90- 96 
 
 X. SCHOOLS, SCHOLARS AND TEACHERS 97-107 
 
 XI. IN AND ABOUT AN ILLINOIS CORNFIELD IN THE 
 
 FIFTIES 108-116 
 
 XII. BOOKS, PERIODICALS AND OTHER READING MAT- 
 TER IN THE FIFTIES 117-122 
 
 XIII. THE VILLAGE DOCTORS 123-134 
 
 XIV. RAILROADS AND OTHER METHODS OF TRAVEL AND 
 
 TRANSPORTATION 135-141 
 
 XV. ELECTIONS, PARTIES AND POLITICS 142-148 
 
 XVI. SLAVERY AND THE LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATE 149-175
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Lincoln in the Fifties Frontispiece 
 
 Weaving on a Hand-Loom 16 
 
 Old-Time Spinning Wheel 16 
 
 Type of Log House Common in the Early Fifties 26 
 
 Pioneer Fireplace, Cooking Utensils, Etcetera 26 
 
 Franklin House (Stage-Stand), Greenville, 111 50 
 
 Stage-Coach 50 
 
 An Up-to-date Church in the Mid-Fifties 68 
 
 Visit to the Hive 74 
 
 Brown's Mill 90 
 
 Pioneer Log School House 98 
 
 Slab-Seat Used in Pioneer Schools 98 
 
 Pocahontas School House ("Academy") 104 
 
 Prairie-Plow 116 
 
 Iron Kettle, Ash-Hopper, Etcetera 116 
 
 A Mid-Nineteenth Century Ideal Milk-Maid 130 
 
 Grain-Cradles, Reap-Hook, Etcetera 140 
 
 Early McCormick Reaper and Mower . 140 
 
 Type of Frame House Common in the Late 50's 148 
 
 Bedstead, Trundlebed and Other Articles of Utility 148 
 
 Senator Stephen A. Douglas 162
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE PIONEER AND His ENVIRONMENT. 
 
 No past is dead to us, but only sleeping. 
 
 Helen Hunt. 
 
 Wondrous and awful are thy silent halls, 
 O kingdom of the past ! 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 With the advent of the early fifties the real pioneer 
 days in Illinois were nearing their end. The one-room 
 log cabin was giving place to the frameMwelling of one, 
 two, or more rooms. The water-mill had nearly, or 
 quite, displaced the last horse-mill. 
 
 The slow, but always dependable, ox-team and heavy 
 ox wagon, were fast disappearing before the approach 
 of the quicker moving horse-team and lighter horse 
 wagon. The wooden mold-board plow was being rele- 
 gated to fence corners, and in its place was a much lighter 
 and more sightly implement made largely of iron and 
 steel. 
 
 In lieu of the hoe, which many had used for the cul- 
 tivation of growing corn, a bright, well-scoured "dia- 
 mond-plow", drawn by a quick-stepping horse, jnade 
 relatively rapid and easy work. In place of the reap- 
 hook and "cradle" for cutting grain, and the scythe for 
 mowing grass, a combined reaper and* mower did the 
 work of ten men. 
 
 Perhaps a brief description of the cabin which the 
 frame house was rapidly displacing may interest the 
 reader who today lives in the modern home with its 
 
 (ID
 
 12 Crude but Useful 
 
 steam-heat, electric lights and a thousand and one con- 
 veniences which money and inventive genius have 
 brought within the reach of the average American. 
 
 The pioneer's heat-plant was simple in the extreme, 
 though its fireplace and hearth made of flat stones oc- 
 cupied a no inconsiderable portion of one end of his 
 one-room cabin. The chimney was jnade of split sticks 
 of wood and clay and ran up on the outside of one 
 end of the building. The clay was first made into a 
 kind of mortar, and with this the sticks were freely plas- 
 tered. The fireplace was so large that backlogs for it 
 had to be rolled in at the door, instead of being carried 
 in by hand. The forestick and other pieces of wood 
 rested on "dog-irons" and were thus kept about four 
 inches above the hearth level. 
 
 At one side of the fireplace, on pegs driven in the 
 logs, hung pots, kettles, skillets, pans and various other 
 utensils used by the good housewife in cooking. There, 
 also, stood the cupboard made of smoothly dressed wal- 
 nut boards, and which contained knives, forks, spoons 
 and the blue-edged dishes which adorned the table at 
 meal time. In the corner w r as a rude shelf resting on 
 oak pegs, and upon this was a wooden bucket filled with 
 water for drinking and cooking purposes. Hanging on 
 a peg beside the water bucket was a gourd, the pioneer's 
 drinking vessel. Next came the dining-table, with both 
 leaves folded down, standing snugly against the wall out 
 of the way. 
 
 On the other side of the fireplace, six feet from the 
 floor, just beneath the ceiling and resting on wooden 
 hooks, was the long-barreled, flint-lock, Kentucky squir- 
 rel rifle. The stock ran the whole length of the barrel, 
 was made of white walnut and from much use, added
 
 The Pioneer's Rifle 13 
 
 to the polishing of the gunsmith, had become as smooth 
 as ivory. The mounting was all of well-finished brass. 
 Near the butt of the stock and sunk in it, was a cavity 
 one inch in width, one inch deep and five inches in 
 length, covered with a brass lid which opened by one 
 spring and was held in place by another. It was used 
 for carrying tallow with which to lubricate the "patchen" 
 that was made to cover the bullet when loading the rifle. 
 Hanging from one of the hooks on which the gun rested, 
 was the bullet pouch and powder horn. The pouch was 
 made of strong leather, usually buckskin, and had two 
 or three pockets for carrying bullets, cloth for patchen 
 and such other articles as a hunter might need. 
 The powder horn was made from a cow's horn and 
 had the larger end securely closed; in the smaller end 
 was fitted a stopper that could be easily removed and 
 put back in place. Both the bullet pouch and powder 
 horn were supplied with straps 'for throwing over the 
 shoulder when it was desired to carry them. Hanging 
 from the other wooden hook was a large horn open at 
 both ends, but with the smaller of these smoothed and 
 beveled so it could be placed to the lips for the purpose 
 of blowing. This the hunter used to call the hounds 
 when they went beyond the sound of his voice. 
 
 Leaning against the wall in the corner under the butt 
 of the rifle was a double-barreled shotgun, from the 
 muzzle of which hung a powder-horn and shot-pouch; 
 the latter containing supplies of shot of various sizes 
 and also a box of percussion caps. The shotgun and 
 its equipment were more especially for the boys in the 
 family, pater familias preferring the rifle. Against the 
 wall near the shotgun was a candle-stand, a little table 
 with a top about two feet square, under this a drawer,
 
 14 Bed Furnishings 
 
 all supported on slender, turned legs and ,made of wal- 
 nut. On the candle-stand was a large Bible and a "this- 
 year's" Almanac. Above the candle-stand was the one 
 window in the cabin, which contained six 6 x 6 panes 
 of glass. 
 
 A little distance from the window was a door which 
 swung on wooden hinges, fastened with a wooden latch, 
 and raised and lowered by a strong leather string, which 
 passed through a hole and left the free end hanging 
 outside. Of nights when the pioneer wished to lock 
 his door, he had but to pull in the string; when morn- 
 ing came and he desired to unlock his door, he had but 
 to pass the string through the hole just above the latch. 
 Hence the origin of the pioneer phrase, "The latch- 
 string is on the outside" the equivalent of saying: 
 "Come in; you are welcome!" 
 
 In the corner behind the door was a bed upon which 
 was a huge feather tick and over which were the usual 
 sheets and blankets; but over all a beautiful, home- 
 woven counterpane, usually blue and white, but fre- 
 quently pure white. In the opposite corner was an- 
 other bed, the precise duplicate of the first, and on 
 both were two large pillows in cases or slips, with beau- 
 tifully-wrought and embroidered edges. Under one of 
 the beds would often be a trundlebed, which ran on 
 rollers. When bedtime came the trundlebed was rolled 
 out for the small children to sleep in; and in the morn- 
 ing rolled back under the bed, out of- sight and out of 
 the way. Around the exposed sides of the bed would 
 be a valance, or a kind of curtain, which reached from 
 just above the bedrail to the floor. Sometimes the val- 
 ance was made of white muslin and sometimes of some 
 colored material. In the event there was no trundle-
 
 The "Chist" 15 
 
 bed the space under the bed was always utilized for stor- 
 ing some article or articles. It may have been a trunk, 
 a basket of peaches, or in cold weather, maybe the half 
 of a just-butchered hog might be put there to be kept 
 over night. 
 
 Against the wall between the beds was a chest, often 
 called "chist". In this was kept the nicer counterpanes 
 and pillowslips, the women's Sunday clothes and certain 
 articles of men's wear. At one end of the chest, and just 
 beneath the lid, was a little box or till, opening with a 
 lock and key, and in this were kept the deeds and other 
 valuable papers and smaller keepsakes. 
 
 In the better cabins the floors were made of evenly- 
 sawed oak boards, but as these became seasoned they 
 grew narrower and left cracks between, through which 
 the cold wind came in winter. In the ruder cabins the 
 floors were made of puncheons that is to say, slabs 
 flat on one side and rounded on the other. Puncheon 
 floors were always laid with the flat side up. Overhead 
 were strong heavy beams often of unhewed logs. On 
 these beams were rough boards that constituted the ceil- 
 ing of the main room and the floor of the loft, which 
 by courtesy might have been called the attic. The loft 
 was reached by a ladder that started from the cabin- 
 floor and ran up alongside the Kentucky rifle, and 
 reached the loft through a trapdoor. In the loft was 
 sometimes a bed where some members of the family could 
 sleep in case there was company and here of winter 
 mornings the sleepers would sometimes waken to find 
 their beds covered with snow that had sifted in between 
 the shingles, or rather clapboards, of the roof. 
 
 Hanging from the rafters would be festoons of dried 
 apples, dried pumpkin, dried peaches, peppers, bunches
 
 Weaving, Spinning and Carding 
 
 of sage for seasoning the sausage; bunches of penny- 
 royal to "sweat" the sick ones; bunches of boneset to 
 "break the ager"; strings of stuffed sausage; chunks of 
 dried beef; and last, old hats, caps and various other 
 articles that had seen better days. Among the last might 
 be the coat that grandfather, a Revolutionary veteran, 
 wore at the battle of Guilford Court House. 
 
 Crowded as was the cabin, it at times had one more 
 thing that took up no little floor-space, namely, a loom 
 for weaving cloth, carpets, etc. The loom of that day 
 was a crude, heavy, awkwardly constructed contrivance, 
 made almost entirely of wood. But, cumbersome and 
 unwieldy as it was, the housewife somehow managed to 
 weave in plenty upon it, jeans for the men- folks of the 
 family, and linsey for the women-folks. Indeed, some of 
 the more skillful, wove pretty coverlets, handsome coun- 
 terpanes and beautiful pillowcases, besides other articles 
 of use and ornament. 
 
 Another thing that claimed cabin floor-space was the 
 spinning-wheel, a true running-mate of the loom. This 
 was usually operated by a young woman, and her quick 
 walking to-and-fro and other alert movements, accom- 
 panied by the rhythmical hum of the fast-revolving 
 wheel, are memories that will never pass from the mind 
 of the elderly man or woman. 
 
 But before the wool could be spun it had to be carded ; 
 an operation that was generally left to an elderly female 
 if there was such a one in the family. And a picture, 
 which can never be effaced from memory's tablet, is 
 that of a grandmother, her placid features framed in the 
 frill of her cap, seated in a low, split-bottom chair, and 
 in her hand a pair of cards which she was slowly pull-
 
 Weaving on a Hand-Loom. 
 (Courtesy of W. A. Kelsoe, St. Louis, Mo.) 
 
 Spinning-Wheel. 
 (Courtesy W. A. Kelsoe, St. Louis, Mo.
 
 Plain but Wholesome 17 
 
 ing to-and-fro while the wool between their teeth was 
 working into a roll. 
 
 Speaking of caps, in this connection, it may not be out 
 of place to say that in that day most women of forty- 
 five and beyond wore these; they were usually white in 
 color, made of some light cotton material and faced with 
 a frill of some kind of lace work. These caps came 
 down below the ears, were becoming, and grew more 
 and more so with advancing years. 
 
 Three times every day a meal was cooked on the 
 stone hearth and over the fireplace. Three times every 
 day the table would be pulled out in front of the fire- 
 place, the leaves raised, a cloth spread over it, and the 
 blue-edged dishes placed upon it in proper order. One 
 of the most useful cooking utensils was the "spider", a 
 skillet with legs and a heavy iron cover the outer edge 
 of which was turned up to hold the red coals that were 
 put upon it in baking. In the center of the rounded top 
 of the lid and part of it, was an open handle, a sort of 
 flattened ring of cast iron into which the poker, or one 
 prong of the tongs, could be pushed for lifting the lid 
 when it was hot, or loaded with coals. Under the spi- 
 der, and between its legs, red coals would be thrust when 
 cooking or baking some article, such as biscuit, bread, 
 pies, cake, potatoes, etc. The tea-kettle was heated di- 
 rectly on the fire, the coffee-pot boiled on coals placed 
 on the hearth; meat, eggs, bacon and ham were fried 
 in a skillet placed on the burning wood-fire. In a much 
 larger spider, called an oven, light wheat-bread and light 
 corn-bread were baked. All old people were of one 
 mind in asserting that food cooked at the old-time fire- 
 place had a taste and flavor that the new-fangled cook- 
 stove could never impart.
 
 18 Before the Day of Matches 
 
 But stooping over the hearth, with her face and head 
 over the fire, was trying to the housekeeper. Then 
 sometimes a stick of wood would unexpectedly burn in 
 two, and over would turn the tea-kettle; or maybe 
 worse yet, a pot with contents for a boiled dinner; this 
 would result in water, or meat and turnips, spilling and 
 running over the fire and hearth, a cloud of steam and 
 smoke, and the fire all but "put out". 
 
 The fire shovel that stood against the chimney jamb 
 was a much, used implement. With it the housewife 
 punched the fire in an effort to encourage its burning; 
 and with it she put coals under, and on, the spider; and 
 on the hearth for heating other vessels. Beside the 
 shovel were the tongs provided with two long arms, with 
 flattened extremities, for picking up burning embers. 
 Hanging against the wall was a pair of pothooks for 
 lifting various hot or sooty vessels. 
 
 With the advent of the fifties, matches came into gen- 
 eral use. Previous to this the fire on the hearth was 
 never expected to go out. If it did, some one went to 
 a neighbor's with shovel or tongs and brought back some 
 live coals. 
 
 If the neighbor lived at a distance, or the weather 
 was inclement, some powder would be put in the pan 
 of the flint-lock rifle, a piece of cotton held beside it, 
 then, when trigger was pulled, a spark from the flint 
 ignited the powder; it in turn set fire to the cotton, and 
 this while blazing, was hurriedly transferred to paper 
 in the fireplace where a little later a fire would be 
 roaring. 
 
 The food was plain and simple. In pioneer days 
 corn bread and salted, smoked pork were the staples. 
 Later wheat bread was added, varied with cakes made
 
 The Simple Life 19 
 
 from buckwheat flour. Coffee of mornings, and tea at 
 night, were for the older members of the family. The 
 younger members drank water and milk, and with the 
 latter, all frequently ate corn mush. In winter selected 
 kernels of corn were treated with lye which removed 
 the hull, after which the grains were boiled or fried. 
 This was "big hominy" and was a wholesome, satisfy- 
 ing article of diet. A few paces from the kitchen door 
 was the smokehouse, a roughly constructed building, 
 without ceiling or plaster. It was in this that the newly 
 salted pork was hung to be smoked by keeping under it 
 a smothered fire, preferably of hickory wood. Hams 
 cured in this way had a rare flavor no other curing 
 process could impart. On shelves in the smokehouse 
 thrifty housekeepers had jars of lard and others of pre- 
 serves, pickles and, maybe, a keg of molasses, together 
 with a barrel of flour and possibly a sack of sugar, and 
 other et cetera. 
 
 With the coming of early frost one neighbor would 
 kill a hog and divide it up among his friends. Perhaps 
 a little later another would butcher a small beef and 
 divide this up in the same way, all "without money and 
 without price." Thus the circle had a taste of fresh 
 meat which otherwise would have spoiled, as no one 
 thought of putting up ice. 
 
 Almost no one had a cellar, and with the open method 
 in vogue for building houses, in cold weather, when the 
 fire went down, things would freeze. Of cold nights 
 water pitchers and other fragile articles were emptied 
 of their liquid contents, otherwise broken vessels were 
 likely to be found next morning. 
 
 Apples and peaches were pared, cut into slices and 
 spread on boards, or on low sheds, where they would
 
 20 Some Wild Fruits 
 
 dry in the sun after several days' exposure. Thus placed 
 they attracted and were, at times, covered with flies, 
 wasps and other insects. Fortunately, fruit dried in this 
 way, through stewing, or some similar method of cook- 
 ing, was, practically, always heated to a high tempera- 
 ture before going on the table. Pumpkins were not in- 
 frequently peeled, sliced and dried and when winter 
 came, eaten with relish. 
 
 The present method of canning fruit and vegetables 
 did not come in vogue till about the middle of the fifties ; 
 and when first introduced was a much more complicated 
 process than it is today. Lack of knowledge and facili- 
 ties for preserving fruit made the use of preserves much 
 more common than now, and in quantities that would 
 not be deemed justifiable today. 
 
 Wild blackberries grew in abundance and were of 
 much better flavor than the cultivated varieties we have 
 now. Wild raspberries were less abundant than wild 
 blackberries and the same was true of wild strawber- 
 ries, but both had an especially fine taste and flavor. 
 
 Wild plums, wild crabapples and wild grapes were 
 gathered in the fall, and of these the thrifty housewife 
 made preserves, jam and other toothsome preparations. 
 
 Wild grapes grew in two varieties, summer and win- 
 ter. Summer grapes ripened in late summer, were larger 
 and much sweeter than winter grapes. Indeed, the wild 
 summer grapes are said to be the stock from which that 
 staple, the Concord grape, was derived. Both varieties 
 flourished in the timber and their vines sometimes grew 
 to the tops of tall trees. Winter grapes were sour, but 
 after frost became much sweeter and more tempting to 
 the palate. 
 
 Another wild fruit that came in after frost was the
 
 Persimmons and the Tenderfoot 21 
 
 persimmon. This grew on a tree that equaled in size 
 a medium appletree. In late summer the persimmon 
 attained the dimensions of a small apple, was a rich, 
 beautiful orange in color and presented a most tempting 
 appearance to the uninitiated. But woe to the tender- 
 foot who was so unwary as to bite into its supposedly 
 luscious meat; for instead of the anticipated sweet and 
 agreeable taste, the tempted one would experience a 
 "puckery" sensation that seemed about to draw the mu- 
 cous membrane of his mouth and parts adjacent into 
 a hard knot ! After frost the persimmon took on a pink 
 hue and became mellow and luscious to the taste. Freez- 
 ing in some way neutralized the tannin with which be- 
 fore frost the fruit was rilled and rendered astringent 
 and puckery to the mouth and palate. 
 
 Pawpaws were another wild fruit that grew in the 
 timber and ripened in the fall, but unlike some referred 
 to above, seemed to prefer dense woods. This fruit, 
 however, was not relished by all, though much liked by 
 some. 
 
 Going to mill was nearly always done on horseback. 
 A sack of wheat or shelled corn would be put on a 
 horse with the grain divided so there would be an equal 
 amount in each end, and on this a boy would be mounted 
 and started for the water-mill, which was never more 
 than four or five miles away. Arrived there the miller 
 would take the sack in the mill and pour its contents 
 into the hopper, from which it ran in between the two 
 millstones, one of which, connected with a water wheel 
 in the stream beneath, revolved while the other was sta- 
 tionary. Both were sharply grooved properly to crush 
 and grind the grain that passed between them. For 
 his service the miller took toll, that is a certain percent-
 
 22 A Home Product 
 
 age of the grain, or as usually said in this sense, the 
 grist. (See pages 91-95.) 
 
 People made their own soap with lye and fat. The 
 lye was made by leaching wood ashes and the fat came 
 through the utilization of all kinds of meat scraps, some 
 of which were sometimes repulsive in both appearance 
 and smell. However, the strong lye with which the 
 scraps were mixed corrected all this. 
 
 To make lye from wood ashes an ash hopper was 
 necessary. This the pioneer sometimes made from a 
 section of a large hollow log which, with its two ends 
 sawed off square, was placed on inclined boards a little 
 above the ground. In the lower end notches would be 
 cut, and the "ash-hopper" thus made would be filled with 
 wood ashes, water would be poured upon this and in 
 percolating through would be converted into lye, a dark, 
 coffee-colored fluid which found its way out through 
 the notches in the bottom and down into a vessel under- 
 neath. This was the pioneer's ash-hopper. Sometimes 
 clapboards would be used and at others a common bar- 
 rel would be utilized by knocking out one head, boring 
 some holes through the bottom, placing on inclined 
 boards, and filling it with ashes. 
 
 When a sufficient amount of lye was obtained it was 
 put in the "big kittle", which was placed out of doors 
 and a fire kindled beneath it. When the lye began to 
 boil meat scraps were put in and all well stirred, and in 
 due time the contents assumed a putty-like consistency 
 and had in addition all the other qualities of soft soap, 
 a most useful article in the pioneer household. The 
 iron kettle was an essential in every family in early days 
 and fulfilled various uses, as we shall see later. 
 
 Most of the early settlers got their drinking water
 
 The "Waterwitch" 23 
 
 from springs. Those who came later dug wells, some 
 of which failed to afford the needed supply of water 
 for drinking, cooking and other purposes. After one 
 or two such disappointments the property owner would 
 sometimes call in the aid of the "waterwitch." The water- 
 witch was a man imbued with the belief that a forked 
 stick, called a divining rod, held in his hands, would be 
 drawn down by some mysterious force when over a vein 
 of water. For this purpose a forked piece of witch- 
 hazel was usually selected. With a prong of this tightly 
 grasped in each hand, his arms extended at full length, 
 the point of the fork pointing upwards, the waterwitch 
 would slowly and gravely walk over a spot where it 
 was desired to sink a well. 
 
 In the event water was found where the waterwitch 
 directed a well to be dug the fact was seized upon and 
 made much of and heralded abroad as proof of his pow- 
 ers of divination. On the other hand, if the sunken well 
 turned out to be a dry hole in the ground, this fact was 
 passed over and forgotten so charitable is ever human 
 nature, when the mysterious is on trial. 
 
 However, as to the divining rod, there were people 
 who affirmed that when this was properly held in the 
 hands of certain persons the point of the fork, or apex, 
 was forcibly drawn down if there happened to be a 
 vein of water in the ground beneath. 
 
 Very few of the early settlers had cisterns and rain 
 water was obtained by catching it in a barrel into which 
 the water from the eaves of the house was conveyed 
 by a long, slanting board. In warm weather, if this 
 rain-water was not used soon, it would come to be filled 
 with "wiggle-tails". 
 
 In that period people dressed much more plainly than
 
 24 Home-Spun Clothes 
 
 they do today and most of them literally wore out their 
 clothing. All working people and many others wore 
 patched garments. For every day many men wore jeans 
 and the women linsey; both home-woven and home- 
 spun from wool grown on the backs of home-grown 
 sheep. Winter and summer home-knit woolen socks 
 were worn. For coloring these home-made articles, cop- 
 peras (sulphate of iron), indigo, madder and various 
 barks, especially that of the whiteoak, were used. Un- 
 derclothes were not generally worn and many a boy of 
 two generations ago reached manhood before he got his 
 first overcoat. 
 
 On Sundays and special occasions most men dressed 
 up in their "store-clothes", which were far from being 
 as well-fitting and well-made as today. Furthermore 
 they were much more liable to fade after being worn 
 for a time. Few men wore "store" suspenders, and 
 working people all wore "galluses", home-knit from 
 woolen yarn, or made of strong cotton cloth. 
 
 Working men, for every-day wear, had what were 
 known as "hunting-shirts", made of jeans, cut loosely 
 and in length to reach to about the bottom of the pock- 
 ets of the trousers. In that day trousers were usually 
 called "breeches" and vests, "roundabouts". 
 
 An outer garment called a wammus was much worn 
 by men. It was made of wool, was ample in width and 
 had no skirt. It was held in place by a belt and had a 
 button at the throat. The space inside of it around the 
 body was so large as to serve its owner as a sack for 
 carrying prairie chickens or squirrels when he went 
 hunting. In fact it is reported to have done service 
 in carrying home green corn, apples, peaches and other
 
 Dearth of Time-Keepers 25 
 
 pleasant provender in the night. It was scarcely large 
 enough to carry watermelons. 
 
 As the fifties advanced professional and well-dressed 
 men wore shawls instead of overcoats. These were 
 large, made of thick, heavy woolen and were nearly al- 
 ways gray in color. Watches were very much less com- 
 mon than now; the teacher, the preacher and the doctor 
 always carried a watch, but scarcely anyone else. These 
 were nearly all of silver and a gold watch was seldom 
 seen. Likewise clocks were not nearly so common as 
 now, and working people were in the habit of referring 
 to so-many hours "by-sun" instead of saying it was this 
 or that hour by the clock. For illustration, in the event 
 it was thought it would be two hours before the sun 
 would go down, this was referred to as "two hours by- 
 sun", and the same way in the forenoon. 
 
 Boots came in fashion in the early fifties, but most 
 working men wore heavy shoes, called "brogans". Those 
 who made more pretensions to dress would go to the 
 village shoemaker and have tight-fitting boots made; so 
 tight, indeed, that they had to go through a process of 
 "breaking-in" which consisted of wearing them a few 
 hours and then resting the feet in an old pair. Every 
 house had its boot- jack for pulling off tight-fitting boots, 
 and those hard to get off from being water-soaked. 
 Rubber goods did not come into general use till the fif- 
 ties had well advanced, hence rubber boots and rubber 
 overshoes were seldom seen. When it was very muddy 
 and when the snow was melting, men and boys would 
 go all day with wet feet. It was sought to make leather 
 foot-wear water-proof by greasing this with a mixture 
 of beeswax and tallow, but while this helped it was only 
 partially effective.
 
 26 What a Hat Contained 
 
 As elsewhere stated, buggies were very few, and a 
 great deal of the travel was on horseback. In stormy 
 weather men wore heavy overcoats and "leggins" made 
 of strong, thick cloth, long enough to reach from the 
 knees to the heels, and wide enough to go once and a 
 half round the leg, to which they were attached by strong 
 cords. When the roads were muddy the leggings would 
 often become covered with mud and water, but when 
 removed the trousers beneath would be found dry and 
 clean. 
 
 It was the custom for men to carry papers in their 
 hats, so that a constable or other official when about to 
 serve a writ or summons would turn his head to one 
 side and carefully take off his hat, and search through 
 its contents for the desired instrument. In this connec- , 
 tion it is interesting to note that Lincoln in preparing 
 one of his great speeches made notes on scraps of paper 
 which he kept in his hat.
 
 Type of Log House common in Illinois in the Early 50's. 
 (A. C. McClurg and Co., by permission) 
 
 Pioneer Fireplace, Cooking Utensils, Etc. 
 (Loaned by O. W. Converse, Springfield, 111.)
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A PROGRESSIVE PIONEER AND THE EVOLUTION OF A 
 HOME. 
 
 Every beginning is hard ; but most the beginning of a 
 household. Many are human wants and everything daily grows 
 dearer. Goethe. 
 
 This was the way to thrive and he was blest. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 While in very young manhood Benjamin Jones, in 
 1816, came to the Territory of Illinois, where in due 
 time he built a cabin, married a young wife and began 
 life in earnest in the virgin Land of Promise. 
 
 With the lapse of time little Joneses had arrived, and 
 their presence made more room desirable, and the father, 
 ever ready to reach out and improve his surroundings, 
 built another cabin the size of the first and ten feet dis- 
 tant from it. The space between the cabins was floored, 
 and in warm weather served as a sort of porch and a 
 place for the dining table. Time went steadily on, and 
 other little Joneses came on the scene and created the need 
 for yet more room. This crying need caused Benjamin 
 Jones literally to "raise the roof" of both cabins, extend 
 this over the space between, and enclose it besides, thus 
 making, for that period, a commodious house of six 
 rooms. 
 
 In that era it was the custom of the pioneers to ac- 
 commodate the traveling public by giving them shelter 
 and food. Benjamin Jones fell into this way and kept 
 
 (27)
 
 28 Keeping Up With the Demand 
 
 it up till his patrons became too numerous for the ac- 
 commodations he had at their disposal. In this emer- 
 gency he added a dining-room and kitchen, with up- 
 stairs, to the rear of his house, and at the same time 
 remodeled the older part, by weatherboarding it, and 
 putting in modern doors, windows and brick chimneys. 
 Thus enlarged, the structure served its purpose for 
 many years. However, with the advent of the early 
 fifties the house was again remodeled and added to by 
 building, at its front, a large room on the main floor 
 and one above it on the second floor, with a porch on 
 either side. Blinds, which were just coming in use, 
 were put on all the windows and the house was given 
 a coat of paint, something of an innovation in that local- 
 ity. When completed the structure became one of the 
 itnost attractive dwellings in all the country around. This 
 house, whose first rooftree was reared nearly a hundred 
 years ago, is yet standing that is, the main part of it. 
 The last portion added the two rooms of frame in 
 front at the end of a half-century became dilapidated 
 and was removed, leaving the part first built of logs, in 
 seeming condition to weather the storms and winds of a 
 second century. 
 
 Benjamin Jones was as progressive and enterprising 
 in other matters as in improving and keeping his house 
 up to date. No sooner had the rank prairie grass been 
 turned under by the plow than he planted out apple, 
 peach, pear, and cherry trees. Meantime, sad to tell, he 
 chopped down some noble forest trees, that had the 
 hardihood and vitality to encroach on the ever-hardy 
 prairie grass, and planted in their places relatively insig- 
 nificant evergreens. Fortunately a few oaks and hicko- 
 ries were spared and today tower above and in every
 
 Always the Best 29 
 
 way overshadow the sickly pines and cedars planted 
 sixty years ago or more. 
 
 As already said, Benjamin Jones was progressive, and 
 consequently his fields were planted with the best corn, 
 the best wheat and the best oats that could be obtained. 
 On his pastures were seen the very best strains of cat- 
 tle and horses, and in winter these were well housed in 
 stables, while near-by barns were filled with well-cured 
 hay and plenty of corn and oats. 
 
 In a garden of ample size grew all kinds, and the latest 
 varieties, of vegetables. Asparagus and rhubarb, or pie- 
 plant, were then novelties; nevertheless, he cultivated 
 them in his always up-to-date garden. 
 
 But perhaps the pride of his heart was his orchard, 
 where always could be found the very latest varieties 
 of apples, pears, peaches, quinces, cherries and other 
 fruit. Insect pests were far less numerous in that day 
 than now and consequently fruit .matured without inter- 
 ruption or blemish. 
 
 In the orchard devoted to peaches were fine, large 
 Yellow Crawfords, and luscious White Crawfords. 
 There was also a variety known as the Indian Blood 
 peach, large as a teacup, blood red within and meat that 
 would "tempt the gods". 
 
 In the apple orchard the first fruit to ripen were the 
 "Junes", with coats smooth as though varnished, almost 
 black in color, meat as white as cotton, and that ripened 
 late in the month of June, as the name would imply. 
 
 Early in July came the Harvest Apple, yellow in color, 
 mellow when fully ripe, and sweet and attractive in 
 taste. In early fall the best eating apple of all was ready 
 for use. This was the Rambo, which had a rich taste 
 and rare flavor all its own an apple that had over its
 
 30 The Apple-Orchard 
 
 surface fine streaks, between which were small speckles. 
 A little later the Redstreak ripened a large, fine apple, 
 its whole surface covered with distinct red stripes from 
 which it derived its name. Brown Russets also ripened 
 early. As the name would imply, the coats of these were 
 brown. They were also rough and often had on them 
 warty-like outgrowths; but strange to say, these in no 
 way detracted from appearance and character of that 
 old-time favorite among apples, the Brown Russet. The 
 housewife always prized them for baking and when in 
 the oven they exuded a caramel-like substance that was 
 the delight of the children. Later came the Winesap, a 
 firm, red, smooth apple ; and later still Jennetings, Rhode 
 Island Greenings, especially fine apples, and Romanites, 
 Big and Little, but as unlike as two apples well could 
 be. The Big Romanite was a winter apple with a yel- 
 lowish-green coat on which were small scattered streaks 
 and specks. The Little Romanite was deep red, its coat 
 seemingly polished, it was so smooth. It had a sweet 
 taste, was a great "keeper" and was in fine condition 
 the spring subsequent to its gathering. 
 
 October was apple-picking month, and it was then 
 that everyone got busy at Benjamin Jones' place. Lad- 
 ders of various lengths,, baskets and buckets provided 
 with wooden hooks for attaching to limbs or ladder- 
 rounds, and long wooden hooks for pulling in limbs, 
 were the appliances the apple-pickers needed. With 
 bucket in hand the picker, after placing his ladder against 
 an apple branch heavily loaded with fruit, would go up, 
 attach his vessel to a branch or round and then carefully 
 gather the apples and place them in the bucket. Having 
 picked, all those within reach, he would use his long hook 
 to pull in other loaded limbs. His vessel filled, he would : .
 
 The Cider Mill 31 
 
 go down to the ground and carefully empty the apples 
 in a wagon, or maybe put them in a pile on the ground, 
 and so on till the last apple on the tree was gathered and 
 handled so carefully that no bruises were inflicted. 
 
 The apples that had been bruised and those that fell 
 of their own accord, the wind-falls, were put to various 
 uses ; some were cut and dried, some made into apple 
 butter and some into cider at the cidermill. This was, 
 so to speak, homemade, and consisted of a round, barrel- 
 like structure of strong boards held together by strong 
 iron hoops, in which was fitted a circular head, made 
 of thick boards and which worked up and down - and 
 was attached to the center of a long, strong lever, one 
 end of which was securely attached to a firm post, while 
 at the other a heavy weight exerted great pressure on 
 the head and thus squeezed the cider out of the pomace 
 that is, the apples that had been ground to pulp in the 
 crusher. Two upright wooden wheels, two feet long, 
 with cogs their whole length and four inches deep,, com- 
 prised the essential part of the crusher, which was en- 
 circled with a strong casing and through the top of this 
 the axle of one of the wooden wheels connected with a 
 long, horizontal sweep or lever, at one end of which a 
 horse was hitched and furnished the rotary motion by 
 going round and round. Just over the cogged wheels 
 was a hopper containing the apples to be ground. The 
 pomace found its way into a vat and from the vat was 
 scooped into the press, from the bottom of which the 
 rich-colored cider streamed out and ran into a large tub. 
 From the tub the cider was dipped, and through a fun- 
 nel conveyed into barrels. When filled the barrels were 
 left for a time with their bungs open, and meantime, the
 
 32 Threshing Grain 
 
 small boy with a convenient rye-straw sucked "nectar" 
 to his heart's content. 
 
 In the early fifties the interior of one of Benjamin 
 Jones's large barns was used as a threshing floor. From 
 the fields the wheat was hauled in and scattered over this 
 floor where horses, with boys on their backs, were made 
 to go round and round in the straw, causing each grain 
 to fall from its delicate, film-like cover. After tramping 
 the grain for a few minutes the horses were taken away, 
 when men with forks removed the straw and then with 
 scoops took up the grain and chaff and put it in a large 
 pile. Then the barn floor was again covered with wheat, 
 horses were ridden over it, the straw was removed, the 
 wheat and chaff added to what had gone before, and so 
 on till the whole product from the fields had been 
 "tramped" over. Then the fan-mill was placed in proper 
 position and one man turned it by a crank, while another 
 shoveled in the wheat and chaff. The wind, generated 
 by the fan-mill, blew away the chaff, and gravity caused 
 the wheat to fall to the bottom and run out of a spout, 
 free from impurities and ready for the miller. 
 
 Later came the threshing-machine which, in its first 
 form, was called a "ground-hog" from the fact that it 
 only threshed the grain, and did not separate it from the 
 straw 1 and chaff indeed, left it precisely in the same 
 condition it was on the barn floor when the horses had 
 done their "tramping." Consequently men had to fork 
 away the straw and run the wheat and chaff through a 
 fan-mill, before this ground-hog threshed wheat was 
 ready to be made into flour. However,, it was not long 
 till fan and separator became part of the threshing ma- 
 chine, and the golden grain, clean and ready for market, 
 ran from one of the sides of the improved thresher. In
 
 A Place of Utility 33 
 
 the old days threshing was always done by horse-power 
 and never with steam and an engine, as is uniformly 
 the custom today. 
 
 A good many people piled their wood in the front yard, 
 and chopped it there with the result that the chips flew 
 all about and created an unsightly litter. Not so with 
 Benjamin Jones, the Progressive Pioneer! About his 
 house was a lawn interspersed with shrubbery and shade 
 trees, but separated from it by a fence, and yet convenient 
 to the house, was a woodyard of ample dimensions, where 
 wood hauled from the timber was placed and chopped in 
 fire-lengths. 
 
 At the rear of this woodyard and convenient to the 
 kitchen was an outhouse with several apartments ; one of 
 these, attached to the main structure by a shed-roof, was 
 the smokehouse where the meat was salted, smoked and 
 kept ; another, the principal room, was a sort of place for 
 doing things which the women did not care to have done 
 in the house, such as rendering lard, making soap, boiling 
 down cider, making apple butter, and washing the family 
 linen. In this room was a large fireplace, in that day, 
 needed for doing the above-named things. Another thing 
 done at this fireplace was molding candles. Benjamin 
 Jones provided his household with several sets of candle- 
 molds, each of which would mold a dozen candles. These 
 were made of heavy tin, their tops, for shaping the big- 
 end of the candle, connected by a common receiver, and 
 their several tips just large enough to admit the small 
 end of a candle-stick. When the housewife was about 
 to make candles she first of all put a wick in each single 
 mold. This she did by taking a piece twice the length 
 of the candle, folding it upon itself, twisting its smaller 
 end and passing it down and out at the bottom of the
 
 34 For the Outer and Inner Man 
 
 mold, leaving the double end at the top through which a 
 short stick passed to hold it in place. When each sepa- 
 rate mold was thus threaded, so to speak, melted tallow 
 was poured in till all were filled. After filling, the molds 
 were set aside, till the melted tallow could have time to 
 "set," a matter of a few hours, when each candle was 
 pulled out by the stick that had been passed through the 
 base of the wick. In the end the housewife found her- 
 self in possession of one, two, three, four or more, dozen 
 candles, all depending on how many .molds she had filled. 
 
 Another thing done beside the fireplace in this out- 
 house was making apple-butter. In the beautiful month 
 of October after apples were ripe and cider-making had 
 gotten under way the thrifty housewife began to make 
 apple-butter, peach-butter and preserves. For this pur- 
 pose Benjamin Jones had a brass kettle that held perhaps 
 ten gallons. Filled about two-thirds full of cider, this 
 kettle was placed over a fire and heated while apples, 
 peeled and quartered, were stirred in till all was cooked 
 into a soft pulp, or in other words, acceptable apple- 
 butter. 
 
 Peach-butter was made in much the same way, and 
 likewise plum-butter and other butter varieties that a 
 thrifty housekeeper well knew how to make. 
 
 In one corner of the large room was a loom for weav- 
 ing coarse cloth and carpets. In the forties, as elsewhere 
 noted, most of the men wore jeans and the women linsey, 
 both woolen in texture. Till near the end of the forties 
 most of the floors were bare, but with the coming of the 
 fifties, women began to weave rag carpets. These car- 
 pets, as their name signifies, were made of rags, rags of 
 various hues and texture. All of the carpets then were
 
 A Pair of Buttet Molds 35 
 
 home-made and home-woven on the rude, awkwardly- 
 constructed looms of that time. 
 
 In his younger days Benjamin Jones had been some- 
 thing of a hunter and was a good shot. He still kept his 
 old Kentucky rifle, but rarely used it for any purpose 
 other than for shooting beeves and hogs at butchering 
 time. At the fireplace in the outhouse he sometimes 
 molded bullets for his rifle. For this purpose he had a 
 pair of bullet-molds which, when closed, looked much 
 like a pair of pliers. However, between their closed jaws 
 was a round opening into which melted lead was poured 
 and allowed to cool, when, by opening the handle-blades, 
 a leaden bullet would drop out, due to the fact that half 
 of the mold was in either jaw of the appliance. As the 
 lead cooled quickly, bullets could be molded rapidly, but 
 always at the expense of some dross. Lead for bullets 
 was always purchased in bars at the community store. 
 
 As before noted, Benjamin Jones was ever progres- 
 sive, and was in the forefront of that progressive era in 
 Illinois that had its inception near the beginning of the 
 second half of the Nineteenth Century and that depended 
 not a little upon the free influx into the State of Cali- 
 fornia gold. For this reason the next chapter will be 
 devoted to the discovery of gold in California, notwith- 
 standing the fact that this event occurred in the late 
 forties, instead of the fifties to which this work is more 
 especially devoted.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE GOLD-SEEKERS OF THE LATE FORTIES. 
 
 What scenes they pass'd, what camps at morn, 
 
 What weary columns kept the road; 
 
 What lines of yoked and patient steers! 
 What weary thousands pushing west! 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 i 
 
 The great energy and all but irrepressible enterprise 
 of Captain Sutter were most important factors in bring- 
 ing about the epoch-making discovery of gold in Cali- 
 fornia near the middle of the Nineteenth Century. 
 
 Captain John A. Sutter a native of Switzerland, came 
 to California in 1839, and calling to his aid a number of 
 Mexicans and friendly Indians, built a Fort, where now 
 is located the City of Sacramento, at the junction of the 
 American and Sacramento rivers. This Fort occupied 
 an acre or more of ground, was surrounded by an adobe 
 wall twenty feet high, and at two of its diagonally oppo- 
 site corners, had two, two-story block-houses. Within 
 the enclosure was a general store, a blacksmith shop, a 
 carpenter shop, and a room where Indian women made 
 blankets and other articles of common use, indispen- 
 sable to pioneers. Within the Fort there were also 
 apartments for residence purposes. 
 
 Here Captain Sutter lived, managed, his affairs and 
 
 governed his employees and followers not unlike a Baron 
 
 of the middle ages. Indeed, under Mexican law, he 
 
 could inflict punishment up to the death penalty, if needs 
 
 (36)
 
 Captain Suiter 37 
 
 be. But in justice to Captain Sutter it should be said 
 that, if ever he was unjust or cruel in the exercise of 
 authority, such fact is unknown. 
 
 But whatever Captain Sutter was or was not, he was 
 most of all a man of affairs and at all times had an eye 
 out for business. He supplied the pioneers, immigrants 
 and travelers with staple articles of food for the inner 
 man, and coarse, strong garments for the outer. He 
 also kept a stock of things required by wagonmen and 
 horsemen, such as harness, saddles, bridles and the 
 thousand and one things needed in the wear and tear of 
 frontier life. Further than this, he constructed a Tan- 
 nery, where the hides bought from cattlemen were 
 dressed. 
 
 When at the close of the Mexican war, California was 
 ceded to the United States, Captain Sutter saw that there 
 would be a heavy emigration from the States and con- 
 sequently a greatly increased demand for lumber with 
 which to construct houses for the incomers. Impressed 
 with this idea he realized that a properly located sawmill 
 would be a profitable investment. But where could a 
 good site for a sawmill be found ? Who could build and 
 equip one? And who could run it as it should be run, 
 after it was built? These were questions that came up- 
 permost in Captain Sutter's mind after he had decided, 
 if possible, to add a sawmill to his many other enter- 
 prises. In this frame of mind he had the good fortune 
 to make the acquaintance of one James W. Marshall, a 
 native of New Jersey, a mill-wright, a carpenter, an all- 
 around handy man with a roving disposition, a rolling- 
 stone, in fact, who doubtless had helped others to make 
 money, but who, as yet, had made none for himself. 
 
 After talking the matter over it was agreed that Mar-
 
 Seeking a MiU-Site 
 
 shall should find a suitable site and erect the mill, that 
 Captain Sutler should furnish the money to purchase 
 all needed appliances and material, that after it was fin- 
 ished Marshall should superintend the running of the 
 mill, and that the profits should be equally divided be- 
 tween them. 
 
 As. soon as the agreement was consummated Marshall 
 disappeared f rQtn view and did not show himself again 
 till the. end of a month's time, when he reported to Cap- 
 tain Sutter that he had found an eligible site for a saw- 
 mill at Coloma, on the north fork of the American River, 
 sixty-five miles distant by trail, forty-five as the crow 
 flies. It was now late in the fall and no time was to be 
 lost, so ox-carts and pack-mules were secured, loaded 
 with such appliances and material as would be needed in 
 the construction of the sawmill, and all, under the lead of 
 Marshall, were promptly started on the trail to the far- 
 away Coloma. 
 
 Having, done what he could to get the sawmill under 
 way, Captain Sutter dismissed it from his mind for the 
 time, and busied himself with his numerous other affairs. 
 Among the latter was a flou ring-mill which he was build- 
 ing at Brighton not far distant from his fort. 
 
 Meanwhile, Marshall in the face of many obstacles 
 reached his destination and there pushed the work on 
 ^the sawmill with due energy and enterprise and by the 
 -middle of, January the structure was almost ready to 
 operate. However, at the last moment it was found 
 that the race which carried off the water after it had 
 done its work, was too shallow. To remedy this Marshall 
 decided to try the experiment of opening wide the flood- 
 gates and permitting the water to sweep through, out 
 and over all. Accordingly one evening the gates were
 
 "Gold! Gold! I Have Found It!" 39 
 
 opened and permitted to run all night. Next morning 
 early Marshall went to the mill alone, closed the flood- 
 gates and proceeded to examine the result of his experi- 
 ment. Much to his satisfaction he found the channel 
 had been washed out till it was much wider and deeper. 
 The loose earth had been washed down stream, but the 
 heavier sand and gravel were yet in the channel. While 
 examining the latter Marshall's attention was attracted 
 by some shining lumps of mineral. Picking up one of 
 these; it was found to be heavy and bright yellow in 
 color. Marshall could think of nothing having these 
 characteristics except sulphuret of iron, but that he re- 
 membered is brittle. How was this? He hammered it 
 between two pieces of rock and was delighted to find 
 that it hammered out that is, it was malleable! 
 
 By this time the other men had come to their work, 
 and seeing them Marshall cried out, "Gold ! Gold ! I have 
 found it!" But none of them was disposed to believe 
 his words ; indeed, they thought he was half crazy. Re- 
 alizing that what he regarded as a valuable discovery 
 was not to meet with appreciation at Coloma, he saddled 
 a horse and with some specimens in his pocket started 
 for Sutter's Fort, fast as the animal could carry him. 
 
 Captain Sutter we left so occupied with his many en- 
 terprises nearer home, that he gave little heed to the 
 sawmill building at Coloma. But to the latter place the 
 fates had decreed that his attention was soon to be drawn, 
 and drawn irresistibly. 
 
 One day not far from January 20, 1848, Marshall rode 
 up to the Fort, his horse in a lather of sweat and he him- 
 self, in a state of excitement. He immediately asked for 
 a private interview with Captain Sutter and when this 
 was granted he produced the specimens and told where
 
 40 Colonia Where Gold Was Discovered 
 
 and how they were found. Captain Sutter was a well- 
 informed man and went about the examination of the 
 mineral in an intelligent and thorough manner. It so 
 happened that he had in his library a copy of the British 
 Enclycopedia and in his stores some nitro-muriatic acid. 
 He consulted the cyclopedia, under the title of the article 
 on gold, and was gratified to find the speciments pos- 
 sessed all the features and characteristics of that precious 
 metal, and furthermore, reacted to all the tests at his 
 command. 
 
 When at the conclusion of his investigations, Captain 
 Sutter said that the mineral was undoubtedly gold, Mar- 
 shall became excited and suggested that they at once go 
 back to Coloma. This Captain Sutter was opposed to, 
 but finally gave his word that he would go next day. 
 Having exacted this promise from Captain Sutter, Mar- 
 shall immediately mounted a fresh horse and started on 
 his return trip. A cold winter rain was falling steadily 
 and Marshall had not tasted a bite of food since meeting 
 Captain Sutter, but these things did not deter him from 
 riding fast as his horse would carry him. 
 
 Next morning it was still raining, but Captain Sutter, 
 true to his promise, started on horseback for Coloma, 
 having for company an Indian soldier and a vaquero. 
 When they were well on their way they saw a man 
 crawl out of the brush into the trail, a little distance in 
 front of them, and upon approaching closer, found that 
 it was Marshall, still under great excitement, who, it 
 seemed, after reaching Coloma and looking about for a 
 little time, mounted a fresh horse and started back on 
 the trail hoping to meet Captaain Sutter, which, as we 
 have seen, he fortunately did. The party rode forward 
 rapidly and reached the millrace before nightfall. Here
 
 Trying to Keep a Secret 41 
 
 the gates were opened wide and the water permitted to 
 flow all night. Next morning a number of additional 
 specimens were found in the bottom of the race and 
 later Captain Sutter took these to a goldsmith, had them 
 fashioned into a large ring, within which, was engraved 
 the following: "The first gold discovered in January, 
 1848." 
 
 After looking around for a day or two, Captain Sutter 
 returned to his fort. Before starting, however, he ex- 
 acted a, solemn promise from each of Marshall's em- 
 ployees that they would under no circumstances divulge 
 the secret of the discovery. He realized that some of his 
 irons, of which he had many, would burn if the discovery 
 became generally known. But a secret, such as the one 
 Captain Sutter was trying to keep under cover, was hard 
 to hide. One W. P. Wimjner, with his wife and family, 
 had a temporary abode near Marshall's mill. Mrs. Wim- 
 mer did the cooking for all the employees, among whom 
 was a teamster who, upon arriving from the fort with a 
 load of provisions, was told of what had happened in 
 his absence, by his landlady, at whose table he was striv- 
 ing to satisfy a hungry man's appetite. 
 
 This teamster very naturally became interested, col- 
 lected a few specimens and carried them with him when 
 he returned to the fort. A little later he felt the need 
 of some brandy and, recollecting his specimens, took 
 these to the store of Brannan & Smith and sought to 
 trade them for a bottle of the desired stimulant. Smith, 
 one of the partners to whom the proposition was made, 
 at once became indignant that some worthless mineral 
 was thought good enough to exchange for his fine, choice 
 brandy. In reply the teamster said the specimens were 
 gold and he would be glad to leave the matter to the
 
 42 "The Cat Out of the Bag" 
 
 judgment of Captain Sutter. As Brannan & Smith had 
 their goods in a building that adjoined Sutter's fort, it 
 was little trouble to follow the teamster's suggestion. Of 
 course when squarely approached in the matter, Captain 
 Sutter had to tell the whole story. 
 
 Smith told his partner, Brannan, all about the discov- 
 ery. Brannan became so interested that he at once went 
 to Coloma, looked around for a few days and became so 
 impressed with the magnitude of the "find" that he re- 
 turned to the fort, rented a larger room, bought a larger 
 stock of goods and in various ways got ready for an in- 
 rush of people which he felt sure knowledge of the dis- 
 covery would bring. Thus the secret was no longer a 
 secret. "The cat was out of the bag." 
 
 As Captain Sutton feared, several of his irons were 
 burned. At the tannery hides rotted in the vats; at the 
 mill building at Brighton, all work ceased, for the reason 
 that men could not be induced to do trifling, every-day 
 work, when under their very feet rich mines of gold 
 were, in a sense, beckoning them to come and unearth 
 their hidden wealth. 
 
 After vainly endeavoring to stem the tide, Captain 
 Sutter recalling the adage, "While in Rome do as the 
 Romans do," called to his aid one hundred and fifty 
 Indians and Sandwich Islanders, loaded a number of 
 wagons with provisions, and started all on the trail that 
 led to the mines at Coloma. 
 
 About a month after Marshall's discovery, one of his 
 carpenters, whose name was Bennett, carried some of 
 the specimens to San Francisco where they fell under 
 the eyes of Isaac Humphrey, who had had experience in 
 the gold mines of Georgia. From the size of the speci- 
 mens and their general appearance Humphrey did not
 
 The " Forty -Niwrs" 43 
 
 hesitate to predict that the California mines would prove 
 to be much richer than those of Georgia. Indeed, Hum- 
 phrey was so impressed that he returned with Bennett 
 to Coloma and after prospecting for a little time, built 
 a rocker and went into the business of gold-washing and 
 was richly rewarded. Very soon Humphrey had imita- 
 tors who also built rockers and went to washing gold. 
 More prospecting was done and this revealed the fact 
 that the whole region around Coloma was richly gold- 
 bearing. The news spread, but in that day of slow and 
 uncertain communication it was received with incredulity 
 in many quarters. However, immigrants began to come 
 in freely, and finally in December, 1848, President Polk 
 in his annual message, officially announced to the world 
 that gold, in hitherto unheard of quantities, existed in 
 the mines of California. In less than a month after 
 President Folk's message the new year, 1849, was usn ~ 
 ered in, and in a little time people began to pour into 
 California from all quarters and continued to do so in 
 unprecedented numbers. From this fact the year 1849 
 marked an era in the history of California gold and all 
 who went to the new El Dorado then have since been 
 known as forty-niners. 
 
 Of one forty-niner I have a very vivid remembrance 
 all the more vivid because this particular forty-niner 
 was my father. And now of something pertaining to 
 his experience I desire to speak. 
 
 Early in the spring of 1849, my father and three other 
 men began making preparations for the contemplated trip 
 to California. A special outfit was required for the long 
 journey across the plains, over the Rocky Mountains and 
 down the western slope that led to what all had come to 
 look upon as a veritable Land of Promise.
 
 44 The "Forty-Niner's" Outfit 
 
 The plains of that day are now the fertile corn and 
 wheat fields of Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado and Wyom- 
 ing. The outfit in which my father and his companions 
 were interested consisted of a strong, heavy, made-to- 
 order wagon, drawn by six oxen yoked together in 
 pairs called "yokes". The wagon was covered with 
 heavy ducking and in it were stored such things as were 
 likely to be needed in making the long over-land jour- 
 ney, far from civilization and its supplies. 
 
 Among the things deemed essential may be named cer- 
 tain common tools, as handsaws, augers, axes and hatch- 
 ets; such staple articles of food as bacon, flour, corn- 
 meal, beans, coffee, sugar, salt and pepper; extra gar- 
 ments of strong, durable fiber ; and last, but by no means 
 least, rifles, other fire-arms and a good supply of pow- 
 der and lead to make plenty of bullets. These last were 
 necessary because the whole region west of the Missouri 
 was infested with roving bands of Indians some of whom 
 were disposed to be unfriendly. Further than this there 
 were wolves, elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo in millions. 
 
 The family my father left behind consisted of a wife 
 and five children ranging in age from a babe in arms 
 to a daughter just budding into young womanhood; and 
 strange to say, at this writing, sixty-six years later, all 
 that family are alive, save the parents. 
 
 Arrived at St. Louis my father sold his horse and, 
 after transacting some business, took passage on a steam- 
 boat for St. Joseph, Mo. At that time Asiatic Cholera 
 was epidemic in all the river towns, as the following 
 letter written by him will show:
 
 One "Forty-Niner" 45 
 
 ST. JOSEPH, Mo., May n, 1849. 
 Dear Wife and Children: 
 
 I take my pen in hand at this last opportunity of writ- 
 ing to let you know that I am yet alive, though it is a 
 mercy I am not in my grave, having so long been in an 
 atmosphere of cholera and disease. I am just recover- 
 ing from a spell of disease, bearing all the symptoms of 
 cholera except cramping, and, had I been alarmed, I 
 should have fallen a victim to that disease as did a num- 
 ber on board. 
 
 The San Francisco had about 300 passengers, of re- 
 spectable men mostly bound for California, of whom 
 but two died, though our boat occupied twelve days in 
 making her trip to this place. But be sure the cholera 
 is on and along the river, the destruction of life being 
 considerable on every boat. The most distressing scene 
 occurred yesterday: The Steamboat Mary arrived hav- 
 ing lost some forty of her crew and passengers, and not 
 being permitted to land she went up (the river) and 
 buried her dead. Then she returned and later steamed 
 down the river to find a retreat for her sick and dying. 
 Meantime, to see her deck crowded with women and 
 children, who were not allowed to land, was indeed a 
 melancholy spectacle. But enough of this we are here 
 and we trust safe. Our team is over the river and we 
 expect to be on the plains this evening without hearing a 
 word from you since I left home. In vain sought word 
 
 at the Post Office I should like to write about 
 
 the difficulties of navigating the Missouri river and all 
 about our trip and how near I came to losing my life. 
 
 Your affectionate Companion and Father, 
 
 JAMES JOHNSON.
 
 46 A Toilsome Journey 
 
 We received another letter written two weeks later at 
 Fort Kearney, now Grand Island, Nebraska, and this 
 proved to be the last one. In this letter he stated that 
 2,900 wagons had been registered at Fort Kearney, and 
 this number was thought to comprise less than half the 
 train. 
 
 The wagon trains making these overland trips were 
 organized and under the command of leaders. Of nights 
 the wagons were parked, the animals herded on the 
 prairie grass, and well armed guards posted at all points 
 of the compass. This course was rendered necessary to 
 prevent possible raids by Indians. Two of the four men 
 of a certain wagon were a father and son. The latter 
 was just passing out of his teens, and although it was 
 before the day of the dime novel, this youth became im- 
 bued with the idea that he would reach full manhood all 
 the sooner if he could somehow manage to "kill his In- 
 dian." Unfortunately for all concerned, the opportunity 
 for this came all too promptly and all too certainly. 
 Meeting a lone Indian, the youth yielded to a murderous 
 impulse, raised his gun, took aim and fired. His victim 
 fell dead at his feet, as innocent of evil intent as anyone 
 could be. 
 
 A little later the tribe took the matter up and follow- 
 ing the Old Testament rule of "an eye for an eye", de- 
 cided to demand of his friends the surrender of the 
 murderer that he might be put to death. Accordingly 
 the old men of the tribe came to the leading men of the 
 emigrant train and made known their decision, and there 
 seemed nothing else to do but surrender the rash youth 
 whose heart-broken father could do nothing but bemoan 
 the fate which he well knew would promptly overtake 
 his son.
 
 The Grim Reaper 47 
 
 About the first of June, 1849, my father left Fort 
 Kearney and with his companions plunged deeper into 
 the wilderness. As before said, the letter written from 
 this place was destined to be the last one he was to write 
 to his family. We learned later that he wrote others 
 but these failed to reach their destination. However, 
 from time to time we heard from him indirectly through 
 letters written by members of his party. 
 
 One evening in the following December two of my 
 uncles came to our house with countenances that be- 
 trayed the sad errand that had brought them. It turned 
 out that they had just received a letter from a comrade 
 of my father, saying that ten weeks before he had died 
 from an attack of disease not long after reaching Sacra- 
 mento City. Such was the fate of one forty-niner 
 reached the Land of Promise only to find there his grave. 
 The companion of my father, who was near his own age, 
 a man by the name of Gillispie, reached the gold-fields 
 in safety, went to mining, and at the end of two years 
 was two thousand dollars ahead. With this in his pos- 
 session he took a ship at San Francisco and started home 
 by way of Panama. But unfortunately he was stricken 
 with an acute attack of disease from which he died and 
 was buried at sea. His earnings, fortunately for all con- 
 cerned, in due time reached his family in safety. The 
 two young men of my father's immediate party returned 
 home at the end of two or three years, with nothing to 
 their credit but experience. One young man who went 
 from our community, after two years spent in Califor- 
 nia returned with four thousand dollars in gold. This 
 in that day, and in that neighborhood, was looked upon 
 as an almost fabulous sum. 
 
 California gold made a great increase in the money
 
 48 Gold and Prosperity 
 
 circulation of the country and the result was a real boom 
 in business and a more than doubling in the price of all 
 commodities. A second result of California gold was a 
 great improvement in the manner and condition of liv- 
 ing among the people generally.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE STAGE COACH, STAGE DRIVER, STAGE STAND, AND 
 AN ORIGINAL DR. JEKYL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Go call a coach, and let a coach be called, 
 And let the man who calleth be a caller. 
 
 Henry Carey. 
 
 Whoe'er excels in what we prize, 
 Appears a hero in our eyes. 
 
 Swift. 
 
 In the late forties and early fifties, the stage coach 
 reached its most prosperous era. Long experience had 
 enabled its managers to develop a capacity for overcom- 
 ing obstacles, and to a degree meeting the wants of the 
 traveling public. The coaches were made of the best 
 material obtainable. Moreover, the wheels, tongue, axles 
 and doubletrees, while strong and durable, were not 
 awkward and clumsy in appearance. The body, large 
 enough to accommodate eight or ten passengers inside, 
 instead of resting on iron springs, was suspended on 
 heavy leather straps. At the rear end was the boot for 
 carrying trunks which were protected from the weather 
 by a strong, heavy, leather curtain, securely buckled to 
 the sides of the coach. In front was the driver's seat 
 with space at his feet for the main pouch and travelers' 
 handbags. A kind of bannister of iron rods surrounded 
 the top of the coach where extra baggage and passengers 
 were carried. Beside the driver was an extra seat al- 
 ways in demand in fine weather. 
 
 The stage driver was a unique character. He was 
 
 (49)
 
 50 Accidents and Emergencies 
 
 always trustworthy and in his way manly. The stage 
 lines carried the United States mail, and it was the busi- 
 ness of the stage driver to get this and the passengers 
 through to their destination ; and this he sometimes had 
 to do in the face of many difficulties. In certain seasons 
 the roads were little else than a slough of mud and in 
 this the coach sometimes mired down. 
 
 Then perhaps there would come a time when the 
 ground was partially frozen, when both horses and coach 
 would one xnoment be on a crust of ice and the next in 
 a mire of mud. Sometimes the tongue would break and 
 one had to be extemporized from a fence rail and rope, 
 or straps. Sometimes a wheel would break down, and 
 again a convenient fence rail would be utilized by fas- 
 tening one end of it on the forward axle, resting the 
 rear axle on its middle, and leaving its other end to drag 
 on the ground. Under these circumstances the jaded 
 horses literally dragged the coach to the next stage stand, 
 where it was turned over to the blacksmith and wagon 
 maker who in those days were experts in their callings. 
 Meanwhile an extra coach, if one was available, if not 
 a vehicle of some kind, was temporarily pressed into 
 service and the mail and passengers hauled to the next 
 stage stand. 
 
 One of the delights of my childhood was to watch an 
 incoming stage coach. Upon approaching the village 
 the driver always managed to put his horses on their 
 mettle and as a result they would be in a fast trot and 
 champing their bits. Meanwhile the body of the coach, 
 suspended on leather straps, swayed to and fro in grace- 
 ful curves. As soon as the coach came to a standstill, 
 stable boys took out the horses and put fresh, well- 
 grooriied ones in their places. Meanwhile the mail pouch
 
 Stage-Coach, 
 (A. C. McClurg and Co., by permission) 
 
 Franklin House, Greenville, 111. a Stage-Stand in the 50's. 
 Lincoln was once entertained here.
 
 "Changing the Mail" 51 
 
 was taken to the postoffice where it was opened, its con- 
 tents emptied out and sorted over. After taking out 
 letters and papers intended for that locality, the remain- 
 der, with mail matter dropped in the office, was returned 
 to the mail sack which was locked and returned to the 
 care of the stage driver. Putting the mail pouch through 
 this process was called "changing the mail". When all 
 was ready, the passengers in their seats, the trunks in 
 the boot, extra baggage and passengers on top, the driver 
 mounted his seat, as proudly as ever a king mounted 
 his throne. There with four lines in one hand and his 
 long whip in the other, he could "touch up" the leaders, 
 give a "cluck" and sharp "git-up" to the wheel horses, 
 when all would start off at a lively trot. Again the 
 body of the coach would sway gracefully, again the 
 small boy would be delighted and vow that when he 
 grew to manhood he would be a stage driver. 
 
 As stated before, whatever else the stage driver might 
 or might not be, he was always trustworthy. In those 
 days banks were few and far between, and our present 
 methods of exchange were very little in vogue; conse- 
 quently the stage driver was not unfrequently entrusted 
 with large sums of money and he never betrayed his trust. 
 Though he was almost never a total abstainer, on duty 
 he drank little or nothing. He was always full of good 
 stories, always chewed tobacco and in expectorating 
 could hit the head of a ten-penny nail eight feet away. 
 Moreover, if the occasion seemed to justify it, he could 
 "swear by note". About every ten miles along the stage 
 route there was what was known as a stage stand, where 
 there was a tavern and a large stable for housing and 
 caring for the stage horses. These taverns were usually 
 two-story buildings with a long porch running the whole
 
 52 "A Mighty Hot HeU" 
 
 length of the structure. On a post about eight feet 
 high, between the porch and the road, was a frame, 
 about three feet long and two feet wide, in which swung 
 a large thick board upon which, in big letters, was the 
 name of the tavern with sometimes the additional words, 
 "Entertainment for Man and Beast". The first name of 
 our village was Amity, consequently the tavern had on 
 its sign in front, "Amity Hotel". Some wag read it, 
 A-mity Hot-el "A Mighty Hot Hell!", and soon these 
 words were in the mouth of every one. Whether from 
 this cause, or from some other, the village was given, 
 and yet bears, the name of the famous Indian maiden, 
 Pocahontas. 
 
 But this village tavern, despite its unseemly nick- 
 name, deserves more than a passing notice. It was a 
 two-story structure with a wide porch running the whole 
 length of its front; through its center was a hall that 
 led into a large dining-room; and upon one side of the 
 hall was a lady's parlor and on the other the office, 
 usually referred to as the bar-room; but why bar-room, 
 no one could tell, for not a drop of intoxicating drink 
 was sold about the premises, and for that matter not 
 even in the village; furthermore the landlord was a total 
 abstainer. A stairway in the hall led to a number of 
 sleeping rooms up stairs. 
 
 The food furnished was substantial and not unappe- 
 tizing, but from lack of modern methods of preserving 
 meats and fruits the bill of fare at certain seasons lacked 
 variety and at times came dangerously near to "hog and 
 hominy". But whatever the table lacked in off-seasons 
 was more than compensated for in late summer time, 
 when it was literally loaded with things supposed to be 
 good for the inner man.
 
 The Typhoid, Fly 53 
 
 But O, the flies ! Flies everywhere ! Flies on every- 
 thing! Flies m everything! But little wonder, for at 
 no great distance from the kitchen door was a big ma- 
 nure pile an ideal incubator for hatching these house- 
 hold pests. And what more natural that the flies there 
 generated should go straight to the kitchen and dining- 
 room, neither of which were screened for the good rea- 
 son that the genius who later devised that great boon 
 for the housewife, the fly screen,* had as yet not had 
 his inspiration. 
 
 About three feet above the dining-room table and ex- 
 tending its whole length was a strong cord to which was 
 attached strips of paper that reached nearly down to 
 the dishes. At mealtime it became the duty of someone 
 to manipulate this cord in such a way that the papers 
 hanging below it were set in motion and the flies for 
 the time being kept from alighting on the food. 
 
 In private homes as mealtime approached someone 
 went to a bush or tree and broke off a small branch well 
 supplied with leaves, and with this industriously plied, 
 the flies, with more or less success, would be kept from 
 the table. Instead of a branch from a tree people in 
 better circumstances used a brush made of ostrich 
 feathers. 
 
 Strange as it now seems, flies in the fifties were re- 
 garded as scavengers and hence their coming in untold 
 numbers was welcomed. On the advent of summer I 
 more than once heard the wise ones predict that we were 
 destined to have a sickly season for the reason that 
 there were so few flies! How things change! The 
 supposedly innocent housefly of two generations ago has 
 
 *Fly screens came in general use in the later 6o's.
 
 54 A 'Well-Dressed Stranger 
 
 been renamed the typhoid fly, and rightly. Rightly be- 
 cause this old-time "scavenger" of the old days, not 
 only carries typhoid germs, but those of tuberculosis, of 
 diphtheria, and many other virulent diseases as well. 
 
 In my childhood the tavern and stage stand comprised 
 the real "hub" of the village. Here four times every 
 day the stage, the fastest conveyance of its day, would 
 stop, well-dressed strangers would alight to stretch their 
 legs, if not to get meals at the tavern, alert stable boys 
 would care for the horses, the always picturesque stage 
 driver would bite off an immense chew of "terbaccer" 
 and maybe put a new cracker on his whip. Meanwhile 
 the landlord had come out and was proceeding to make 
 himself agreeable. Usually with a clean shaven face 
 and the appearance of being well kept, he was all polite- 
 ness and had a kindly word for all. 
 
 One day late in 1851 a stranger got off the stage coach 
 and looked about the village. He was well dressed, gen- 
 tlemanly in manner and entertaining in conversation. 
 Later it began to be noised about that he had money 
 and thought of locating in the community. After a time 
 both of these rumors proved to be true; for with ready 
 money he purchased a farm that adjoined the village. 
 'The only dwelling on this property was an old and long- 
 used log house, but the stranger, a Mr. Lane, made a 
 good impression and every one had a good word for 
 him and a kind wish for his good wife, daughter and 
 three boys. It was not long till he showed himself to 
 "be a man of affairs. He was energetic, progressive and 
 disposed to do things. He bought additional land and, 
 in due time, put this in a high state of cultivation. Later 
 he became proprietor of the busiest store in the com- 
 munity, erected an up-to-date dwelling and moved into
 
 There Were Whisperings 55 
 
 it. Meanwhile he had become prominent in the com- 
 munity and foremost in every good work. He gave, 
 evidence of being sympathetic and free-hearted and 
 seemed ready to open his pocketbook when occasion 
 required. Mr. Lane, not very long after coming in the 
 community, was elected Sunday School superintendent 
 on the theory, as his sponsor put it, that "a new broom 
 sweeps clean", and this place he filled so well that he 
 seemed to have been made for it. 
 
 Every Sunday he went to church and sat with his 
 wife and children. This was an innovation, for, as else- 
 where stated, the men sat on one side of the church and 
 the women on the other. In every way Mr. Lane 
 seemed to be a model citizen and as such, a real acces- 
 sion to the community. By and by unpleasant rumors 
 began to be whispered rumors that gave rise to the 
 query: Could there be a rift in the lute? a fly in the 
 ointment? Mr. Lane was conceded by all to be a very 
 energetic, busy man and it was known that he had to 
 go to certain large cities to purchase goods; but it had 
 been remarked that these visits seemed unnecessarily 
 frequent. Dame Rumor was so inconsiderate as to as- 
 sert that most of these trips to large cities were made for 
 the purpose of getting out of sight and indulging in a 
 drunken spree. But in any event he always returned 
 towards the end of the week and on the following Sab- 
 bath, in immaculate dress, he would be at church with 
 his family, and apparently no one followed tne sermon 
 closer than he. No one questioned the fact that Mr. 
 Lane was a model husband and father and in his home 
 he regularly conducted family worship. 
 
 Some years later I reached young manhood, was a
 
 56 A Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde 
 
 soldier in the Union army,* and procured a furlough, 
 at New Orleans took a steamboat to come up the river; 
 and upon entering the cabin the first man I saw was 
 my old Sunday School superintendent, Mr. Lane, drunk ! 
 Yes, silly drunk. Thus had the mighty fallen! Thus 
 was broken one of the idols of my childhood. When 
 it first came out, I read with much interest Robert Louis 
 Stevenson's "Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde", and at once 
 realized that our own Mr. Lane had lived this double 
 life before the noted author was born. However, in 
 that period our village afforded exceptional opportuni- 
 ties for living this dual life. It was fifteen miles from 
 the nearest railway, it had no telegraph and most of our 
 villagers were disposed to attend to their own affairs. 
 
 As a medical man of considerable experience, I now 
 know that Mr. Lane was what is known as a "periodic", 
 who at certain times would be stricken with a desire for 
 drink that had to be satisfied. At such times he would 
 have a hired man hitch up the fastest horse to a buggy 
 and drive him rapidly to the railway station; arrived 
 there he would board a train for St. Louis, where he 
 could drink his fill. From there he would perhaps go 
 to first one and another large city and remain till his 
 debauch was ended. Then he would return to his hotel, 
 wash, shave, take a bath, put on his best clothes and in 
 due time return home, seemingly none the worse for his 
 experience. Arrived home he would again take up the 
 threads of every-day life and apparently throw renewed 
 energy in his business. 
 
 The fifties had scarce reached their middle when the 
 swaying stage coaches, the faithful stage horses, and the 
 
 *See Muskets and Medicine by the author.
 
 "Low Lies That House" 57 
 
 always interesting stage driver, were all ordered to a new 
 stage line in Iowa! Why? Because in Illinois a newly 
 built steam railway had paralleled the stage line and it 
 could no longer be run with profit. 
 
 Not long ago I visited the location of the village stage 
 stand, the spot that in my childhood was the "hub" of 
 the community, and I was unable to find so much as a 
 stone or brick of what contributed to the make-up of the 
 tavern and stage stables. Indeed, all I saw was a soli- 
 tary bush. I thought of the following lines from Gold- 
 smith's "Deserted Village" : 
 
 "Near yonder thorn that lifts its head on high, 
 Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye, 
 Low lies that house 
 
 Where gray-haired Mirth and smiling Toil retired, 
 Where village statesmen talked with looks profound 
 And news much older than their ale (?) went round; . 
 Imagination fondly stoops to trace 
 The parlor splendors of that festive place, 
 The whitewashed wall, the nicely sanded floor, 
 The varnished clock that ticked behind the door; 
 The hearth, except when winter chilled the day, 
 Within aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 A COUNTRY STORE IN THE FIFTIES. 
 
 Gum, gall and groceries ; ginger and gin ; 
 Tar, tallow, tumeric, turpentine and tin. 
 
 Selected. 
 
 But in the way of bargain, mark ye me 
 I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 James Hike was a leading and popular citizen of the 
 village. He was agreeable, approachable, and by some 
 of his friends familiarly called Jim, by others Hike. 
 In consequence of James Hike's popularity, together 
 with the additional fact that he was postmaster, his 
 place of business became the popular resort of the vil- 
 lage. In warm weather the porch that ran the whole 
 length of his store front was a favorite gathering-place 
 for the men and boys of the village. Two or three old 
 wooden chairs, some empty boxes and two boards along 
 the store-front, served as seats. Here in small knots, 
 in warm bright days, and in larger number of warm 
 rainy days, the villagers, and the villagers reinforced 
 from the farms, gathered and discussed various topics, 
 told stories and gossiped about their neighbors. The 
 crops, the weather, present and prospective, the roads, 
 the latest arrival in the village, the new circuit rider, 
 letters from friends in California, were only some of the 
 things talked about. Old, white-haired men, rich in ex- 
 periences, down to bare- footed, tow-headed boys, who 
 had eyes and ears for all that was to be seen and heard, 
 (58)
 
 Listening and Whittling 59 
 
 made up the gathering on Hike's porch. Almost every 
 adult had either a pipe in his mouth or a knife in his 
 hand, and some were supplied with both. The pipes 
 seemed to have the quality of loosening tongues, and the 
 knives fixed the attention and quickened the sense of 
 hearing. 
 
 Possibly the two last-named effects were due to the 
 fact that those who held the knives had their nerves 
 steadied by cutting and whittling cutting letters, names 
 and rude figures of men or animals upon the boxes, 
 boards or wooden chairs upon which they were seated. 
 Others .were just as intently whittling away upon pine 
 sticks, pieces of box lids that they were trimming into 
 various shapes, but generally into sharp points or rounded 
 extremities. With the talkers it was puff, puff, with 
 the listeners it was cut, cut, whittle, whittle. 
 
 There was one frequenter of Hike's porch who was 
 greatly given to exaggeration. Indeed, extravagance in 
 the receipt of impressions and exaggeration in the state- 
 ment of fact seemed to be constitutional with Jack Jaw- 
 good, for such was the man's name. His ear drums 
 must have been geared with multipliers and his retinae 
 supplied with magnifiers, so sure was he to hear and 
 see things in a much bigger way than common people. 
 Jack Jawgood was garrulous and unless some more in- 
 teresting talker was present, was sure to command lis- 
 teners. Jawgood was tall, lean, lank, had big brown 
 eyes and a hooked nose. He nearly always wore a hunt- 
 ing shirt, brown jeans trousers that were generally too 
 short, and an old black wool hat devoid of band and 
 without shape in rim. In hot weather he often went 
 barefooted and in winter wore brogan shoes and coarse, 
 white, woolen socks the tops of which barely reached
 
 60 Jack Jawgood 
 
 the bottom of his trousers when he was standing. But 
 when seated a considerable gap was left between trou- 
 sers and socks, which exposed to view a hairy patch of 
 shin. Jack was ever on the alert for the latest bit of 
 neighborhood news. An accident of any kind, a run- 
 away, a fight, a broken arjn, a sudden fit of sickness or 
 a moral lapse anywhere in the community was a newsy 
 tidbit to the morbid makeup of Jack Jawgood. Stocked 
 with one or more items of the kind, he straightway went 
 to Hike's porch and, with no end of magnifying, pro- 
 ceeded to recount what he had heard or seen. His ac- 
 count was always interlarded with such expressions as 
 "sure as I am alive he said" so and so; "I wish I may 
 die if I didn't see". Jawgood seemed to snatch up bits 
 of news much as a cow would blades of grass. Like 
 the cow, too, later chewing her cud, he, at Hike's porch 
 in his long drawn out narrations, chewed over and over 
 his collected news items with much exaggeration and 
 extreme satisfaction. The villagers all knew Jack 
 Jawgood and his love of exaggerated narration. Hence 
 he was not unf requently greeted with such inquiries as : 
 'Hey, Jack! What do you know today?" Or, "Jack, 
 what is your latest?" These questions were generally 
 accompanied with a wink or knowing look at some by- 
 stander. Jawgood had an imperturbable countenance, 
 and if these inquiries ever disturbed him no one was the 
 wiser. Indeed, it is more than probable they flattered 
 him. Jack had no rival ; in fact he monopolized the field. 
 The village had no newspaper. But times have changed. 
 The modern village newspaper has driven more than one 
 Jack Jawgood out of business. 
 
 In cold weather the porch was deserted and the in- 
 side of Hike's store, about its warm stove, became a fa-
 
 A Village "Club" 61 
 
 vorite gathering place. But the winter circle was smaller, 
 more select and altogether less democratic than the hot- 
 weather porch gathering. Old age and inexperienced 
 youth were much less in evidence. Here of evenings 
 gathered among others the two or three village pettifog- 
 gers, the school teacher, the blacksmith, the shoemaker, 
 one or more of the school directors and at times the 
 circuit rider. The circle was eminently respectable and 
 while there was no formal organization, yet it was to 
 all intents and purposes a real village club, where were 
 discussed the latest news, crops, business, prices, politics, 
 etc. Each one in attendance found his wits sharpened, 
 his hunger for social intercourse satisfied and often re- 
 alized that his fund of general information had increased. 
 
 All the goods in Hike's store were hauled by wagon 
 from St. Louis, forty miles to the west ; and in exchange 
 for these the proprietor received all kinds of country 
 produce, such as eggs, butter, lard, bacon, wool, hides 
 and indeed almost any of the smaller farm products. 
 
 The money of that time fell under two general classes, 
 namely "hard" and "paper". Hard money comprised 
 all coins of gold, silver and copper. For the most part 
 gold was coined into twenty, ten and five-dollar pieces, 
 though occasionally a one-dollar gold coin was found in 
 circulation. 
 
 Silver was coined into pieces of one dollar, fifty cents, 
 twenty-five cents, ten cents and five cents in value. 
 Early in the fifties two or three other silver pieces were 
 in circulation, picayune and "bits". A picayune had the 
 value of six and one-fourth cents, and a bit twice that, 
 or twelve and one-half cents. As a bit was just half the 
 value of twenty-five cents, the latter coin was nearly
 
 62 "Wild. Cat" Banks 
 
 always called two bits; likewise fifty cents was called 
 four bits. 
 
 Copper then, as now, was coined into one-cent pieces, 
 and occasionally t\vo-cent coppers were seen. However, 
 coppers were little used except in making change for 
 postage stamps. Goods were never priced less than five 
 cents. For illustration, when the merchant was marking 
 his goods the last figure was always a 5 or an o; i, 2, 
 3, 4, 6, 7, 8 and 9 never appeared in such place. The 
 result was cent-pieces were seldom needed in making 
 change in the stores. 
 
 By far the greatest variety in the money of that time 
 occurred in the paper circulation. The local banks all 
 issued paper money in amounts to suit themselves and 
 the result was a great deal of it was of questionable 
 value; then the bills were easily counterfeited. Many 
 of the moneyed institutions were so unreliable that they 
 were known as "wild-cat" banks. Banks of this char- 
 acter were constantly failing and meantime the counter- 
 feiter was busy striving to duplicate the issue of respon- 
 sible firms. To keep business men in touch with all this, 
 what was known as a "Counterfeit Detector" was issued 
 regularly. This was a folder about the size of an old- 
 fashioned Almanac and was expected to give the up- 
 to-date status of every banking institution within a given 
 locality. Every progressive business man was a sub- 
 scriber to a "Counterfeit Detector" and when a customer 
 presented a paper bill that he was not familiar with he 
 at once referred to what was his oracle in currency 
 matters. Sometimes the customer was told his bill was 
 counterfeit and of course worthless; at other times he 
 would be informed that the bank which had issued an- 
 other bill had failed but was paying a certain amount
 
 Everything in Stock 63 
 
 on the dollar and this amount would be allowed the 
 customer. What the merchant said "always went", as 
 the slang has it, and the customer always abided by his 
 decision. 
 
 In addition to keeping a general store, James Hike, 
 as before noted, was the village postmaster and faith- 
 fully changed the mail when the stage coach came in. 
 In the late forties and early fifties envelopes had not 
 yet come in use and consequently the sheet of foolscap 
 upon which the letter was written was folded, addressed 
 and sealed with sealing wax, a stick of which was always 
 kept at hand for this purpose. At this period letters 
 were always dropped in the postoffice and sent to the one 
 addressed who paid the postage due, and this was never 
 less than five cents, and from that on up, in proportion 
 to distance. From what has been said it will be seen 
 that postage stamps had not yet come in use. Postage 
 stamps, much as we have them today, came in use in 
 the mid-fifties, however. 
 
 "James Hike Dry Goods" stood for a general store 
 in which was on sale everything from a darning needle 
 up to a barrel of flour. Upon shelves at one side of the 
 store were dress goods, woolens, shirting, drilling, bon- 
 nets and other articles of millinery. On shelves at the 
 other side were hats, caps, boots, shoes, underwear, and 
 other things similar. Upon tables in the middle of the 
 room were overcoats, overalls, coats, trousers, and other 
 articles of men's apparel. At the back of the store was 
 a counter whereon everything in the line of groceries 
 was weighed out. So full was the store that wherever 
 on counter, shelf or even floor, a bit of space could be 
 found it was occupied by such articles as tubs, buckets,
 
 64 Whisky and Molasses 
 
 tinware, saddles, harness, chains, rope, spades, forks and 
 a miscellany of other things. 
 
 In the shed-room adjoining, plows, harrows, ox-yokes, 
 barrels of flour, salt, molasses and, as before named, 
 whisky were on sale. Alongside of the molasses barrel 
 was the whisky barrel. Both were drawn from alike 
 and as little was thought of filling the whisky jug as of 
 filling the molasses jug. Such a thing as selling beer and 
 whisky over the counter by the drink was unheard of. 
 Respectable people had whisky in their houses, for the 
 most part for medicinal purposes solely. Of course others 
 took advantage of its free and open sale to get it for a 
 beverage. But for whatsoever purpose whisky was 
 bought, its open sale was in no sense regarded as a re- 
 flection on the proprietor of the store, James Hike. In- 
 deed, Hike's store was the pride of the village and every 
 resident believed every man's needs could be satisfied 
 there. 
 
 One such resident was Joe Dobbins, a cattle buyer 
 and horse trader. Coming in from a trading tour one 
 day on the stage coach, Dobbins found himself in com- 
 pany with an acquaintance, Pete Stover, who, like him- 
 self, was a stock dealer. Stover lived in another county 
 and in the course of the conversation Hike's store came 
 up for consideration. "Tell what 'tis, Pete, Jim Hike 
 keeps mighty nigh ev-ry thing in his store." 
 
 "Mighty nigh ev'ry thing's sayin' a good deal; guess 
 you don't mean it all, Joe." 
 
 "I don't hey? You cain't name nuthin Jim Hike 
 hain't got!" said the bantering Joe Dobbins. 
 
 "Cain't I, though? How about balloons? Course I 
 mean big balloons that'll take a feller up and tote him 
 off."
 
 A Wager 65 
 
 "Now, Pete Stover, s'pose you tote fair and name 
 somethin' a man in my county and your'n 's like to 
 need." 
 
 "You mean what a common farmin' kind of a feller'd 
 need 'bout his house and place, Joe?" 
 
 "Now you're gittin' round, Pete, kaze that's jist what 
 I mean." 
 
 "Tell you what I'll do, Joe; I'll name somethin' that 
 jist the commonest kind of a feller might ask for and 
 I'll go you a ten-dollar 'shiner' your man what's-his-name 
 haint got it." 
 
 "Nuff said! Here's my money, where's your'n," was 
 the prompt reply of Joe Dobbins as he put his hand in 
 his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar gold piece that he 
 held up in plain view. 
 
 "O I'll match you. Who'll hold the stakes?" Just as 
 promptly answered Pete Stover, likewise pulling a ten- 
 dollar gold piece from his pocket, and adding: "Why, 
 Bill Hicks that's drivin' this gocart. Say Bill, me 'n 
 Pete here's made a bet ; you're to hold stakes. I got ten 
 dollars 'at says Pete cain't ask Jim Hike fur nuthin' a 
 common feller 'd want that Jim haint got in his store. 
 And Pete's got a yallar boy 'at's tryin' to say Pete kin. 
 Them's the terms. But the conditions is : If Hike's clean 
 empty and caint come down with what Pete wants then 
 Pete gits my ten. But if Jim's loaded and trots out what 
 Pete calls fur then I git all 'at's in your hands." 
 
 In due time the village was reached, and the three men, 
 most interested, went to Hike's store, and just before 
 crossing its threshold Joe Dobbins took occasion to say 
 to Pete Stover: "Name your article!" 
 
 "Goose-yokes," promptly answered Pete. 
 
 Joe's countenance fell, and is it any wonder? What
 
 66 Goose-Yokes 
 
 merchant would have goose-yokes in stock? But resolv- 
 ing to make the most of what seemed a desperate situa- 
 tion, Joe Dobbins put on a bold front and entering the 
 store with his two companions called out in as firm a 
 voice as he could command: 
 
 "Say, Jim, got any goose-yokes?" 
 
 The merchant thought a minute and answered, "Yes, 
 I believe I have; in fact, come to think, I know there's 
 some in the loft. How many do you want?" 
 
 Joe Dobbins's face brightened up under a broad smile 
 as he said: 
 
 "Shaw, Jim! You haint got no goose-yokes, nuther!" 
 
 "Yes, I have got goose-yokes," said the merchant, "and 
 now I mind how I come by them. Jake Bunch, up in the 
 Forks, had a lot of geese that kept crawling through his 
 neighbor's fences and pestering them shamefully. Now 
 Jake's wife wanted to keep the geese, but Jake didn't 
 like to harm anybody. Somewhere he heard of goose- 
 yokes and one day came in and asked me to get him a 
 lot. So I sent for them. They were a long time getting 
 here, but at last they came. One day after they'd come 
 Jake Bunch was in and I told him his goose-yokes were 
 here. 'I'm sorry,' said Jake, 'cause the geese are all dead 
 with poisen that we think somebody must have fed them 
 on, but we are saying nothing. Of course I don't need 
 the goose-yokes, but I'll pay you for them.' Bunch was 
 a good customer and so I kept the goose-yokes and let 
 him keep his money, and here's my chance to sell that 
 lot of goose-yokes and yours to get them, but I did not 
 know you kept geese, Joe." 
 
 "I don't and, comin' to the pint, I don't want your 
 goose-yokes, Jim. I jist wanted to know that yu'd got
 
 Easily Won 67 
 
 'um. Fact is, I got ten dollars dependin' on your havin' 
 'urn. Haint I, Bill Hicks?" 
 
 "Guess you're right," said the stage-driver, "and if 
 your friend don't put up any objections I'll jist hand you 
 over the stakes." 
 
 As by this time the clerk appeared with an armfull of 
 goose-yokes, Pete Stover was in no position to make any 
 objection to what the stakeholder had said. So the 
 money was put in the hands of the exultant Dobbins, and 
 meantime Hicks and Stover passed out of the store door. 
 They were hardly out of sight when Dobbins related to 
 the storekeeper all the details of the wager, closing with 
 the words: 
 
 "Tell you what 'tis, Jim; no durned furriner's goin' 
 to run down Jim Hike's store while I'm round and long's 
 I got a dollar in my pocket what kin talk."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHURCHES, CHURCH PEOPLE AND PREACHERS IN THE 
 FIFTIES. 
 
 And fools came to scoff and remained to pray. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Who builds a church to God and not to fame, 
 Will never mark the marble with his name. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 At this period there were comparatively few church 
 buildings really worthy of the name. True there was 
 here and there a "meeting-house", a barn-like struc- 
 ture, with architectural arrangements as unattractive 
 as too often were the doctrines expounded from its pul- 
 pit. Many rural communities, however, did not even 
 have these uninviting places of worship and, under 
 these circumstances, the always hospitable school-house 
 opened its doors. Here it may be proper to say that 
 most of the religious people of that era were affiliated 
 with the Methodists a denomination that always did, 
 and always would, hold meetings somewhere. If a 
 church was not available, then a schoolhouse would be 
 utilized, provided one could be had. In the event this, 
 for any reason, was impracticable, the preacher would 
 hold his meeting in a private house, or if this was too 
 small, in a grove, and in case it rained, a barn would 
 be utilized. Someway, somehow, somewhere, the zeal- 
 ous circuit rider of two generations ago managed to 
 carry the gospel of the Lowly Nazarene to practically 
 (68)
 
 An Up-To-Date Church in the Mid-Fifties. M. E. Church 
 
 erected in Pocahontas, 111., in 1854. 
 (Courtesy of Dr. D. R. Wilkins, Pocahontas)
 
 An Up-to-Date Church 69 
 
 all the people. Attendance upon religious services was 
 always referred to as going to "meeting", instead of 
 going to church. 
 
 About the middle of the fifties, the good people of 
 my village very wisely decided that they had been long 
 enough without a suitable place of worship. Accord- 
 ingly, in a very practical spirit, they put their hands 
 in their pockets and took out the price of what, in that 
 day, was an up-to-date church. Every stick of lumber 
 in this was white-pine, a building material that the re- 
 cently-constructed steam railways had made available. 
 This lumber was hauled by wagon from a station on the 
 Ohio and Mississippi Railway (now the B. and 0.) 
 fifteen miles from our village. When this church of 
 white-pine was finished and given two coats of immacu- 
 late white paint, it straightway became the pride of 
 the village, and although universally regarded as up- 
 to-date in every particular, its arrangement was simple 
 in the extreme. In front was a platform of boards 
 from which two doors opened into the church. Through 
 the south door passed the men, who took seats in the 
 two south rows of pews. Through the north door the 
 women had access to two rows of seats on the north 
 side of the church. In the farther end was an en- 
 closed, white-pine pulpit, approached on either side by 
 a short flight of steps. At the right and left of the 
 pulpit, and parallel with it, were several rows of pews 
 which the ungodly had profanely named the "amen- 
 seats". This name had undoubtedly originated in the 
 fact that the more faithful among the members always 
 found seats in these pews and when the minister made 
 some striking point they were in the habit of "speakin* 
 out in meetin' " and in no uncertain tones saying,
 
 70 An Expectorating Preacher 
 
 "Amen, Amen!" In the sides of the building were the 
 usual rows of high, narrow windows. In the front end 
 and between the doors was a large box stove with a 
 pipe that ran to the ceiling, where it turned and fol- 
 lowed this to the farther end of the building, and there, 
 immediately over the pulpit, it entered a chimney in 
 the wall. 
 
 The church was lighted by candles placed in holders 
 along the walls and in rude chandeliers hanging from 
 the ceiling. 
 
 Not very long after this church was built a preacher 
 of mature years was sent to the congregation who was 
 in the habit of using tobacco and expectorating rather 
 promiscuously. In this particular he did not even re- 
 spect the sacred precincts of his pulpit. Things went 
 on in this way for a time, till finally some of the young 
 men and women of the church decided to have a gen- 
 eral cleaning-up. Accordingly one fine day broom, dust- 
 rag and scrubbing brush were applied thoroughly and 
 vigorously. No corner, no crevice in the building, or 
 in the pulpit, was neglected. When all was finished a 
 small, strong box was filled with clean sand and at- 
 tached to one of its sides was a placard bearing in large 
 letters the words "Spit Here". 
 
 Many of the ministers preached a fiery gospel and 
 had no little to say about the "unquenchable fire" into 
 which, after death, presumably all unrepentant sinners 
 would be cast. In this connection I will refer to the 
 case of a man in another neighborhood who in a sort 
 of holy horror was referred to as an avowed Univer- 
 salist and consequently was thought to be little short 
 of cloven-footed. 
 
 Four times every year came the Quarterly meeting,
 
 Making It Attractive 71 
 
 which all looked forward to with pleasurable anticipa- 
 tion. To these Quarterly meetings always came the 
 Presiding Elder, who in most instances was a relatively 
 able preacher. One of these by the name of Mitchell I 
 yet recall with pleasure. In contrast to many others, 
 he was fond of presenting the more attractive side of 
 religion. Nothing appeared to please him so much as 
 in well chosen words to depict the delights and joys 
 of Heaven, to which he seemed to take it as a matter 
 of course we were all going. In this state of mind his 
 eyes would beam, his face would light up with radiant 
 smiles while the musical tones of his welcome words 
 fell upon delighted listeners delighted because his 
 hearers could but compare his attractive words, the 
 winning expression of his features and his kindly man- 
 ner with the harsh tones, repulsive contortions and 
 fierce pulpit-poundings of too many preachers of that 
 day as they portrayed the literal hell into which they 
 seemed to think the majority of mankind were destined 
 to sink. 
 
 Every winter there was a Protracted Meeting at 
 which it was hoped all the church members would get 
 new zeal and all the non-church members would "get 
 religion". For this last purpose a "mourners' bench'' 
 was provided. This was a long seat without a back, 
 placed in front of the pulpit and at which all kneeled 
 who wanted to get religion. 
 
 To this mourners' bench came not a few hardened 
 sinners who certainly needed some kind of reformation 
 in their lives. To it also came youths whose greatest 
 transgression was, perhaps, some mischievous prank 
 played upon a schoolmate. To it also came young 
 misses who, so far from being sinners, were the very
 
 72 A Religious Rounder 
 
 embodiment of innocence in their every-day lives. But 
 the hard theology of the day taught these innocent 
 young people that they must seek, must implore, nay 
 must "agonize", till their many sins were forgiven and 
 they could "flee from the wrath to come". 
 
 In the community were certain characters who, for 
 the want of a better name, might be termed religious 
 rounders. These individuals would get religion at ev- 
 ery protracted meeting and in a few weeks somehow 
 manage to get rid of it. One of these religious rounders 
 was an ox-driver, a six-footer with a loud, stentorian 
 voice. When this man was so fortunate as once more 
 to get religion he would work himself into a; sort of 
 ecstatic state and shout so loud and so long, that the 
 dead would almost awaken. He not unfrequently lead 
 in prayer, and as he always used substantially the same 
 words, some of us youngsters could not help "learning 
 by heart" his oft-repeated supplication. Notwithstand- 
 ing the numerous times this man fell from grace, after 
 each regeneration, in a voice that could be heard a mile 
 away, he would go about his work singing that old 
 hymn: 
 
 "I'll never turn back any more, 
 Any more, any more, I'll never turn back, I'll never turn back." 
 
 Such a thing as church music, as we understand it 
 today, was unknown in the period of which I write. 
 Indeed, by many, anything besides the human voice, 
 raised in songful worship, was deemed sacreligious. 
 Hymn books were few and none were in the pews, con- 
 sequently the preacher would "line the hymn" that the 
 congregation might sing it. Is some reader of a younger
 
 A Pleasant Memory 
 
 generation curious to know what the preacher really 
 did when he "lined" a hymn? He simply read two 
 lines, then paused till these were sung by the congrega- 
 tion, then read two more, waited till these were sung, 
 and so on till the end was reached. 
 
 Lining a hymn was perhaps a relic of the days when, 
 there were no hymn books and none was really needed 
 because the people, for the most part, could not read. 
 In due time the people began to provide themselves 
 with hymn books and for some time after this provision 
 the preacher when announcing the hymn would say: 
 "Please sing without lining". 
 
 But whatever else may have been said of these church 
 members they were liberal and accommodating in allow- 
 ing ministers of other denominations to occupy their 
 pulpit. True, the regular preacher had several other 
 appointments that he had to fill and in consequence he 
 could use the pulpit of his village church but once in 
 two weeks. 
 
 One pleasant memory deeply impressed on my mind 
 in connection with the outside use of this pulpit was 
 when a Lutheran minister from another town preached 
 and brought with him an orchestra which furnished 
 the music in delightful strains that thrilled us young- 
 sters. 
 
 At odd times this pulpit was occupied by a minister 
 of different type from any of those above described. 
 This man, in the prime of a superb manhood, was six 
 feet in height, finely proportioned and had handsome 
 features. His sermons were thoughtful and scholarly 
 and delivered in the silvery tones of a fine voice. He 
 was a good singer, always led in this part of the wor- 
 ship, and it was a real treat to hear his voice as it
 
 74 Preachers and Preachers 
 
 rounded out in the full, rich tones to the music of some 
 fine old tune, such as Balerma, Boylston, Duke Street, 
 Siloam, and others. 
 
 This man was always something of a mystery to me. 
 All conceded him to be an able pulpit man indeed, one 
 far above the average. Moreover, he was universally 
 esteemed and liked. Those who knew him best, and 
 were best qualified to judge, could but wonder why 
 he was not filling a high salaried pulpit in some large 
 city. As it was he lived on a rather poor farm and 
 preached wherever, and whenever, opportunity offered. 
 I have since learned that he was a Presbyterian mis- 
 sionary and conscientiously believed the field he was 
 working in afforded him ample opportunities to do 
 good, and unquestionably he did it. 
 
 Another type was a Baptist minister who frequently 
 occupied the pulpit on off Sundays. His sermons were 
 thoughtful and carefully written out. These he deliv- 
 ered, or rather read, in a conversational tone and never 
 raised his eyes from his manuscript. This man's man- 
 ner and methods were in striking contrast to the vigor- 
 ous delivery and ringing words of practically all the 
 preachers of the day. 
 
 The Sabbath School at this church was non-denomi- 
 national and was known as a Union Sunday School. 
 It had a little library of books published by the Ameri- 
 can Union Sunday School Publishing Association of 
 Philadelphia ; and while some of these were of the sickly 
 kind where the willful boy always goes to the everlast- 
 ing bow-wows and the goody-goody boy always meets 
 with success and grows up to be governor of his State, 
 yet for the most part, the books were well selected and 
 were interesting, and helpful to young ' people. This
 
 "Visit to the Hive", Frontispiece in "The Hive 
 and its Wonders", a small volume published hy 
 the American Sunday School Union in 1851.
 
 I Acknowledge My Obligations 75 
 
 publishing house also printed a little paper, and I shall 
 always remember the picture at the top of its first 
 page a neat little church with a graceful spire and 
 a comely woman leading a little boy with one hand and 
 a little girl with the other, all evidently going to Sab- 
 bath School. This Union Sunday School certainly filled 
 what would otherwise have been a hiatus in the lives 
 of the young people of the village, and I take pleasure 
 in acknowledging my obligations to it.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SPORTS, AMUSEMENTS AND SOME OTHER THINGS. 
 
 Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, 
 
 Seats of my youth, when every sport could please ! 
 * * ****** 
 
 How often have I blessed the coming day, 
 When toil remitting, lent its turn to play. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 I had rather have a Tool to make me merry, 
 Than experience to make me sad. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Amusements were few and simple and foremost 
 among these, for the men folks, was hunting, for there 
 was yet much small game in the country. In quest of 
 this, half-grown boys, not a few young men, and cer- 
 tain grown-ups, who had the hunting instinct ingrained 
 in their natures, found much satisfaction. 
 
 My native village of Pocahontas was in the edge of 
 the timber. To the west Looking-Glass prairie extended 
 far as the eye could reach; to the east was the "forest 
 primeval" that lay on either side of Shoal Creek. On 
 the prairie were great numbers of prairie chickens. In 
 the timber were many squirrels, a few wild turkeys 
 and in the early fifties, at certain times, the branches 
 of the trees would bend and sometimes even break under 
 the weight of thousands of wild pigeons. Babbits and 
 quail, usually called "partridges", could be found in 
 plenty, both in the prairie and timber. 
 
 A few deer were left and there was an occasional 
 (76)
 
 Old Billy Reems and His Hounds 77 
 
 old hunter who kept deer hounds. One of these hunt- 
 ers I shall never forget, Old Billy Eeems, as he was 
 familiarly called. He was famous for the great amount 
 of larger game that current report credited him with 
 having slain. I shall never forget a village scene in 
 which Old Billy was the central figure. The scene was 
 staged one Saturday afternoon in October, when a 
 few farmers, on one errand and another, had come in 
 from their homes this one for his mail, that one for 
 some needed supplies, the other to fulfill an engage- 
 ment, and all, to meet and greet their neighbors and 
 gather the latest community gossip. Presently the 
 sound of a horn was heard and all ears and eyes became 
 intent. In a little while Old Billy Reems was seen ap- 
 proaching on one of the timber roads. In a moment he 
 had halted in front of the village store where most of 
 the men were gathered. In front of him and across 
 the withers of his horse was a deer. Across the pommel 
 of the saddle was a Kentucky rifle, its butt held in the 
 hunter's hand while in his other was the bridle rein. 
 Under his left elbow suspended by a leather strap was 
 a powderhorn and leather bulletpouch. Under his right 
 elbow was an ox-horn whose reverberations put new 
 life in the deer hounds, several of which soon gathered 
 about their master. They were all yellow in color, slen- 
 der in form and cadaverous looking in appearance. 
 Their barking was deep toned and characteristic, so 
 that the term "baying of the hounds" has come to be 
 almost classical. 
 
 Dressed in his "hunting shirt", his trusty rifle and 
 latest conquest' in front of him, his accoutrements in 
 proper place, the hounds at ease, Old Billy Beems,
 
 78 Loading the Pioneer's Gun 
 
 proud as any conqueror, made a picture for the pen of 
 a Cooper. 
 
 The older men still clung to the Kentucky squirrel 
 rifle, some of which yet had flint locks, but the newer 
 generation nearly all had shotguns, most of which were 
 double-barreled. The stores all carried in stock powder, 
 shot and percussion caps. Cartridges had not yet come 
 in use, and in loading a charge of powder was first 
 poured into the muzzle of the gun. On the powder a 
 piece of paper was pressed down firmly by the butt end 
 of the ram-rod, and on this was placed a charge of 
 shot, held in place by a piece of newspaper pressed 
 firmly down as before. Meantime, a few grains of pow- 
 der found its way out through the tube where it came 
 in contact with the contents of the percussion cap and 
 all that was needed to discharge the gun, was the sharp 
 stroke from the hammer of the gunlock. 
 
 Loading a rifle was not so easy as loading a shotgun 
 for the reason that a patch had to be put round the 
 bullet. To make the patch a strong piece of cotton 
 cloth was "tallowed" on its under side and placed 
 over the muzzle and upon this the bullet was laid and 
 pressed down till even with the top of the gun-barrel. 
 Then with a sharp knife the cloth was cut off, the bul- 
 let thus covered was pushed to the bottom of the gun- 
 barrel where it rested on the charge of powder. The 
 powder was poured into the palm of the hand and the 
 amount needed was measured by the eye. However, 
 for this purpose there came in vogue later a measure 
 made of brass and about the size of one's little finger. 
 
 Sometimes there were shooting-matches, at which 
 prizes of some kind would be awarded the best marks- 
 men. And occasionally a gun contest of another char-
 
 A Hunting Contest 79 
 
 acter would occur: All those in the neighborhood de- 
 siring a day's hunt would divide into two equal parties 
 and to each of these a certain specifically denned local- 
 ity was assigned and in this the individuals named were 
 to hunt, and no others. When night came, all were to 
 report with the day's product at the village tavern. 
 The final result was determined by a simple computa- 
 tion in addition. Let it be surmised that each bird or 
 animal represented so many points say a rabbit 5, a 
 squirrel 10, a quail 20, a prairie chicken 50, a wild 
 turkey 100, a deer 500, and so on through the list of 
 game. Thus it can easily be seen that the side footing 
 up the largest number of points would be declared the 
 winner and would have to foot the bill for a dinner 
 or supper, or pay some other forfeit. 
 
 Football and baseball, as played today, were unknown 
 games. What was known as townball, however, was a 
 popular sport. This was played with a yarn ball cov- 
 ered with leather, or a hollow, inflated rubber ball, both 
 of which were soft and yielding and not likely to in- 
 flict injury as is so common today in baseball. Town- 
 ball was much played in the schoolhouse yard during 
 recess and at the noon hour. 
 
 Sometimes there was an exhibition by a traveling 
 showman who, in a wagon or other vehicle, transported 
 his curios and other attractions and appliances from 
 village to village. I recall one of these who had two 
 mummies which he advertised as an Egyptian King and 
 Queen. So common as are electric batteries today it 
 seems strange to recall that they were so rare two gen- 
 erations ago that showmen took them around and 
 greatly pleased their audiences by permitting certain 
 fortunate ones to "take shocks". In connection with
 
 The Sewing Society 
 
 this exhibition the working of Morse's electric tele- 
 graph, then a recent invention, was explained. I re- 
 member one showman with long, heavy whiskers, and 
 as almost every one shaved closely, his appearance was 
 unique and attracted much attention, as he doubtless 
 intended it should. 
 
 A source of no little social pleasure was the Ladies' 
 Sewing Society, whose members met on certain speci- 
 fied afternoons at one of the neighbors', where they 
 would get busy with their needles and tongues. The 
 sewing machine had not yet come in use and conse- 
 quently all sewing was done by hand. What the women 
 of the local organization did was simple, and consisted 
 for the most part in making underwear and men's 
 working clothes. However, they marketed their prod- 
 uct at a fair profit and the proceeds were devoted to 
 sundry commendable things. Maybe the parsonage was 
 in need of a new carpet or possibly some worthy, strug- 
 gling widow was in need of a cookstove. About the 
 middle of the fifties the organization put forth unusual 
 efforts and made enough to purchase a small circulating 
 library, a great need in the community. The women 
 would sew till supper time, when husbands, brothers 
 and fathers would come in and all sat down to an 
 enjoyable evening meal. After supper two or three 
 hours would be spent in social intercourse. Sometimes 
 the organization would conduct a sort of newspaper 
 managed by the Society's secretary, and to which any 
 one was at liberty to contribute. At stated times the 
 contributions were read aloud, and, as the name of the 
 writer was in all cases withheld, they excited no little 
 interest and curiosity. 
 
 At one of these gatherings at the home of a promi-
 
 Some Old-Time Songs 81 
 
 nent citizen the guests were seated one evening after 
 supper, when all at once the host's only daughter came 
 in on the arm of her lover and took a position in front 
 of a minister who was present, and who in due time 
 pronounced the couple man and wife. To the great 
 majority of those assembled all this was as "lightning 
 from a clear sky". 
 
 Sometimes all would join in singing some popular 
 melody, such as "Blue Juniata", "Last Rose of Sum- 
 mer", "The Prairie Flower", "Nellie Gray", "Sweet 
 Home", and "Lilly Dale". Not a few of these songs 
 were sad. I recall four lines of "Lilly Dale": 
 
 " 'Twas a calm, still night, and the moon's pale light 
 
 Shone soft o'er hill apd dale, 
 
 When friends mute with grief stood around the death-bed 
 Of my poor lost Lilly Dale." 
 
 I recall the first two and last two lines of "Blue Ju- 
 niata ' ' : 
 
 "Wild roved an Indian girl, bright Elpharata, 
 
 Where sweep the waters of the Blue Juniata. 
 ******* 
 
 Fleeting years have born away the voice of Elpharata ; 
 Still sweep the waters of the Blue Juniata." 
 
 As elsewhere stated, there were practically no pianos 
 or cottage organs in those days, but in the late fifties 
 there was a young man who sometimes added the melo- 
 dious tones of his flute to the music made by the voices 
 of the singers. 
 
 Right or wrong, yet the fact remains that very many 
 people went to church for diversion and entertainment. 
 This was markedly true during protracted meetings.
 
 82 A "Jerusalem Fiddle" 
 
 On certain festive occasions the blacksmith's anvils 
 were loaded with powder and when this was ignited a 
 tremendous noise resulted. Sometimes the boys would 
 bore holes in logs, put in powder, drive in a peg with a 
 groove on one side, then fix a fuse and get away to a 
 safe distance, while the powder ignited and burst the 
 log open with an almost deafening sound. 
 
 At other times, after night youngsters would get tur- 
 pentine, and soak in this balls of candle-wick, set these 
 on fire and throw them from one to another. Under 
 such circumstances turpentine burns with a slow flame 
 that does not injure the hand, if held for a short while 
 only. 
 
 In the early fifties charivaris ("chivarees") were in 
 vogue and on more than one occasion the night all 
 about would be made hideous with unearthly noise for 
 thei benefit of some young man and woman who had 
 just taken a solemn vow to love and cherish each other. 
 A popular noise producer at a charivari was the "Je- 
 rusalem Fiddle", which was made by removing the top 
 from a large dry-goods box and rubbing rosin plenti- 
 fully on the up-standing edges, across which the flat 
 side of a long scantling, also well rosined, was drawn to 
 and fro. The noise resulting was hideous and like 
 nothing else outside of Bedlam. 
 
 House raisings, barn raisings and corn huskings all 
 served to get the people together ; and on such occasions 
 there were nearly always bountiful dinners. One of 
 these I attended when a boy./ The table was spread 
 under the trees in the yard, and was made by putting 
 planks on trestles and covering these with tablecloths, 
 some of which neighbors supplied. This extemporized 
 table fairly "groaned beneath the load" of food put
 
 A Long Menu 83 
 
 upon it. Of the ample supply of good things to eat at 
 such times and from which the good housewives of those 
 days drew at appropriate seasons to spread the hos- 
 pitable board for everybody, my boyhood recollections 
 contain a list something like the following : Fresh beef, 
 fresh pork, venison, prairie chicken, wild turkey, fried 
 chicken, fried eggs, broiled ham, Irish potatoes, sweet 
 potatoes, turnips, snap beans, butter beans, onions, cab- 
 bage, roasting ears, egg bread, corn bread, wheat bread, 
 biscuits, buckwheat cakes, fritters, stewed peaches, 
 stewed apples, stewed tomatoes, stewed pumpkin, baked 
 squash, quince preserves, plum preserves, pear preserves, 
 apple pie, pumpkin pie, peach cobbler, cream pudding, 
 maple syrup, honey, peaches, sweet cream, doughnuts, 
 poundcake, sweet milk, buttermilk, clabber, sweet cider, 
 coffee and tea. 
 
 One of the never-to-be-forgotten sights of the fifties 
 was Donati's comet, which in the late summer and early 
 autumn of 1858 filled nearly the whole of the northwest 
 heavens. Much was written about the comet before it 
 made its appearance and very naturally much was said 
 about it after it came. Some believed it meant that the 
 end of the world was 1 near and others said it was a 
 sign that we would soon have a bloody war. However, 
 the great majority accepted the comet of 1858 as one 
 of nature's wonders and one whose like they would 
 never again be permitted to see. Gray-haired men and 
 women of today still talk of the wonderful comet of 
 their childhood that came about the time of the great 
 Lincoln-Douglas debate. 
 
 In the early fifties a sort of epidemic of " spirit- 
 rappings", " table-turnings" or "table-rappings", as 
 it was severally called, swept over Illinois. Spirit-rap-
 
 84 Spirit-Rappings 
 
 pings started in and near Rochester, New York, and 
 from there extended over the entire land. When I was 
 a small boy I was present on two or three occasions 
 when older people would gather about a bare table, and 
 after seating themselves all would lay their extended 
 hands upon it. Then some one would gravely ask ques- 
 tion after question which it was proposed the spirits 
 should answer with a specified number of raps or 
 knocks. 
 
 But the spirits invariably refused to answer any of 
 the questions propounded, and not a rap or knock of 
 any kind was heard. But notwithstanding this lack of 
 spirit manifestation, for several years during the fifties 
 certain people persisted in holding these meetings, usu- 
 ally at private houses.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE VILLAGE LYCEUM AND SOME LOCAL PETTIFOGGERS. 
 
 i 
 
 Leave these keen encounter of our wits, 
 And fall somewhat into a slower method. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Your pettifoggers dam their souls, 
 To share with knaves in cheating fools. 
 
 Butler. 
 Even though vanquished he could argue still. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 One of the institutions of the village was its Lyceum, 
 the sessions of which occurred once a week, during cool 
 weather, in the schoolhouse. Here heat was furnished 
 from two wood-stoves and light from candles which 
 were made to stand alone by putting the free end in 
 melted tallow dropped from the* burning end on the desk 
 and allowed to harden. 
 
 Every man of good character was eligible to mem- 
 bership and many of the villagers enrolled their names. 
 The officers consisted of a president, vice-president, sec- 
 retary and treasurer. Following were some of the top- 
 ics discussed, or rather subjects debated: "Resolved, 
 that African slavery should be abolished in the United 
 States". "Resolved, that polygamy is a greater evil 
 than African slavery". "Resolved, that the sale of 
 alcoholic beverages should be prohibited". "Resolved, 
 that the repeal of the Missouri Compromise is a menace 
 to the perpetuity of the national union". "Resolved, 
 that there is more satisfaction in pursuit than in pos- 
 
 (85)
 
 86 Types of Debaters 
 
 session". "Resolved, that the discovery of California 
 gold has proved more of a curse than a blessing to this 
 country". "Resolved, that the right of suffrage should 
 be granted to women". 
 
 Some member would move that a certain subject be 
 the one named for discussion at the next meeting, and 
 upon the adoption of this motion, two polemics were 
 appointed whose duty it was to select their assistants, 
 and lead in the discussion. All the members would be 
 chosen on one or the other side. However, no one was 
 permitted to speak longer than ten minutes; but as a 
 matter of fact, few speakers used up the time allowed, 
 for, save the Methodist preacher and three or four pet- 
 tifoggers, all were amateurs. When the evening came 
 for the debate the polemics made the opening talks and 
 were followed in turn by other speakers. Strict par- 
 liamentary rules Avere sought to be enforced. 
 
 These debates were always well attended, as it was 
 interesting to see and hear the speakers. A certain 
 wordy village pettifogger, not infrequently manifested 
 a disposition to be arrogant and overbearing. The 
 preacher, considerate and deferential, expressed his 
 thoughts in well-chosen words and had the happy fac- 
 ulty of knowing when he was through. The principal 
 of the village school, poetical in temperament and gifted 
 in speech, nearly always spoke with great earnestness, 
 especially if the subject under debate gave him oppor- 
 tunity to picture the horrors of slavery or the evils of 
 the liquor traffic two questions near his heart. The 
 chief citizen of the village, a little pompous in bearing, 
 always spoke in measured terms, seemingly impressed 
 with the thought that his words carried unusual weight 
 and authority. The village wit, with a grave, imper-
 
 Abolitionists and Prohibitionists 87 
 
 turbable countenance, labored under the handicap of 
 having his most serious, carefully-worded thoughts in- 
 terpreted as funny. The modest, timid youth, who was 
 about to make his maiden speech, won the general sym- 
 pathy when he arose and in a trembling voice said a 
 few words, blushed, forgot most of what he had in mind, 
 blushed a deeper red than ever, and sat down. There 
 was also the man who was never disturbed, because he 
 had more brass than brains, and who, with the utmost 
 composure, would expose his ignorance by making blun- 
 der after blunder, and in the end, sacrifice everything 
 but his equipoise. These Lyceum debates revealed the 
 fact that there were full-fledged abolitionists resident in 
 the village, and this at a time when the mere word was 
 deemed a reproach, so great was the influence of the 
 upholders of African slavery, even in the free state of 
 Illinois, Furthermore, they showed that in the com- 
 munity were total abstainers who, if they could have 
 had their way, would have poured in the Atlantic Ocean 
 all the intoxicating beverages in existence. 
 
 One of the chief village functionaries was the squire, 
 or justice of the peace, and his office was not infre- 
 quently the arena where the neighborhood pettifoggers 
 fought their wordy battles. One of the last named was 
 a very large, corpulent, round-faced man of few words, 
 spoken in a heavy voice, who always seemed to think 
 that his avoirdupois and solemnity would and should 
 carry verdicts his way. That he was frequently disap- 
 pointed, goes without saying. 
 
 The heavyweight had his antipode in another local 
 pettifogger, a tall, lean, raw-boned man, with long legs 
 and arms, a hooked nose, and angular features. He
 
 88 Some Village Pettifoggers 
 
 was fluent in speech, vehement in manner and his words 
 were not infrequently acrid and bitter. 
 
 A third pettifogger, who sometimes appeared in the 
 justice's court, seemed in his youth to have been im- 
 pressed with the idea that long hair was an unfailing 
 mark of genius and consequently he allowed his un- 
 certain-hued, tangled locks to grow till they nearly 
 reached his shoulders, and this when short-cropped hair 
 was the fashion. This man was anything but fluent. 
 His words seemed to come with much labor and, as if 
 to make up for this, he was in the habit of violently 
 "shaking his mane" when speaking. 
 
 Another specimen of the neighborhood pettifogger 
 class was absolutely unique. He was by far the home- 
 liest man I ever saw. Indeed, he was more than homely ; 
 he was repulsively ugly. His eyes were very large and 
 seemed to be half out of their sockets. His nose was 
 abnormally small and his lower jaw protruded far be- 
 yond its fellow. The skin on his face was rough and 
 mottled. In a word his countenance was hideous. His 
 protruding eyeballs secured for him the nickname 
 "Pop-Eye". It was said this man could not read a 
 word, yet he was well informed, and in native wisdom 
 and homely wit was almost a modern Esop. 
 
 I shall never forget one case in which this man figured. 
 One of the village merchants found it necessary to sue 
 for an unpaid bill a patron who was a relative of this 
 unattractive pettifogger and who, very naturally, em- 
 ployed his kinsman in the defense. Associated with him 
 was the lean, fluent pettifogger above described. The 
 prosecution was put in the hands of a young man in 
 the village, who had just completed his law studies, 
 and who had to assist him an old, experienced lawyer
 
 "A Pair of Jims" 89 
 
 from the county seat. It so happened that the first 
 name of both the pettifoggers was James, familiarly 
 abbreviated to "Jim". A number of times during the 
 trial, the old lawyer facetiously referred to the oppos- 
 ing counsel as a "pair of Jims" and a "pair" they 
 certainly were ! But for this bit of sarcastic pleasantry 
 at their expense, the pair were destined to get more 
 than even. The merchant's claim was just, the whole 
 course pursued by the defendant was reprehensible and 
 his daughter on the witness stand undoubtedly perjured 
 herself, though this may have been unwittingly. Yet it 
 soon became apparent that the tide was against the 
 prosecution, who, in a fit of desperation, put the young 
 attorney (the chief prosecutor) on the witness stand 
 where he testified that the young woman had sworn to 
 a lie. As might have been predicted, this turned out to 
 be a boomerang for the prosecution, and when one of 
 the "pair of Jims", he of the big eyes and repulsive 
 features, got up to speak, he literally impaled the young 
 attorney ; and in the course of his eloquent appeal said 
 that history had repeated itself, that in his zeal Abra- 
 ham (the old, experienced attorney) had offered up the 
 young man (the youthful attorney). This application 
 of a well-known scriptural incident was so apt and in 
 point, that the jury found for the defendant, very much 
 to the regret and disappointment of the merchant. That 
 the old lawyer was chagrined and the young one deeply 
 mortified hardly needs to be stated.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 AN OLD-TIME WATER MILL. 
 
 I hear the clatter that jars its walls, 
 
 And the rushing water's sound, 
 And I see the black floats rise and fall 
 
 As the wheel goes slowly round. 
 
 Thomas Dunn English. 
 
 In my boyhood days I was never happier than when 
 seated astride a horse with a sack of wheat or shelled 
 corn under me and the bridle rein in hand, I started 
 on the road that led to the watermill on Shoal Creek, 
 two miles distant from the village. This mill was 
 owned by a man named Seaver and was of a type very 
 common two generations ago a gristmill and a saw- 
 mill under the same roof. Let us in imagination pay 
 this old mill a visit, say on a June morning when all 
 nature is alive and in the prime of its beauty. 
 
 The building is a crude structure with the main floor 
 on a level with the bank of the creek, having in one end 
 an up-and-down saw which is slowly eating its way 
 through a log in an endeavor to transform it into lum- 
 ber, and in the other end a pair of stones is with equal 
 deliberation transforming shelled corn into meal. A dam 
 across the creek makes a sufficient head of water to turn 
 the wheels; one an undershot, horizontal wheel, with a 
 crank on one end of its axle, communicates an up-and- 
 down motion to the saw; the other, a rude prototype of 
 the turbine, is at the lower end of an upright shaft and 
 at the bottom of a deep, barrel-like frame of strong 
 (90)
 
 Brown's Mill on Shoal Creek, Bond County. Patronized by the author 
 in his youth. (Courtesy Dr. D. R. Wilkins)
 
 Rude But Not liwfticient 91 
 
 boards, into which the water is admitted to set in mo- 
 tion the wheel whose axle extends to the main story 
 and causes the upper millstone to revolve and crush the 
 grain between it and the lower stone, which remains 
 stationary. 
 
 The machinery about the mill is crude and substan- 
 tially all of wood, mainly ash, oak and hickory. There 
 are wooden axles, wooden cogs, wooden pinions, wooden 
 shafts, wooden levers; a wooden frame for the saw, and 
 a wooden carriage to move the log against the teeth of 
 the saw, during its up-and-down motion. Lard is the 
 lubricant used to prevent friction between the parts in 
 motion. But despite the efforts at lubrication a great 
 deal of friction occurred. And, as though the parts 
 involved experienced great pain, there was no end of 
 ear-splitting complaint creaking of a kind that resem- 
 bled groans, sighs and cries of anguish. Throughout 
 the whole of its structure the old mill shook and trem- 
 bled like a man afflicted with palsy. 
 
 Yonder is slowly coming a great log behind a heavy, 
 strong cart drawn by several yokes of panting oxen. 
 The wheels of the cart are ten feet high and its felloes, 
 spokes, hubs and axle strong and durable in proportion. 
 Heavy log chains and a screw and lever attachment 
 afford mechanical means for lifting up one end of the 
 log and securing it under the strong axle, while the 
 other drags on the ground. 
 
 Turning from the means and appliances used for mov- 
 ing sawlogs, a farmer is seen approaching and in his 
 wagon are sundry sacks of wheat and shelled corn. The 
 sacks and their contents are put in charge of the miller, 
 the oxen unhitched from the wagon and allowed to 
 browse, while the farmer, who seems to have some of the
 
 92 Going to MUL 
 
 tastes of Izaak Walton, decides to try his luck fishing 
 for perch and sunfish in the swift-running millrace. A 
 stout young hickory, growing on the banks of the creek, 
 makes a convenient fishing pole ; and a spade borrowed 
 from the miller turns up the earth, made rich by rotting 
 sawdust, and reveals the needed supply of fish-worms 
 for bait. 
 
 Next comes a bare-headed, freckled-faced, ten-year- 
 old boy, astride a sack of corn on an old, sway-backed 
 horse, as slow and patient as long service and a natu- 
 rally good disposition can make a faithful domestic ani- 
 mal. The boy is green and diffident and the miller is 
 gruff and harsh of speech. But coming to mill is one 
 of the boy's few opportunities for getting away from 
 the tedium of the farm, so he gladly faces the stern 
 countenance and severe manner of the miller for the 
 privilege of "going to mill". Henry Clay in his boy- 
 hood, it is said, went to mill in the same way and so 
 frequently that he came to be known as ' ' the mill boy of 
 the slashes". While waiting for his grist the boy's 
 time was his own, and with the old roan securely tied, 
 he could do what he wished. The rude machinery he 
 enjoyed seeing. The mechanism by which circular mo- 
 tion became converted into horizontal or perpendicular 
 motion, and vice versa, were unfailing sources of inter- 
 est. Just above the mill was the millpond, with its 
 deep water that served all the men and boys who were 
 expert swimmers as a place to bathe and swim. Down 
 the creek below the mill was shallow water for those 
 who were not swimmers. At one edge of the millpond 
 and fastened by a chain to an exposed root was a canoe 
 made from a great elm log. Overhanging the opposite 
 bank were young willows, with their drooping branches
 
 The "Suck-Hole" 93 
 
 dipping their fresh young leaves in the water. A little 
 back from the water's edge was the great white trunk 
 of a sycamore, that above spread out its branches upon 
 which were immense broad leaves. The lower portion 
 of the trunk was hollow and, beginning at the ground 
 at one side of the tree, was an opening that a man could 
 walk into. Below the mill was the bridge across which 
 the main stage road led eastward from the village. This 
 bridge was made wholly of wood, for as yet iron and 
 stone were not used in this new locality in the building 
 of such structures. Farther down the creek was the 
 mysterious "suck-hole", wherein three men and two 
 boys had been drowned, all of whom were good swim- 
 mers. And near this spot of evil repute the creek made 
 a sudden turn and, after flowing at a right angle to its 
 former course for a time, doubled back, and having 
 reached the line of its former channel, again flowed 
 south. The loop thus formed was known as "Horseshoe 
 Bend", and among the early settlers was a well-known 
 landmark. 
 
 At the lower end of the bend was a great drift run- 
 ning out into the stream, and made up of debris of all 
 kinds logs, brush, fence rails, pieces of boards, corn- 
 stalks, bunches of loose straw, and in fact nearly every 
 object that sometime before had floated down in the 
 freshet, all lodged against a great, uprooted tree that 
 had been caught and anchored by some obstruction in 
 the middle of the stream. A most fit harbor was this 
 drift for certain forms of reptilian life. Watersnakes 
 found a congenial home in its interspaces. Snapping 
 turtles crawled up on the logs, sunned themselves, and 
 at the approach of supposed danger, suddenly dived 
 into the water with a noisy plunk. From the intrica-
 
 Had Nine Lives 
 
 cies of the drift, great bull frogs made the bottom re- 
 sound with their deep bass. 
 
 But the miller has had time to grind the farmer- 
 fisherman's grain and that of the bare-footed boy of 
 promise, as well. Both man and boy come up the bank 
 to the mill with a string of fish in their hands. Each 
 of these is impaled on a stick that after passing under 
 the gills of the fish is run out at its mouth. Fortu- 
 nately, save one, the fish are all lifeless. The exception 
 is a channel cat which, like its namesake, had nine lives 
 and notwithstanding its tortures, flounced its tail vig- 
 orously in earnest protest. The man's grist was ready 
 and the miller, having taken out his toll, put the re- 
 mainder in the wagon behind the oxen. Strange to say, 
 three times as many sacks were needed for the products 
 of the wheat as were required to bring that cereal to 
 the mill. The increase was not in quantity, but quality. 
 Where there had been only wheat, there now was flour, 
 bran, and shorts. The timid boy's grist was ready too,, 
 though little cared he had the whole day been taken in 
 grinding his one sack of corn ; for the old mill and all 
 about it were of perennial interest to him. It is now 
 not far from midday and the sun is warm, indeed, al- 
 most hot. In the back yard of the house in which the 
 miller lives is a famous well at which for many years 
 the thirst of man and beast had been quenched. It is 
 within the yard fence and just off the main traveled 
 road from whence it is in plain sight and upon which 
 a stranger is seen approaching on horseback. The well 
 was walled up with rock taken from a nearby hill-side, 
 and over its top was a curb of rough, warped boards. 
 Projecting from one side of the curb is the crank which 
 turns the windlass, about which wound the rope and
 
 The "Old-Oaken Bucket" 95 
 
 chain attached to the well bucket. To empty any water 
 that might be in the bucket is the work of a moment. 
 Then dropping it over the well and pressing your hand 
 on the windlass, as a sort of brake, you let the rope 
 unwind and soon the bucket reaches the water at the 
 bottom. 
 
 A few turns of the crank and the bucket is at the 
 surface, where it is lifted to the edge of the curb and 
 balanced while man, boy and stranger put their lips to 
 its margin and slake their thirst; and to each and all 
 of these this seems like the nectar of the gods. Man, 
 boy and stranger are hot and thirsty and are alike in 
 blissful ignorance of disease germs and parasites. Mean- 
 while, oxen, horse and sway-backed roan have satisfied 
 their thirst at the trough, and with driver and riders 
 in their places and started on the road to the village, 
 they soon reach the foot of the hill that led up the side 
 of Shoal Creek bluff. The hill was long, steep and far 
 and wide was known as Hackberry Hill, taking its name 
 from a large tree of that name that for long stood 
 about half way up its ascent. This tree finally went 
 down in a wind storm and all that now remained of it 
 was its ragged stump. 
 
 What a history Hackberry Hill could have revealed 
 had it only been gifted with the power of speech ! How 
 many teamsters had stopped at its brow to "lock" the 
 wagon by securing one wheel with the lock-chain ! How 
 many drivers had stopped at its foot to give their teams 
 a rest, before attempting to climb its steep sides ! After 
 heavy rains, how great the number of wheels that had 
 mired down in its soft, red clay! How many people 
 in vehicles had shuddered at starting down its steep 
 declivity ! More than one harness had given way, more
 
 96 The Pioneer 
 
 than one neckyoke had broken, more than one life had 
 gone out in attempting the drive down Hackberry Hill. 
 Upon its brow, at the roadside, was a mound upon which 
 sturdy young hickories were growing, and beneath 
 which a number of Indian braves were buried. Driving 
 or riding past this mound at night more than one youth- 
 ful traveler had felt a strange, indescribable feeling 
 under his hat, akin to one's hair rising on end. Tor- 
 tured with less gruesome feelings the more mature 
 passer-by had his thoughts revert to the pioneers, when 
 
 "Around their huts the wily Indian crept, 
 
 His shaft as sudden as the serpent's sting, 
 And many a weary mother, as she slept, 
 
 Was startled by the war-whoop's dismal ring, 
 The hiss of arrow and the twang of string, 
 
 Or the fierce tumult of the savage horde, 
 Beneath the wood in their wild jargoning; 
 
 And many a cabin by the torch was lowered, 
 And many a father's blood around his altar poured. 
 
 "Death came in many forms, the vengeful snake 
 
 Unloosed its venom with unerring aim, 
 The burly blackbear loitered in the brake, 
 
 And nightly to the hill the panther came, 
 And stealthily outstretched its agile frame, 
 
 To watch and seize the unresisting prey; 
 Aye, there were perils more than tongue can name, 
 
 That compassed these old foresters, yet they 
 With souls of flint, toiled on, thro' all that twilight gray."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SCHOOLS, SCHOLAES AND TEACHERS. 
 
 Beside yon struggling fence that skirts the way, 
 
 With blossom'd furze unprofitable way, 
 There in his noisy mansion skilled to rule, 
 
 The village master taught his little school 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Said the master to the youth, 
 We have come- in search of truth. 
 
 Whittier. 
 Seraphs share with thee knowledge. . . . 
 
 Schiller. 
 
 My first recollection is of a prairie home and a two- 
 story, unpainted frame house where I first saw the light 
 of day. Hard by was the cabin where my older broth- 
 ers and sisters were born, and to the west was the al- 
 most boundless extent of Looking Glass prairie, a ver- 
 itable wilderness of blue-stem (prairie grass). 
 
 In the fall of 1848, my father and his neighbors real- 
 izing that their children were in need of educational 
 advantages, and, no schoolhouse being near, decided to 
 improvise one. Following out this idea they concluded 
 to utilize the old cabin that stood in my father's or- 
 chard. Accordingly the neighbors got busy and a log 
 schoolhouse was the result. 
 
 At the middle of one side was a door that swung on 
 wooden hinges, fastened with a wooden latch and had 
 the proverbial latch-string hanging on the outside. A 
 very large chimney, made of sticks and clay, occupied 
 
 (97)
 
 98 A Make-Shift School House 
 
 the greater part of one end of the structure, and a log 
 cut out of the other end and a row of window panes 
 set edge to edge in the opening, made a long window 
 opposite the fireplace. Thus was this log schoolhouse 
 given the three essentials of heat, light and ingress and 
 egress. 
 
 But how about seats and desks? This need the rude 
 workman promptly supplied. Immediately under the 
 window large auger holes were bored, in these strong 
 oak pegs were driven and on them was placed a long, 
 wide, unplaned board. In the rounded sides of slabs 
 other large auger holes, were bored and other strong 
 pegs driven which served for legs when the slabs, now 
 transformed into seats, were turned with their flattened 
 surfaces uppermost. Several of these slab seats were 
 placed along the walls and others in the center of the 
 room. The "master" (teacher) occupied a split-bot- 
 tom chair and in front of him was a candle-stand. This 
 teacher was an Irishman who bore the famous name 
 O 'Conner, and like Goldsmith, his gifted countryman, 
 he played the flute. This was the first instrumental 
 music I ever heard, and no orchestra that I have since 
 listened to has charmed my ears as did the simple tones 
 of O 'Conner's flute. 
 
 O 'Conner was a lame man who walked with a crutch 
 under one arm and a cane in his free hand. From some 
 cause the growth of one leg and foot had been arrested 
 in childhood and the affected member was only about 
 half the size and length of the other. His little foot 
 and short leg dangling at the side of the other when 
 he walked, was always a curious sight to my eyes. 
 
 Of long winter evenings, when all would be seated 
 before a huge wood fire, my mother sewing or knitting,
 
 Pioneer Log School House. 
 
 bs, Urbana, 111.) 
 
 Slab-Seat with Diagram for Playing Game of Fox 
 and Geese. ( Courtesy 4 MtSf."Cf.'^f ."ttSfls, Urbana, 111.)
 
 Pioneer Hospitality 99 
 
 my father with book in hand making himself comfort- 
 able after a day out in the cold winter weather, my 
 sisters engaged with their lessons, the cat contentedly 
 purring on the hearth, and last, but not least, the 
 teacher in "done-up" white shirt and "store-clothes", 
 had the place of honor, his crutch beside him and his 
 short leg hanging from the chair, and a little time be- 
 fore all went to bed, maybe, would begin playing some 
 old melody on his flute, then and there I realized that 
 Paradise had come to me. 
 
 In its way the lame Irishman's school was popular 
 and pupils came to it from far and near, some of them 
 young men six feet tall. Those of the latter who lived 
 at a distance were occasionally weatherbound, and in 
 such emergencies would seek and find shelter under my 
 father's always hospitable roof. Think of it! Only 
 two rooms in which father, mother and five children, 
 ranging from a babe in arms to a girl just budding 
 into womanhood, and yet room was found for the 
 teacher who boarded with us ! Then, when a hard storm 
 came unexpectedly, room was somehow, somewhere, 
 found for one, perhaps two and possibly three addi- 
 tional human beings in those already overcrowded two 
 rooms, situated away out on the wind-swept, storm- 
 visited prairie. 
 
 'Conner's was the first school I attended, and the 
 first day a new, blue-backed "Webster's Spelling Book 
 was placed in my hands and opened at the page where 
 were several perpendicular rows of the twenty-six let- 
 ters of the alphabet. To prevent soiling the book a 
 thumb-paper was given me. This was a piece of square 
 paper, folded on itself several times and inserted be- 
 tween my thumb and the page. The first thing a child
 
 100 Foolscap and Goosequills 
 
 was taught was its letters and I remember with what 
 trepidation I walked up to the teacher and stood before 
 him, while with pencil or pen-knife he pointed out and 
 named the various letters of the alphabet. 
 
 In due time the winter of 1848-9 came to an end, as 
 likewise did O 'Conner's term of school. In the early 
 spring we moved to the near-by 1 village from whence 
 a little later my father started on his long journey to 
 California. Here another log building, the discarded 
 residence of one of, my uncles, was the schoolhouse 
 where I went to school the following summer and win- 
 ter. The lady teacher of the summer school is yet alive 
 and a ripe octogenarian. My teacher in the winter 
 term, a young lawyer, died last year lacking but little 
 of becoming a centenarian. 
 
 One of the hardest things for children of my genera- 
 tion to master, was penmanship. Steel pens had not 
 yet been introduced into general use and one of the 
 duties of the teacher was, with his pen-knife, to fashion 
 pens for his pupils from goosequills. Every pupil was 
 expected to bring goosequills from his home, as nearly 
 everyone kept geese from whose wings quills could be 
 plucked at any time. No little of the ink in use in that 
 day was made by dissolving copperas in water in which 
 oak bark had been soaked. The tannin in the bark com- 
 bining with the sulphate of iron (copperas) produced 
 a beautiful black ink. At the village store foolscap 
 paper could always be purchased. This was in size 
 about eight inches by fourteen, was ruled and generally 
 of a blue tinge. Upon the first line of one of these 
 sheets the teacher would write a "copy" for the pupil 
 to imitate. 
 
 The schools of that era were what were known as
 
 The First "Free" Schools 101 
 
 subscription schools, and each parent or patron paid 
 for what schooling was furnished. When a school was 
 contemplated the community was canvassed with a view 
 to getting as many "scholars" as possible. A "scholar", 
 in the sense used, was a certain specified number of 
 days which the teacher agreed to teach one pupil for 
 a stated price. Sometimes a man with, say four chil- 
 dren, would subscribe two scholars and divide the time 
 among all four, some assisting at home while the others 
 were in school, thus alternating study and work. 
 
 The subscription school had one drawback the very 
 poor man could not pay the price and consequently his 
 children suffered the consequences. However, after a 
 time the subscription school was succeeded by what was 
 popularly known as the free school. This in Illinois 
 occurred in 1855 when an act was placed on the statute 
 book providing that all school expenses should be raised 
 by general taxation. Since that date no child in Illi- 
 nois has remained from school because his parents were 
 unable to pay tuition. When this law was first enacted 
 its enthusiastic sponsors seemed to think the millen- 
 nium would come after it had been in operation for a 
 time. It was believed that ignorance, poverty and crime 
 would be banished from the State. That it has had 
 very much to do in making education more general, no 
 one can question. That there is less poverty than there 
 would otherwise have been, is perhaps true. As to its 
 effect in reducing crime, that is questionable. At all 
 events, it without doubt enabled many deserving boys 
 and girls to get an education and occupy a higher plane 
 in life. 
 
 Some years before! the enactment of the free-school 
 law some of the leading citizens became ambitious to
 
 102 "He-Yo-Bouse Her Up" 
 
 have an Academy in the village, and to further this a 
 generously-disposed resident donated a piece of ground 
 as a site for the structure. Later plans were made for 
 a two-story frame building; the lumber was hauled to 
 the ground and the carpenters got the frame in readi- 
 ness, after a good deal of time spent in sawing, boring 
 holes, mortising, making tennons, and strong oak pins. 
 Then a day was set for the raising, in which every able- 
 bodied citizen was expected to bear a part and work 
 with a will. 
 
 A sturdy man with a stentorian voice, a local Metho- 
 dist exhorter, was chosen foreman, and when everything 
 was ready when ropes, tackle and pulleys were in 
 place and every man at his post the foreman stepped 
 a few paces aside, and in a vehement manner and loud 
 voice gave the command : ' ' He-yo-bouse her up ! " ' ' He- 
 yo-bouse her up!" At each command, those at the 
 ropes gave a strong, concerted pull and in due time a 
 given portion of the frame was in the air where an 
 agile man, having mounted the swaying beam, drove 
 home several wooden pins and thus secured it in place. 
 This was followed by one and another part of the frame 
 of the building, till finally every post, every beam, every 
 joist and every brace found its intended location. 
 
 Later the structure was enclosed, shingled and floored, 
 but here, for want of money, the work halted. Mean- 
 while, a summer term was taught within its walls. For- 
 tunately a man moved into the community who had 
 some ready money and generously offered to advance 
 the sum needed to finish the building. The offer was 
 accepted and then plasterers, finishers and painters 
 completed the work. Thus, finished from foundation 
 to roof -tree, the structure was taken over by the district
 
 The ' ' Three R's" and Some More 103 
 
 and, for more than a half-century thereafter, served 
 the people as an eligible schoolhouse. In its early years 
 it was called "The Academy", and indeed, by this 
 name it continued to be known while children grew 
 from infancy to adult life. Something more than a 
 hundred pupils attended the school in this building, 
 and these were in charge of a gentleman principal and 
 a lady assistant. In addition to the seven branches re- 
 quired by law, namely, reading, writing, arithmetic 
 (the three R's), spelling, history, geography and gram- 
 mar, Lafin, algebra, chemistry and philosophy (phys- 
 ics) were taught. Unfortunately there were no chemi- 
 cals and no apparatus to demonstrate the work in chem- 
 istry and physics. Nevertheless not a few of the more 
 important rudiments of these sciences were someway 
 worked into the nascent and always receptive minds of 
 these students. 
 
 "Olmstead's Natural Philosophy" was the text book 
 used in physics, and among other things it delineated 
 the wonderful working of Morse's electric telegraph; 
 the great power of Watt's low-pressure engine and the 
 remarkable motor capabilities of Stevenson's locomotive. 
 
 Silliman's work on Chemistry was in our hands and 
 its opening sentence, "An Experiment is a question ad- 
 dressed to nature" will never be erased from Memory's 
 tablet as long as reason keeps its throne. 
 
 We used Ray's Arithmetic, and who that studied this, 
 can ever forget the problem: "The hour and minute 
 hands of a clock are together at noon. When will they 
 be together again?" And further, who can forget how 
 he puzzled his brain over it? 
 
 One of the important factors in the schools of that 
 day was Webster's Elementary Spelling Book. Who
 
 104 The "Blue-Backed" Speller 
 
 that ever saw it can forget its two blue backs between 
 which intervened a narrow band of red ! On one of its 
 front pages was some sort of seer or prophet, leading a 
 child with one hand and pointing with the other to a 
 supposed temple of fame situated on an almost inacces- 
 sible rocky eminence. Then followed a b, abs; then in 
 perpendicular columns, its words of two syllables ac- 
 cented on the first; others, two-syllables, accented on 
 the second and so on up to "im-ma-te-ri-al-i-ty", a word 
 of seven syllables that was the delight of the bright 
 girl as she spelled and pronounced each syllable sepa- 
 rately. Toward the end of the speller was a picture 
 of good, old dog Tray who was so unfortunate as to 
 fall into bad company and in consequence became the 
 recipient of numerous kicks and cuffs. There was also 
 the fable that illustrated the supreme importance of 
 knowing "whose ox had been gored". Next came the 
 picture of the old man chiding and throwing grass at 
 the boys who were up in his apple tree helping them- 
 selves to the fruit; and their taunting words and teas- 
 ing pantomime that finally prompted the owner to pick 
 up some large pebbles and say: "If neither words nor 
 threats will bring you down, I will see what effect 
 stones will have." Of course the young thieves came 
 down and took to their heels. 
 
 How faithful the brain cells have been in keeping an 
 imperishable record of the old-time Spelling Bees! Not 
 infrequently these were held on long winter evenings 
 at the schoolhouse and were attended by all ages and 
 all classes. Two persons, known to bei good spellers, 
 would "choose-up", that is, select persons to spell on 
 their side, and when these had taken their places, two 
 long rows would face each other in standing position.
 
 Pocahontas School House ("Academy"), where (in the 50's), author 
 obtained his preliminary education. (Courtesy Dr. D. R. Wilkins)
 
 youthful Ciceros 105 
 
 The words would be "given out", or pronounced, by 
 the teacher and in turn given to an individual on one 
 side, and next on the other, and when a word was mis- 
 spelled, the person missing it would sit down and for 
 the time be "out of the game", so to speak. "Who does 
 not remember the modest, quiet girl who, as someone 
 said, had "swallowed" the spelling book and in conse- 
 quence spelled down the whole school and, indeed, all 
 competitors. 
 
 Not infrequently on Friday afternoons the whole 
 school would have a spelling bee. At other times on 
 Friday afternoons there would be declamations and 
 compositions, participated in by all the older pupils. 
 Webster's speeches afforded favorite selections, espe- 
 cially his reply to Hayne -and his John Adams speech, 
 beginning: "Sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- 
 ish, I give my heart and hand to this vote." Other 
 favorites were Eeenzi's address to the Romans, ending 
 with: "Rouse, ye Romans! Rouse, ye slaves!" stirring 
 words that gave opportunity for the school's champion 
 declaimer to show his ability at its best. A few of the 
 boys declaimed well and creditably, but the majority 
 made sorry work of it. Most of them were at a loss 
 what to do with their hands and not a few would recite 
 a few words of the piece chosen, hesitate, stammer, for- 
 get and sit down. 
 
 The compositions were, for the most part, crude and 
 insipid and some were purloined. Now and then there 
 would be one that gave promise of future ability to 
 write. "Spring" and "Things I Like to See", were 
 favorite topics for the girls' compositions. One pupil 
 of German parentage, whose people lived on a neighbor- 
 ing farm, wrote a composition "On a Mule", the first
 
 106 McGuffy 's Readers 
 
 words of which were: "A mule is better than a horse. 
 In fact a mule is the best horse we've got. One reason 
 is, a mule hardly ever dies. I never knew one to die in 
 my life!" 
 
 We used the McGuffy Eeaders the McGuffy Readers 
 newly minted. That is to say, when they had but re- 
 cently come from the brain and hand of their author 
 and compiler, and were not edited, re-edited, amended 
 and worked over by aliens as we have them today. As 
 all know, hash is never equal to a fresh beefsteak. Who 
 that grew up with these readers in his hand can ever 
 forget the two brothers at Christmas time, one of whom 
 was provident and carefully untied the cord about his 
 presents and put it in his pocket, while the other cut 
 and threw away the string about his packages. A little 
 later the improvident brother was chagrined when he 
 saw his brother take from his pocket a cord and use it 
 for a top-string, while for want of one his own top 
 could not be used. Some one has said that this story 
 so impressed its lesson upon the rising generation that 
 much string of questionable value was saved, at the cost 
 of much time of unquestionable value. However, the 
 lesson inculcated was a valuable one in various ways. 
 
 Then there was somebody's graphic description of 
 
 the burning at Rome of the great Amphitheater and the 
 
 , consequent escape of hundreds of ferocious wild beasts. 
 
 Then there was that old-time exhortation in verse: 
 
 "If at first you don't succeed, 
 
 Try, try, try again ! 
 Time will bring you your reward," etc. 
 
 I attended school in "The Academy" from the time
 
 Some Faithful Instructors 107 
 
 of its completion till the breaking out of the Civil War ; 
 and when it had faithfully served the community for a 
 half-century I had the pleasure of attending a celebra- 
 tion held under its roof in commemoration of this fact. 
 I owe no little to the schools of my village, taught in 
 this so-called " Academy". I also owe much to the teach- 
 ers who taught within its walls. Among these I recall 
 one by the name of Green who encouraged me to study 
 and get an education; and whose delight was to call 
 attention to the merits of the various writers whose con- 
 tributions could be found in the advanced Reader. An- 
 other one of my teachers was Charles W. Johnson, my 
 cousin, and ten years my senior, who later was a good 
 soldier and officer in the Civil War. His son, the Hon. 
 Albert Johnson, now represents the Third District of 
 the State of Washington in Congress.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN AND ABOUT AN ILLINOIS CORNFIELD IN THE FIFTIES. 
 
 Welcome weelfare of husbands at the plow. 
 
 Gwin Douglas. 
 
 The green-haired maze, her silken tresses laid 
 In soft luxuriance on her harsh brocade. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 The beginning of the second half of the Nineteenth 
 Century found much of what is today the middle West 
 not yet brought under cultivation especially was this 
 true of Illinois, then known as the "Prairie State". 
 
 The first plowing of the sod, ordinarily referred to 
 as "breaking prairie", was in its way an arduous un- 
 dertaking, and the usual outfit for this was a large, 
 strong plow drawn by oxen. Immediately in front of 
 the point of the plow was a coulter, a strong piece of 
 iron securely fastened to the beam and provided with 
 a sharp cutting edge, which divided the sod turned 
 over from that remaining. As a result of this arrange- 
 ment, the turned-over sod was of a uniform width and 
 thickness. Six yoke of oxen not infrequently comprised 
 the propelling power of one of these plows which opened 
 a furrow two feet or more in width, and cut roots, and 
 any ordinary obstruction, with the utmost facility. This 
 plow, like all others of its time, had handles, but in 
 addition was attached by its beam to a pair of low 
 wheels which held it steady and kept it from turning 
 over. 
 
 (108)
 
 Breaking Prairie 109 
 
 The man who drove the oxen, the ox-driver, was a 
 unique character. He was coarse, rough, had a loud 
 voice and could "swear by note" when the emergency 
 seemed to demand it. He carried a long, heavy ox- 
 whip, the insignia, as it were, of his calling. It was 
 made of twisted raw-hide, in its thickest part was an 
 inch in diameter, and was attached to a) long handle 
 made from a small, growing hickory upon which the 
 bark remained. This whip he was fond of flourishing 
 and cracking with a sharp report, and meantime any 
 laggard in the team was sure to get from it a prompt 
 stroke. For each of his oxen he had names and when 
 they were pulling the plow he was constantly directing 
 this one, correcting that one, and chiding the other. 
 It was "Gee, Buck!" "Haw, Bright!" "Git up, 
 Baldy!" "What are you doing there, Spot!" and so 
 on till none were slighted either with voice or whip- 
 lash. 
 
 Oxen are slow, patient, easily satisfied creatures and 
 they contributed much towards the convenience and 
 comfort of the pioneer. Furthermore they were a 
 minimum in the way of expense and trouble; putting 
 a yoke on their necks of mornings was the work of a 
 moment, and as little time was needed to remove it at 
 night ; and water to drink and grass to eat was all they 
 required till the coming of another morning found them 
 ready, willing and able to patiently labor and plod 
 one more day for man, the master. 
 
 When the prairie sod was turned over in the spring 
 it was at once planted in corn. This was usually done 
 with a hoe (sometimes with an ax), and as the growing 
 crop required, and received no cultivation, it was known 
 ;as "sod-corn".
 
 110 Springs and Early Settlers 
 
 Not unfrequently prairie breaking occurred later 
 and in this event the newly turned over ground would 
 be sown to fall wheat, and a good crop under such cir- 
 cumstances could nearly always be depended upon. 
 
 The year following the first turning over the virgin 
 prairie, it could be plowed with two horses and an 
 ordinary breaking-plow and planted to any crop de- 
 sired ; nevertheless, it was sometimes two or three years 
 before the last remains of the prairie sod would dis- 
 appear. 
 
 In pioneer days the wooded sections of the " Prairie 
 State" were the first to attract settlers. The water- 
 courses were fringed with timber that grew heavy near 
 the streams but became lighter as the prairie was ap- 
 proached, and when the latter was reached ended in a 
 scrubby undergrowth of stunted hickories, scrub oaks, 
 crab-apple bushes, hazel-brush and briars. 
 
 The point where timber and prairie met was ever a 
 variable one, a sort of irregular shore-line that jutted 
 out here in a little peninsula, and receding yonder, left 
 a large open space in which the swaying prairie grass 
 seemed like waves in a small bay. 
 
 The earlier settlements were for the most part made 
 in the southern sections of Illinois and here the new- 
 comer, nearly always from Kentucky, Tennessee, North 
 Carolina or Virginia, invariably located upon a run- 
 ning stream and, furthermore, if practicable, built his 
 rude cabin convenient to a spring of water. 
 
 But as there were not springs enough to go round, 
 the near vicinity of one of these was often denied to 
 him who came later. In the majority of cases, how- 
 ever, the early settler was so wedded to this form of 
 water-supply that he would carry water, or rather have
 
 Destroying Homes 111 
 
 some female member of his family carry it, up hills 
 and across hollows from an indifferent spring a half- 
 mile or more distant, rather than sink a well in his 
 door-yard where, in most cases, inexhaustible supplies 
 of the purest water could be had by digging a few feet. 
 
 After a time a chain of farms stretched along the 
 timber's edge and thus it happened that the corn-fields 
 upon these earlier settled farms would upon one side 
 encroach upon the woods and present the feature of a 
 timber farm, while the other would extend out in the 
 prairie and have all the characteristics of the latter. 
 
 In early spring all the working force of the farm 
 was utilized for getting in and caring for the growing 
 corn-crop. As soon as frost was out of the ground, 
 usually from the first to the middle of April, plowing 
 began. This first plowing, or " breaking-up ", was done 
 with a team of horses or yoke of oxen, and as the 
 ground had not been disturbed since the previous season, 
 it was firm enough to make the plow "scour" nicely 
 and open up a long straight furrow, from which the 
 bright mould-board rolled up and turned to one side 
 the rich, loose soil of the great corn-growing state. 
 
 As the whole field was turned up from four to eight 
 inches deep, it followed that nearly everything in the 
 vegetable or animal way that had here a home was 
 either destroyed or seriously disturbed by the plow- 
 share. Quails, prairie chickens, and other species of 
 birds that build their nests on the ground had these 
 broken up and destroyed utterly. Gophers, ground- 
 squirrels, moles, and various species of field-mice that 
 find homes by burrowing in the ground, had their domi- 
 ciles suddenly invaded and rudely torn asunder by the 
 plow, just as lordly man sometimes has his more pre-
 
 112 Strange But True 
 
 tentious dwelling ruined or wiped out of existence by 
 the all-devastating cyclone. 
 
 Sometimes snakes' eggs, irregular in outline and re- 
 pulsive in appearance, were turned up with the fresh 
 earth. Various kinds of snakes were seen; now it was 
 a black and yellow "garter" snake, next a blue "racer", 
 and then a blacksnake, and occasionally a rattlesnake 
 with its beautifully mottled surface, ever busy rattles, 
 and broad, flat head and open mouth with venomous, 
 protruding tongue, and wicked-looking jaws, studded 
 with poisonous fangs. 
 
 One day, with several boys near my own age, I was 
 plowing corn, when one. of us killed a striped snake 
 that seemed to be unduly large around. Supposing it 
 had swallowed a toad that might yet be alive we con- 
 cluded to cut the snake open and give any living thing 
 within it its liberty. So we opened up the snake, but 
 instead of finding the expected toad, we found a great 
 number of little snakes. Being curious to know just 
 how many there were we counted them, and they num- 
 bered seventy-six! I related this circumstance to a 
 Naturalist, not long since, and from him I learned that 
 this species of snake does not propagate by means of 
 eggs, but brings forth its young alive. 
 
 By and by the steady-going plow made the whole 
 field black with the newly upturned soil ; and next har- 
 rows were put on to further pulverize the surface. 
 Then with one horse and a small "diamond" plow the 
 field was laid off one way into furrows, three and one- 
 half feet apart. These furrows when intersected by 
 others at right angles, served to indicate where hills of 
 corn were to be planted, thus insuring corn rows in 
 two directions. Three to five grains were put in a hill,
 
 "From Sun-up Till Sun-down" 113 
 
 and this "dropping corn" was usually done by boys 
 and often by girls. These became quite expert in this 
 work, often putting the corn in place as fast as a rap- 
 idly walking horse, with a plow behind him, would 
 mark out the furrow. Following the dropper was a 
 second plow that covered the corn lightly. In from one 
 to two weeks the round, green, sharp-pointed, nail-like 
 shoots of corn would be seen pushing through the 
 ground. When the corn reached the height of two or 
 three inches it was cultivated with little "diamond" 
 plows, but the dirt was thrown from, not towards the 
 young plants. Warm showers in May and June and 
 hot nights in the latter month caused the young crop 
 to grow fast, and six weeks after planting the corn was 
 "knee-high", standing about eighteen inches in the 
 rows. 
 
 The cultivation of the growing crop was pushed with 
 great energy, as had been the preparation of the ground 
 in early spring, and later the planting. The field was 
 reached a little after "sun-up", while yet the sun was 
 a clearly-defined round ball upon which the eye could 
 rest steadily. As yet the great fires of day had not 
 long been glowing, the huge bellows of nature was work- 
 ing slowly, the orb just above the eastern horizon was 
 only at a "red heat", but, an hour or two later would 
 come "white heat" with its dazzling brilliancy, when 
 no eye could dwell upon it. 
 
 In the early morning beads of dew sparkled from 
 every blade of grass. At the upper end of each stalk 
 of growing corn its spreading leaves came together in 
 such a way as to form a large, open-mouthed funnel, 
 at the bottom of which was a little fountain of water, 
 which the converging, trough-like leaves had distilled
 
 114 A Bloodless Battle-Line 
 
 from the night's dews, and now it was gently passing 
 down to the very heart and center of the growing plant. 
 
 The rows of corn, often straight as arrows, stretched 
 across the fields in lines of beautiful green. Up one 
 side of a row and down on the other went the plow, the 
 stalks of corn now strong enough to bear the dirt which 
 the little diamond rolled up and threw against them 
 vigorously. 
 
 Upon the western side of the field was the open prai- 
 rie, upon which horses and cattle roamed at large, and 
 ate of the vigorous, nutritious prairie grass as freely 
 as was breathed the fresh, pure air all about. Far to 
 the west, across the broad, expansive prairie, could just 
 be seen the timber-line, along which the smoke from 
 half a dozen chimneys told where were the links in an- 
 other chain of pioneer ' farms, farms whose owners 
 came to the new land of promise to better their for- 
 tunes, but firm in the faith that no place was perfect 
 whose location was not convenient to a creek and the 
 indispensable spring of water. 
 
 Touching, or rather pressing strongly against the 
 eastern aspect of the corn-field, was the timber. For 
 the forest seemed to resist stoutly the proffered neigh- 
 borhood of the corn-field, and beat back vigorously the 
 encroachments of the plow; showing its defiance by 
 crossing the barrier set up between wild and cultivated 
 nature, and filling the fence-corners next the field with 
 a dense tangle of briars, wild vines, and undergrowth, 
 while crowding against the fence on the other side was 
 a perfect jungle of stunted, but stout forest trees, crab- 
 apple bushes, thorns and brush, all twisted and matted 
 together into a veritable snarl by vines crossing and 
 cris-crossing in every direction.
 
 A Harvest of Promise 115 
 
 At one point in the crooked rail-fence, a young hick- 
 ory had grown through a crevice, and after a while, 
 waxing strong, had straightened up and thrown" the 
 rails above to one side, thus showing its defiance of all 
 such barriers,- and readiness, if needs be, to bear them 
 away on its stout young back. 
 
 By the early days of August, shrub, briar, bush and 
 vine had run such wild vegetable riot that all about the 
 fence seemed but an unsightly waste of plant life. 
 Meanwhile, the growing corn had attained to superb 
 beauty. Crowned with a rich, golden-yellow tassel and 
 clothed in long, deep green leaves, that grew in gentle 
 curves and swayed to and fro gently and softly rustled 
 in every passing Jbreeze, each stalk stood tall, almost 
 stately, and already laden with its harvest of promise 
 a large succulent roasting-ear whose tip was trimmed 
 with a soft, delicate silken tuft that curled over and 
 hung down gracefully. 
 
 Upon the growing maize the faithful farmer looked 
 with ever increasing interest. He saw "the little ger- 
 minating seeds, just thrusting their pale heads up 
 through the soil. He saw the clustering green shoots 
 numerous in the sign of plenty all crowding together 
 and clamoring for light and air, and room. He saw the 
 prevailing of the tall and strong upthrusting stalks 
 after the way of life ; saw the others dwarf and whiten, 
 and yet cling on at the base of the bolder stem para- 
 sites, worthless, yet existing, after the way of life. 
 
 "He saw the great central stalks spring boldly up, 
 so swiftly that it almost seemed possible to count the 
 successive leaps of progress. He saw the beckoning 
 banners of the pale tassels bursting out atop of the 
 stalk, token of fecundity and of the future. He caught
 
 116 "/ Will Feed Ye All" 
 
 the wide-driven pollen as it whitened upon the earth, 
 borne/ by the parent West Wind, mother of increase. 
 He saw the thickening of the green leaf at the base, 
 its swelling, its growth and expansion, till the indefi- 
 nite enlargement showed at length the incipient ear. 
 
 "He noted the faint brown ends of the sweetly-en- 
 veloping silk of the ear, pale-green and soft underneath 
 the sheltering and protecting husk. He found the 
 sweet and milk-white tender kernels, row upon row, 
 forming rapidly beneath the husk, and saw at length 
 the hardening and darkening of the husk at its free 
 end, which told that man might pluck and eat. 
 
 "And then he saw the fading of the tassels, the dark- 
 ling of the silk and, the crinkling of the blades; and 
 there borne on the strong parent stem, he noted how 
 many full-rowed ears, protected by their shucks and 
 heralded by the tassels and the blades: 'Come, come 
 ye, all ye people ! Enter in, for I will feed ye all ! ' ' 
 
 From the time I was twelve till I reached the age 
 of eighteen years I spent the warmer months on the 
 farm where the work was hard and the hours long, so 
 long, indeed, that no record was kept of them. "Sun- 
 up till sun-down" was the rule, and following this 
 through the month of June kept me in the corn-field 
 behind the plow something like fifteen hours. Rather 
 hard on a growing boy, but I lived through it. 
 
 Looking back at my boy-experience on the farm, 
 from the view-point of many years after, I can but 
 regard it with satisfaction; for it brought me in touch 
 with nature as nothing else would; and enabled me to 
 learn something of animal life and vegetable life as 
 nothing else could. 
 
 *Emerson Hough.
 
 Prairie Plow and Ox- Yokes. (See page 108). 
 (Loaned by 0. W. Converse, Springfield, 111.) 
 
 Iron Kettle, Ash Hopper and Soap Barrel. (See page 22). 
 (Loaned by O. W. Converse, Springfield, 111.)
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BOOKS, PERIODICALS AND OTHER READING MATTER IN 
 THE FIFTIES. 
 
 "If I should pray for a taste which might stand me in stead 
 under every variety of circumstances, and be a source of hap- 
 piness and cheerfulness through life, and shield against ills, 
 however things might go amiss and the world frown upon me, 
 it would be a taste for reading. Sir John Herschell. 
 
 And as for me, though I konne but lyte, 
 And bokes for to rede I do delyte, 
 And to give I feyth and ful credence, 
 And it my herte have in reverence, 
 So hertely thet there is game noon, 
 That for my bokes maketh me to goom, .... 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 A blessing on the printer's art! 
 Books are the mentors of the heart. 
 
 Mrs. Hale. 
 
 Books were few and of those found in the homes a 
 considerable proportion were of a religious nature. Of 
 these last some were devoted to biblical history and 
 other to Bible characters. Then there was Daubigne's 
 History of the Reformation, Fox's Book of Martyrs, the 
 Lives of the Apostles, Josephus, and others of a like 
 nature. It was not uncommon to find the life of some 
 noted preacher such as John "Wesley, Lorenzo Dow, or 
 Whitfield, and maybe a copy of The Pilgrim's Progress. 
 Religious books, controversial in character, were favor- 
 ites with some. Of books secular in nature may be 
 
 (117)
 
 118 The Almanac 
 
 named Rollin's Ancient History, Hume's History of 
 England, and Weem's Life of George Washington. 
 
 But in few homes were there books enough to fill a 
 two-foot shelf, and in many instances all that would be 
 found would be the Bible and an Almanac; the latter, 
 truth compels me to say, was in too many cases more 
 often consulted than the former. Almanacs were put 
 out by patent medicine houses and very naturally were 
 mainly devoted to exploiting their remedies. Most peo- 
 ple swallowed the medicines no less than the recom- 
 mendations that went with them, often miraculous in 
 both claims and promises. These remedies were rec- 
 ommended for substantially every disease and the ac- 
 counts published of their magical cures were convincing 
 to many. There was no voice raised to controvert these 
 ridiculous claims and the result was the patent medi- 
 cine man had things his own way. In the Almanac 
 there was always a calendar, and for almost every day 
 there was a prediction made relative to what the 
 weather 1 would be. That these predictions were the 
 baldest guess-work the reader can well imagine. To 
 be sure the Almanac seer or prophet kept within cer- 
 tain bounds, as for illustration he would predict very 
 cold weather in January, snow and ice in February, 
 alternate freezing and thawing in March, frequent show- 
 ers in April, many bright days in May, warm weather 
 in June, hot, dry w r eather in July and August, light 
 frost in September, Indian summer in October and 
 killing frosts in November, and snow, ice and cold 
 weather in December. Kidiculous as it now seems, 
 when the farmers were burdened with too much rain 
 or the crops were suffering from too little, honest tillers 
 of the soil, otherwise sensible, would in all seriousness
 
 The Colporteur 119 
 
 consult the weather predictions of the Patent Medicine 
 Almanac. Let it be known, however, that the Govern- 
 ment Weather Bureau had not yet come into existence. 
 
 In many homes an Almanac would be procured at 
 the beginning of the year and hung up in the kitchen 
 for ready reference. Meanwhile it would become dog- 
 eared, and with the advent of the fall months it would 
 come to be studded all over with brown spots which in 
 unmistakable terms told it was a convenient and much- 
 used fly-roost. But little cared the members of the 
 household for this desecration, and the Almanac would 
 continue to be consulted till it was superseded by its 
 successor at the beginning of the New Year. 
 
 The Colporteur found much more encouragement in 
 his work in the 50 's than he does today and prosecuted 
 it with much vigor. Several times a year he would visit 
 every house in the village and leave his religious tracts 
 and sell Bibles and Testaments at an astonishingly low 
 price, to all who would buy. In a gig or on horseback 
 he would visit every house in the country and distribute 
 his literature and sell his books. No stress of weather 
 or other handicap would stop his work or dampen his 
 zeal. 
 
 That was the golden era of the weekly newspaper, 
 and subscribers looked forward w r ith the "greatest inter- 
 est to the day when their paper would come through 
 the postoffice. People had not yet been educated to the 
 point where news a day old is considered stale. The 
 two* leading merchants in the village each took a St. 
 Louis daily, mainly for the markets, but no one else 
 thought of such a thing as taking a daily paper. In- 
 deed in that time not one person read a daily where 
 hundreds do today. Many families took a religious
 
 120 Newspapers and Magazines 
 
 "\ 
 
 weekly, and to the credit of the newspapers of that pe- 
 riod it can be said that the "Yellow Sheet" had not as 
 yet come into existence. 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri, forty miles west of our village, 
 was our nearest large city, and here was published the 
 Missouri Republican, a paper Democratic in politics. 
 In the late fifties in that city there sprung into being 
 The Missouri Democrat, Republican in politics, and 
 which exists today as the last half of the hyphenated 
 name of one of St. Louis's leading newspapers. After 
 a career^ of the greater part of a century under the 
 name Missouri Republican, that paper changed to St. 
 Louis Republic. 
 
 Horace Greeley was in the zenith of his great news- 
 paper career and a great many took his New York Trib- 
 une and received its teachings like gospel. 
 
 Harper's Weekly and Frank Leslie's were about the 
 only illustrated papers with character and standing. 
 
 Magazines were vastly less common than today. Har- 
 per's New Monthly Magazine had but recently come 
 into existence. The Atlantic Monthly was launched 
 late in the fifties and had the same appearance and 
 characteristics that it has today. These two magazines 
 had the field to themselves. Putnam's Magazine, good 
 in its way, had a short-lived existence. 
 
 From the foregoing it will be seen that reading mat- 
 ter was as much too scarce then as, in some particulars, 
 it is too plentiful today. One result of this was to 
 make people more appreciative of what they had. So 
 true was this that some of the old school readers were 
 kept in the homes because of the fine literary selections 
 in them. This" was especially true of Murray's English 
 Eeader and of the Third, Fourth and Fifth Readers of
 
 Literary Longings 121 
 
 the McGuffey series, all of which were in a sense studded 
 with literary gems. Addison, Dryden, Pope, Goldsmith, 
 Samuel Johnson, Scott, Shakespeare, Campbell, Thomp- 
 son, the Bible, Milton, Byron, Irving, Cooper, Bryant, 
 were some of the authors and sources from which these 
 selections were made. Further than this, well written 
 and interesting articles were cut out of newspapers and 
 other periodicals and pasted in scrap books where they 
 could be preserved and read by all. 
 
 There can be little doubt that numerous young per- 
 sons of that era suffered from a sort of literary starva- 
 tion ; I myself recall with what longing eyes I sometimes 
 looked, from afar, upon some attractive book or maga- 
 zine. 
 
 I saw a boy with eager eye 
 
 Open a book upon a stall, 
 
 And read, as he'd devour it all ; 
 Which, when the stall-man did espy, 
 
 Soon to the boy I heard him call : 
 
 "You, sir, you never buy a book, 
 
 Therefore in one you shall not look." 
 The boy passed slowly on, and with a sigh 
 He wished he never had been taught to read, 
 Then of the old churl's books he should have had no need. 
 
 Mary Lamb. 
 
 About the middle of the fifties the villagers got to- 
 gether a fund and purchased the books for a small cir- 
 culating Library which was destined to supply a long- 
 felt need. Two young men who attended college and 
 acquired some literary culture were the most active 
 members of a committee appointed to select the vol- 
 umes for the much-talked-of and much-thought-of Li- 
 brary. I now realize that this committee was at least
 
 122 A Village Library 
 
 measurably qualified for the work assigned it, and 
 among the/ books recommended and in due time pro- 
 cured I recall Hume's History of England, Macaulay's 
 History of England, Macaulay's Essays, Addisou's 
 Spectator, Abbott's Lives of Caesar, Xerxes, Cyrus 
 Hannibal, Cleopatra and other Ancient Worthies, Plu- 
 tarch's Lives, Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman 
 Empire, Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, Milton's Poems, 
 Bryant's Poems, Irving 's Works, Pope's Poems, Mrs. 
 Heman's Poems, Bancroft's History of the United 
 States, The Life of Webster, Wirt's Life of Patrick 
 Henry, etc. It is needless to add that this little library 
 was a God-send to some of us. 
 
 In the late fifties, from the 'school fund of the town- 
 ship a certain sum was devoted to the purchase of a 
 library of well-selected books, comprising for the most 
 part histories and biographies. 
 
 Harper and Brothers were the principal publishers 
 of that time. Most of the books were in relatively small 
 type and closely printed with long paragraphs and nar- 
 row margins, consequently the printed page of the mid- 
 dle of the Nineteenth Century was not as attractive as 
 it came to be fifty years later.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Two VILLAGE DOCTORS. 
 
 The blacksmith ailed, the carpenter was down, 
 And half the children sickened in the town. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 Up and down the village streets, 
 Strange are the thoughts my fancy meets. 
 
 Whit tier. 
 
 Iii the early fifties a heavy forest of shellbark hick- 
 ories, burr-oak, ash and sycamores stretched like a 
 dense, thick curtain along the banks of a stream that 
 in its course riverward turned many mill-wheels. 
 
 A mile west of this stream the forest frayed out into 
 a thin fringe of stunted hickories, pin-oaks, crab-apple 
 bushes and hazel brush as it touched the prairies. 
 
 In this fringe-like margin of the forest lay a little 
 pioneer village which had been most aptly named 
 Prairiedge. It was like all of its class, a quiet village, 
 and of mornings its inhabitants found their chief inter- 
 est center about the coming of the stage* coach from 
 the east, while in the afternoons their main diversion 
 was experienced when the stage arrived from the west. 
 
 Through the center of the village ran a common dirt- 
 road, dignified with the name National Road, and for 
 about a fourth of a mile this highway constituted the 
 one principal street of Prairiedge, and upon either 
 side of this simple thoroughfare were the dwellings of 
 the villagers. 
 
 Upon the north side in a little unpainted cottage with 
 
 (123)
 
 124 The "Mineral" Doctor 
 
 its eaves to the street lived the Old School, or Mineral 
 doctor. Upon the opposite side of the street in an 
 equally unpretentious dwelling with its gable to the 
 front, lived the New School, or Botanic doctor. 
 
 Beside the dwelling of the Old School doctor was a 
 little frame structure, boarded up square in front, with 
 a door opening from the sidewalk, and beside which was 
 a solitary window. Hanging upon a rusty iron rod, 
 cooing in the zephyrs of June and creaking and groan- 
 ing in the blasts of November, was a tin sign upon 
 either side of which were the words: Salmon Tartar, 
 M. D., Physician and Surgeon. Upon entering this lit- 
 tle office of Dr. Tartar's, for such it was, you would 
 see in a plain walnut case at one side of the room a 
 number of well-worn volumes, among which were Wat- 
 son's Practice of Medicine, Druit's System of Surgery, 
 Churchill's Science and Art of Midwifery, Williams' 
 Principles of Medicine, Dunglison's Dictionary, etc. 
 You would also see full files of that sterling old medical 
 periodical, The American Journal of the Medical Sci- 
 ences. Upon shelves at the other side of the room were 
 a few jars, bottles and packages, containing for the 
 most part drugs. Upon looking closely, however, you 
 would find that more than one package was labeled 
 "Smoking Tobacco". 
 
 Sitting in a splint-bottom chair could almost always 
 be found Dr. Tartar, a round-faced, self-contained ap- 
 pearing man, seemingly about forty-five years of age. 
 He further impressed the observer as being a quiet, 
 good-natured, contented man who was disposed to re- 
 gard this a pretty good old world, notwithstanding the 
 many mean things said about it. 
 
 At the rear of Dr. Tartar's office was a door from
 
 A Mini'ilur? Hif/hway 
 
 which led a well-worn patli to the kitchen door of the 
 doctor's dwelling. Were you permitted to become ac- 
 quainted with the inside history of this miniature high- 
 way you would probably find that very little of the 
 good doctor's shoe-leather had contributed to its for- 
 mation, but as regards his wife the same could not be 
 said. Mrs. Tartar was a tall, angular woman with high 
 cheek bones and flashing black eyes. She was possessed 
 of great energy and a tongue that upon occasions could 
 be as cutting as a knife. 
 
 Innumerable were the times when Dr. Tartar, sitting 
 quietly^ smoking, reading, or lost in one of his day- 
 dreams, having and desiring no companion but his meer- 
 schaum, which a grateful German patient had given 
 him and which he smoked incessantly innumerable, I 
 was about to say, were the occasions when Dr. Tartar's 
 studies or reveries were interrupted by the sharp voice 
 of his wife at the back door of his office scolding him 
 for delaying a promised professional visit or berating 
 him for permitting his competitor across the way to 
 get from him another patient prominent in the village. 
 
 Strange to say, Mrs. Tartar's maiden name was 
 Sweet, and in her home she was one of those intensely 
 energetic housekeepers who manage to keep things in 
 a perpetual state of disorder by reason of continuous 
 and misdirected efforts at setting them to rights. One 
 of the articles of furniture in the Tartar household was 
 an old melodeon which in her girlhood Mrs. Tartar had 
 played on with some skill. Indeed, it was said that it 
 was the melodious tones of this old-time instrument 
 that first enticed the attention of Dr. Tartar to the 
 black-eyed, energetic maiden. Those, however, were 
 the good old days that had become ancient history, and
 
 126 Dr. Tartar "Mineral" Doctor 
 
 some of the profane villagers went so far as to say that 
 later all the music the good doctor ever heard from his 
 wife w r ere the piercing and discordant notes of ''Hell 
 on the Wabash". 
 
 So much for Dr. Tartar. What of his competitor 
 across the street, Dr. Tobias Tansy ? beside whose dwell- 
 ing was a little frame structure the almost exact coun- 
 terpart of Dr. Tartar's office save that it was adorned 
 with a most conspicuous sign in big letters and w y hich 
 was as follows: "Infirmary of Dr. Tobias Tansy, Bo- 
 tanic and .Re-Form Physician". Upon entering this 
 structure one would see one side of the room occupied 
 by shelves upon which were many jars, bottles and 
 paper boxes filled with herbs, roots, and other products 
 from the vegetable kingdom, and prominent among 
 which w r ere packages and containers labeled "Lobelia". 
 Upon some shelves on the other side of the room were 
 a few books and periodicals, prominent among which 
 were Dr. Samuel Thompson's Manual of Practice, while 
 among the medical papers were the "Lobelian", "The 
 Lobelia Advocate", "The Lobelia Sentinel". There 
 was also "The Botanic Recorder", in the pages of which 
 occurred many times, in reproachful reference to the 
 Dominant School of Medicine, the words, "Regular", 
 "Medical Monopoly", etc. Standing in. the middle of 
 the room could not unfrequently be seen a tall, lean 
 man with a hooked nose and large mouth, and who in 
 accord with the fashion of the times was without whis- 
 kers, though his face was covered with the bristly prod- 
 uct of a weeks 's neglect of the use of the razor. It 
 perhaps need not be said that this man was Dr. Tansy, 
 who had a much- jointed appearance from seemingly
 
 Dr. Tansy a "Botanic" Doctor 127 
 
 possessing a profusion of knees, ankles, elbows and 
 wrists. 
 
 Such was Dr. Tobias Tansy, whose dress was as little 
 attractive as his figure was awkward and ungainly. His 
 "store-clothes" hung upon him in a way that formed 
 unseemly wrinkles and doubled into many ungraceful 
 folds, and upon his head was a high ("plug") hat that 
 was pushed down till it nearly rested upon his big ears. 
 Unlike Dr. Tartar, Dr. Tansy was a great talker and 
 intensely energetic as well. He never tired of expa- 
 tiating upon the many claims and virtues of the "Bo- 
 tanic", or as he termed it, "The jRe-Form System" of 
 medicine. 
 
 But ungainly and unattractive as was Dr. Tansy, he 
 had for a wife a sweet, comely woman who had the es- 
 teem and respect of all who knew her. 
 
 Thus it was the easy-going Dr. Tartar had his ener- 
 getic, ambitious wife to prod him up and make him 
 pull up his end of the professional double-tree ; and the 
 always energetic, over-zealous and always-talking Dr. 
 Tansy had a wise, tactful and popular wife to smooth 
 out and make more tolerable her husband's shortcom- 
 ings and eccentricities. 
 
 But notwithstanding the domestic influences exerted 
 upon these two disciples of Aesculapius, it came to be 
 a saying in the village of Prairiedge, that Dr. Tartar 
 was all right if you could ever get him, and that on the 
 whole Dr. Tansy was well enough if you could ever get 
 rid of him. 
 
 As time went by it came about that about half the 
 villagers preferred a quiet, self-poised, still-tongued 
 physician who stirred up their livers with calomel, loos- 
 ened their phlegm with tartar emetic, and physicked
 
 128 A Fair Division 
 
 them with Epsom salts; and so very naturally this half 
 of the community employed Dr. Salmon Tartar. 
 
 The other half preferred an energetic, fussy, talkative 
 doctor, who sought to account for and explain every- 
 thing, and who touched up their livers with leptandrin, 
 physicked them with mandrake, puked them with lobe- 
 lia and loosened their phlegm and "iuards" at the same 
 time. So very naturally the latter half of the Prairi- 
 edgers employed Dr. Tobias Tansy. 
 
 The principal diseases these doctors had to contend 
 with were, in the colder season, pneumonia, commonly 
 known as "winter fever", colds, coughs, and an occa- 
 sional frost-bitten limb. In the warmer season, bowel 
 troubles of various kinds, such as diarrhoea, dysentery, 
 usually called "bloody flux", "summer complaint", 
 cholera morbus, etc. 
 
 "Summer complaint" was the warm weather disease 
 that most affected infants and was often fatal. Im- 
 proper food was in most instances the cause of cholera 
 morbus in grown people and "summer complaint" in 
 children. Violent vomiting attended the inception of 
 many diseases. 
 
 With the approach of the fall months a great many 
 were stricken with "chills and fever", which certain 
 ones always referred to as "ager" and others called 
 "the shakes". Bilious fever was another form of ma- 
 laria. Typhoid fever prevailed to an extent but was 
 never called by that name, but was known as ' ' nervous 
 fever", "slow fever", "autumnal fever", etc. 
 
 Among accidents were broken bones, ax-cuts, snake- 
 bites, and lacerated wounds from various causes and 
 an occasional bullet wound. 
 
 A boy or girl that had not had measles, scarlet fever,
 
 Some Ailments in the Fifties 129 
 
 chicken-pox and whooping cough was looked upon by 
 his or her associates as little short of abnormal. 
 
 Flies, fleas, bed bugs and other insects doubtless 
 spread catching diseases, but as the germ theory of dis- 
 ease was as yet many years in the future, no one ever 
 so much as dreamed of the danger which these pests 
 might have in store for humanity. 
 
 At times real Asiatic cholera would claim its victims 
 from among the residents of the village and surround- 
 ing country. When this disease was prevailing as an 
 epidemic some one would visit St. Louis, unfortunately 
 contract the disease and later give it to others. 
 
 My kind reader, for the moment I am going to take 
 the liberty of imagining you in your younger years and 
 a resident of Prairiedge and a victim of, say a severe 
 attack of chills and fever so severe, in fact, that your 
 parents decide to send for Dr. Tansy. One of Dr. Tan- 
 sy's virtues was prompt response to professional calls, 
 and consequently it was not long till that worthy 
 was at your bedside. He feels your pulse, looks at 
 your tongue, clasps your 'forehead with his long, bony 
 fingers, and meanwhile has a great deal to say about 
 your foul "stomic", gorg'd "bill-yary" passages, con- 
 gested intes-tines and the promptness with which the 
 ".Ke-form system of treatment would bring relief. He 
 asserts that "lobely" will act like a charm in your case, 
 and straightway gives you a vomit with that drug 
 that is vastly worse than the disease he is striving to 
 cure. 
 
 Meantime he charges your mother not to give you a 
 drop of water while your fever is up ! Next he observes 
 that some doctors give quinine in such troubles but that 
 medicine is liable to "settle" in the bones and should
 
 130 " Tricks in All Trades ' ' 
 
 not be used. Having said this and a good deal more 
 along the same line, Dr. Tansy puts up six large pow- 
 ders that you are to take three hours apart till all are 
 used. As the medicine is known to be very bitter your 
 mother decides to administer it in baked apple. Ac- 
 cordingly she covers a spoon with a layer of apple, 
 puts the contents of one paper in the middle of this, 
 and spreads over all another layer of apple. Then she 
 directs you to swallow all at one gulp ! This you en- 
 deavor to do. But unfortunately you get only half the 
 apple and the whole of the bitter taste of the medicine, 
 enhanced by the acid in the fruit. This experience 
 makes you more cautious with the next dose, with which 
 you are more fortunate, and in the end you manage to 
 get down all the powders. 
 
 As a result of the treatment your ague was broken 
 and you and your parents rejoice in Dr. Tansy's skill. 
 But alas for fallible humanity ! for after reaching man- 
 hood you learn that Dr. Tansy's blue powders were a 
 mixture of quinine and Prussian blue! that the qui- 
 nine was the efficient ingredient and that the Prussian 
 blue was used to disguise it and give the impression that 
 an entirely different drug was being used. Thus the 
 uninitiated were led to believe they were using an 
 equally efficient but a far less dangerous drug than 
 quinine. 
 
 Many years ago, you, my imaginary resident of Prai- 
 riedge, obeying the behests of fortune, took your 
 leave of that village ; and in the hard battle of life that 
 you were compelled to wage you became absorbed in 
 your surroundings. Meanwhile the months run into 
 years, the years into decades, the decades into tens, 
 twenties, thirties, forties, when one day, tired of the
 
 A Mid-Nineteenth Century Ideal Milk-Maid.
 
 Looking Backward 131 
 
 strife and turmoil, the memory of Prairiedge and the 
 peaceful associations of your childhood come up in 
 perspective and seem so sweet and restful that you find 
 yourself filled with a longing to once more tread the 
 green pastures, stand beside the laughing waters and 
 loiter for a time in the land that gave you birth. Finally 
 this longing so preys upon you that one beautiful morn- 
 ing in June you find yourself aboard a railway train 
 bound for Prairiedge. Very naturally, for the time 
 being you are living in the past, and as you look down 
 the dim perspective, a thousand memories crowd your 
 brain. Prominent among these is the memory of the 
 old times, the old place and the old friends, and you 
 recall those beautiful lines of Dr. Oliver "Wendell 
 Holmes : 
 
 "There is no time like the old time when you and I were young, 
 When the buds of April blossomed and the birds of spring- 
 time sung; 
 
 The garden's brightest glories by the summer suns are nursed, 
 But O, the sweet, sweet violets, the flowers that opened first. 
 
 i 
 
 "There is no place like the old place where you and I were born, 
 Where we opened first our eye-lids on the splendors of the 
 
 morn, 
 From the milk-white breast that warmed us, from the loving 
 
 arms that bore 
 
 Where the dear eyes glistened o'er us that shall look on us no 
 more. 
 
 "There is no friend like the old friend who has shared our 
 
 morning days, 
 
 No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise ; 
 Fame is the senseless sun-flower with gaudy crown of gold, 
 But friendship is the breathing-rose with sweets in every fold."
 
 132 Some Old Friends 
 
 Arrived at Prairiedge, the first person you meet in 
 getting off the; train is an old schoolmate whom you 
 had last known as a round-faced boy with laughing 
 bright eyes. But now he is a gray-bearded, dim-eyed 
 grandfather. With this old schoolmate you go over the 
 history of the Prairiedgers of your boyhood days. 
 You are pained to learn that whole generations of 
 Browns, Harneds, Smiths, Plamts, Joneses, and aye, of 
 Johnsons, have found their last and final home in the 
 village graveyard, since last you set foot on the cher- 
 ished soil of Prairiedge. 
 
 But you are pleased to find that Dr. Salmon Tartar 
 is yet living and a resident of the village as of yore. 
 His wife, whom you supposed would have long since 
 tormented the life out of her husband, you learn, died 
 many years ago. 
 
 Dr. Tobias Tansy, too, you find has been in his grave 
 for many years, but his sweet-tempered wife, after the 
 death of her husband, accepted the superintendency of 
 a Home for, the Friendless in an adjoining county, into 
 whose borders had gone the story of her many virtues. 
 
 While you are talking a fine, hearty-looking old gen- 
 tleman comes along the street who you learn is none 
 other than Dr. Salmon Tartar. You approach him, 
 shake hands, fall into conversation and learn that he 
 eats well, sleeps well, plays with his grandchildren and 
 is in the enjoyment of a green old age of satisfaction 
 and contentment. In due time you part company with 
 this fine old octogenarian with the wish that he could 
 somehow convey to the world his secret of knowing so 
 well ho\v to grow old gracefully. 
 
 Having thus met and conversed with one of the vil- 
 lage doctors of your childhood days, you find yourself
 
 "Physician, Heal Thyself" 133 
 
 curious to learn the particulars of the death of the 
 other, Dr. Tobias Tansy. So you again accost your old 
 schoolmate and get the desired information. 
 
 It seemed that in the month of March, late in the 
 fifties, Dr. Tansy took a violent cold and at once there 
 rang in his ears the scriptural injunction, "Physician, 
 heal thyself"! So at five o'clock one evening he soaked 
 his feet in warm water, drank a quart of Composition 
 tea and went to bed. Failing to get relief after an hour 
 or more he arose, drank a saucerful of a decoction of 
 red-pepper, and with the assistance of his wife took a 
 hot steam bath from an infusion of catnip, pennyroyal, 
 horehound, boneset, tansy, chamomile, dogfennel, smart- 
 we^d and some half-dozen other herbs. Failing to get 
 relief from the steam bath, and especially failing to 
 sweat as freely as he had hoped to do, the patient got 
 out of bed, stripped off his clothing, and against the 
 earnest protests of his wife, poured a bucket of ice- 
 water over his shoulders, rubbed himself down with a 
 coarse towel, and ended by taking a teacupful of a 
 strong infusion of lobelia. "There's a whole lot in the 
 .Ke-form System of Medicine", remarked Dr. Tansy as 
 he once more sought his couch. 
 
 Next morning he was found dead in bed, and at the 
 coroner's inquest, held a few hours later, Dr. Tartar 
 had enough of the true milk of human kindness in his 
 make-up to assign "heart-disease" as the cause of death. 
 
 At last, after having met the few living who can talk 
 over with you the people and things of forty-odd years 
 before, your thoughts turn to the dead, and with the 
 thought of meeting other, though sad, reminders of the 
 past, you direct your footsteps toward the "burying- 
 ground" a half-mile north of the village. Surrounded
 
 134 God's Acre 
 
 by a rough board fence upon a little elevated spot in 
 the timber is this God's-acre of the good people of your 
 childhood, and as you approach its precincts a pair of 
 turtle doves are cooing mournfully as though chanting 
 a solemn dirge for the dead. The enclosure is thickly 
 sown with graves, and upon the stones above these are 
 many names familiar to your eyes. Among the rest 
 one slab arrests your special attention, for in addition 
 to being over the grave of an old acquaintance, the in- 
 scription in conciseness and pithiness bears the ear- 
 marks of Dr. Tartar. You approach and read, "Ma- 
 tilda Sweet, wife of Dr. Salmon Tartar, born March 
 18, 1815, died June 30, 1859". And below this sim- 
 ple record of birth and death are just two words, "She 
 Sleeps!" 
 
 Instinctively, almost, you search for another grave, 
 and at last, beneath a graceful elm, you catch a glimpse 
 of an old white marble slab with rounded top. Pushing 
 aside the weeds and briars you find chiseled into the 
 upper part of the stone a figure of a weeping willow, 
 and just beneath the following: "Sacred to the mem- 
 ory of Dr. Tobias, Tansy. Born A. D. 1810; died A. D. 
 1858. For many years an enthusiastic practitioner of 
 the Botanic, or Re-Form System of Medicine. A man 
 of forceful character who fought his own battles, con- 
 sistently took his own medicine and died. Peace to his 
 ashes. ' '
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 RAILROADS AND OTHER METHODS OF TRAVEL AND 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 When I was home I was in a better place 
 But travelers must be content. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 There is nothing -gives a man such spirits, 
 Leavening his blood as cayenne doth a curry, 
 As going at full speed no matter where its 
 Direction be, so 'tis in a hurry . 
 
 Byron. 
 
 In Illinois, the decade of the fifties was an era of 
 railroad building, surprising in extent and undreamed 
 of in results. 
 
 In 1850, all told there were but 111 miles of railroads 
 in Illinois. In 1860, ten years later, there were 2,270 
 miles. Moreover, the 111 miles of constructed road was 
 deemed of so little value that in 1847, twenty-four miles 
 of this between Springfield and Jacksonville was sold 
 for $21,000, about one-tenth of first cost. 
 
 But fortunately for all concerned with the coming in 
 of the second half of the Nineteenth Century railway 
 construction and railway management came to be bet- 
 ter understood, more intelligently put through and more 
 wisely supervised; and in consequence men of affairs 
 became interested in railroading and capital was at- 
 tracted. Fortunately, too, at almost the psychological 
 moment, there was a large influx of the precious metal 
 from the newly discovered gold fields of California. 
 
 (135)
 
 136 Some Early Railway Lines 
 
 It was under these circumstances that a sort of fever 
 for railroad construction spread over the whole extent 
 of the "Prairie State", as Illinois was then called. 
 Among the roads built was the Illinois Central between 
 Chicago and Cairo, with a branch extending northwest 
 from Centralia to the Mississippi river in northern Illi- 
 nois. Senator Douglas did very much in causing this 
 road to be a reality, but the late William S. Wait of 
 Greenville, Bond County, is entitled to the honor of 
 being the first one to suggest this line and of doing it 
 away back in the thirties. 
 
 The Wabash, then known as the Toledo, Wabash and 
 Western R. R., was built across the state from a point 
 opposite Hannibal, Missouri, on the Mississippi river, 
 to Indiana and on east. The Ohio and Mississippi, now 
 the Baltimore and Ohio, was built east from St. Louis 
 through the state and on to Cincinnati. The Big Four, 
 then the Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis, was built 
 between the cities named. The Chicago and Alton was 
 built between these two cities and put in operation in 
 the fifties; the line from Alton to St. Louis was built 
 during the Civil War in the early sixties. In the north- 
 ern part of the state several lines were constructed that 
 have since become parts of extensive systems. Among 
 these may be named the Northwestern, Burlington, Bock 
 Island, and Michigan Central. In addition other lines 
 'I cannot now recall were built and at once put in suc- 
 cessful operation. Engines and passenger cars and like- 
 wise freight cars were much lighter than today ; and 
 sleeping cars, dining cars and mail cars were not yet 
 in use. Roadbeds were much more crooked and uneven 
 than today and never rock-ballasted. 
 
 In addition to the above named roads work was done
 
 'The Steam-Cars" 137 
 
 on many other lines that never had a train pass over 
 them. This was for the reason that none of them were 
 finished; indeed, few of them were graded only in 
 places. In that period wheelbarrows and shovels, re- 
 spectively, propelled and wielded by lusty Irishmen, 
 were almost the sole means in use for grading road- 
 beds. But slow and tedious as was this method, by 
 means of it hundreds and hundreds of miles were 
 graded that never served the purpose of the projectors 
 and was left to be slowly worn away by rain and flood. 
 
 Nearly every town and village had its one or more 
 enthusiasts for a railroad, some of whom were destined 
 to be only dreamers and hence never permitted to see 
 the "iron horse", as the locomotive was then called, 
 whisk through the hamlet, other than in imagination. 
 But in localities where the railroad really came, every 
 one's countenance beamed with satisfaction; and when 
 the first train pulled in, how many hearts throbbed the 
 faster, how many eyes shone the brighter, and how many 
 eyes for the first time looked on a real locomotive and 
 the "steam-cars" behind it! Then when by good for- 
 tune certain ones were permitted to enter the steam- 
 cars and ride behind the strange, puffing engine, what 
 an indescribable sensation! How fast the fence-posts 
 and trees seemed to rush by ! How those who were per- 
 mitted to ride on the first train were envied by their 
 less fortunate neighbors! 
 
 The farmers whose homes were near enough to see 
 the trains rush by were deemed fortunate in being per- 
 mitted to frequently see so novel a sight. Those who 
 were further away would watch the smoke of the loco- 
 motive and listen for its whistle. On a certain day, 
 when the atmosphere was in a peculiar state, I was one
 
 138 Common Modes of Travel 
 
 of a party of several persons who distinctly heard the 
 whistle of a locomotive twelve miles away. This story 
 sounds ''fishy", but I can vouch for its truth. 
 
 So much for the railroads. Now a brief reference to 
 some of the things they in no small measure superseded 
 may interest the reader. 
 
 In the early fifties the three chief means of travel 
 were on horseback, in wagons and by boat. When the 
 road to be gone over was poor, or for any reason unfit 
 for wheels, the saddle-horse was made to serve a most 
 useful purpose and was ridden by both men and women, 
 the latter always riding on a side-saddle. Any woman 
 who would have ventured to ride astride would then 
 and there have seriously compromised her good name. 
 
 The most common mode of travel, especially when sev- 
 eral members of the family needed a conveyance, was 
 the two-horse wagon in which Windsor or split-bottom 
 chairs would be taken from the house and placed in the 
 wagon-bed. The average farmer thought himself well 
 fixed when he could take his family to church or to 
 town in a spick-and-span, newly painted two-horse 
 wagon, drawn by a pair of well groomed and neatly 
 harnessed pair of horses. Occasionally a one-seated ' ' top ' ' 
 buggy would be seen on the road, but this was so rare 
 as to be especially noticeable. Indeed, a buggy in that 
 day was much rarer on the highway than is today a ten- 
 thousand-dollar automobile. 
 
 On the chief thoroughfare the stage-coach, drawn by 
 four horses, passed each way daily. Also canvass-cov- 
 ered wagons would be seen slowly moving to and fro 
 generally to and from the distant city on a large stream 
 or body of water where steamboat traffic was available. 
 Most of these were known as "market" wagons and the
 
 "Marketers" and "Movers" 139 
 
 driver was always referred to as a "marketer". Such 
 wagons were always loaded with produce to be disposed 
 of in the city. Maybe it was a load of hogs in a strong 
 hog-coop, made especially for the purpose and which 
 for the time being displaced the wagon-bed. Maybe it 
 was a load of sheep in a similar coop. Maybe chickens, 
 ducks, geese or turkeys; sometimes all four and all in 
 a coop devised for this use. 
 
 Sometimes the covered wagon, instead of containing 
 hogs, sheep or poultry would be loaded with human 
 live-stock "movers" all seeking that always beckon- 
 ing, always-enticing, better country. In this case the 
 mother, girls and other females and younger children 
 would be in the wagon, where the lines would be in the 
 hands of the head of the family, and the boys would be 
 on foot and looking after the milk-cows, horses and 
 sometimes hogs that were driven behind the wagon. If 
 the weather happened to be warm, one or more panting 
 dogs with their tongues lolling out would be under the 
 wagon and there easily keeping pace with the slowly 
 moving cavalcade. When night came on, a convenient 
 camping place would be selected, preferably in the tim- 
 ber near a spring, or stream. Supper would be cooked 
 on an open fire made by always-easily obtainable wood. 
 When all had satisfied their hunger, the females and 
 smaller children would lie down in the wagon on the 
 feather beds always taken along. Meantime the men 
 would spread their blankets and quilts on some grassy 
 spot under the trees. Thus all slept in the open, and it 
 is not hard to imagine that after the day's adventures, 
 all eyes were soon closed and all cares for the time for- 
 gotten. When night overtook those going to market 
 they nearly always camped out and of course prepared
 
 I 
 140 "Marketers" and "Movers" 
 
 their own food by an open fire. Corn and oats and 
 frequently hay were taken along for the always faithful 
 horses. 
 
 For the market droves of fat cattle might not infre- 
 quently be seen moving along in the care of men on 
 horses aided by two or three dogs. Fat hogs, too, were 
 not infrequently taken to market "on foot", as the 
 term was. Indeed, where a farmer had a goodly num- 
 ber this was the only way to move them, slow as was 
 the process. In that day hogs had much longer legs 
 than they have in our time, otherwise they could never 
 have made the long trips to market. 
 
 At best the roads were poor, bridges were always made 
 wholly of wood, and being poorly secured in place, they 
 not infrequently washed away. 
 
 As to water privileges, Illinois was especially favored. 
 On the whole of its western border for a length of four 
 hundred miles or more was the Mississippi river ; on its 
 southeastern border was the Ohio; on the east was the 
 Wabash; on the northeastern border Lake Michigan. 
 Penetrating its western and northerly limits was the 
 Illinois; and in its interior were the Okaw, Kaskaskia, 
 Sangamon and other small rivers, all when high navi- 
 gable for flatboats and other small craft. On the Mis- 
 sissippi and Ohio fine river packets made regular trips 
 and carried passengers and freight. 
 
 Outside the larger cities banks were few and conse- 
 quently people for the most part kept their money in 
 their homes, and, strange to say, it was seldom stolen. 
 Cattle buyers and others who had to have considerable 
 sums of money put it in a belt and fastened this around 
 them, next their bodies under their clothing. In the 
 county seats and considerable towns the leading mer-
 
 McCormick's Combined Reaper and Mower of Two Genera- 
 tions Ago. (See page 11). 
 (Courtesy International Harvester Company) 
 
 Cradles and Reaping-Hook for Cutting Grain and Flails for 
 
 Threshing it All displaced in the 50's by Machinery. 
 
 (Loaned by 0. W. Converse, Springfield, 111.)
 
 "Foot-Pad" 141 
 
 chant would act as a sort of banker for his patrons by 
 keeping their money in his "strong-box". 
 
 In that period, much more frequently than today, 
 men walked to and fro, and thus traveled through the 
 country. Working men when going any distance nearly 
 always carried a stout stick or cane over one shoulder, 
 to the rear end of which was attached a small bundle 
 of clothes tied up in a red handkerchief. Not infre- 
 quently a man would be met on the road whose every 
 look and action told the story that he was a "foot-pad", 
 or what we of today call a tramp. 
 
 Words, terms, customs, outward appearances change, 
 but at bottom man is always much the same.
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 ELECTIONS, PARTIES AND POLITICS. 
 
 Where village statesmen talked with looks profound 
 And news much older than their ale went round. 
 
 Goldsmith^ 
 
 The seals of office glitter in his eyes ; 
 He climbs, he pants, he grasps them. 
 
 Cow per. 
 
 The first election I recall was held in the fall of 1852, 
 when General Scott ran for President. Elections in my 
 childhood were one of the few things that served to 
 bring to the village all of the men from the surrounding 
 farms, and among these were sure to be two or three 
 neighborhood " bullies" who at such times were almost 
 always "spoiling for a fight". Whisky in those days 
 could be obtained by the jug as easily as molasses can 
 now, and with a "few drinks ahead" the bully was 
 ready and anxious to get in a fist-fight. These fights 
 were not always confined to the fists, for sometimes 
 those engaged would bite and scratch like cats; and 
 worst of all, attempt to "gouge" out an eye. I knew 
 one man who had his thumb nearly bitten off in one 
 of these election-day fights. However, in most instances 
 officers of the law and good citizens managed to part 
 the contestants before anything more serious resulted 
 than bloody noses. 
 
 Substantially all the elections occurred in the fall 
 season when apples were ripe and cider-making was on, 
 and consequently cider could nearly always be had on 
 (142)
 
 "Don't Owe You Nuthin' > 143 
 
 election day. Usually it was sold with ginger-bread, 
 which was baked in large iron pans and cut in pieces 
 about the size of one's hand which sold at five cents 
 each, and a large glass of cider sold at the same price. 
 A certain stand where cider and ginger-bread were sold 
 is responsible for the following: 
 
 A stranger walked up to the stand and said to the 
 proprietor : 
 
 "Say, mister, give me a piece of ginger-bread." The 
 proprietor did as requested and the stranger, after eye- 
 ing his prospective purchase for a minute, said: 
 
 "Mister, would you mind takin' this ginger-bread 
 back and givin' me a glass of cider?" Again the oblig- 
 ing proprietor did as requested. The stranger drank 
 the glass of cider at one gulp, and turning on his heel 
 started off. The proprietor called to him and said : 
 
 "Say, stranger, you forgot to pay me for that cider." 
 
 "Don't owe you nuthin'," answered the stranger. 
 
 "Why, how's that?" inquired the proprietor. 
 
 "Giv yu the ginger-bread fur it," was the prompt 
 response. 
 
 "Well, then, pay me for the ginger-bread," suggested 
 the proprietor. 
 
 "Why, yu'v got the ginger-bread!" was the stran- 
 ger's answer. 
 
 "So I have," acknowledged the proprietor, "but I 
 believe in the mix-up I have somehow been cheated." 
 
 In 1852 General Scott was the Whig candidate and 
 Franklin Pierce the Democratic candidate for President. 
 I was too young to know anything about parties, but I 
 remember hearing older persons say the Whigs would 
 never again run a presidential ticket; and it turned out 
 that they never did.
 
 144 The Maine-Law 
 
 The Whig party was succeeded by the American 
 party, which was popularly known as the Know-Noth- 
 ing party. This was a secret organization with grips, 
 signs, etc.; and it is said that when outsiders tried to 
 find out about the organization from its members the 
 reply was always, "I know nothing about it". Hence 
 the origin of the popular name for this party. When 
 a boy I remember reading a book called "The Know- 
 Nothing", written I suppose in the interest of the party 
 of that name. Some of the tenets of this organization 
 were opposition to the Catholic Church and insistence 
 that America should be ruled by Americans. This or- 
 ganization turned out to be a political mushroom; it 
 loomed up, increased rapidly in its following, and in 
 three or four years went out of existence. For a time 
 the Know-Nothings carried our county, but none of my 
 relatives of voting age were ever its adherents. 
 
 During the winter of 1854-5 the Illinois Legislature 
 passed an Act forbidding the sale and manufacture of 
 intoxicants, to take effect when ratified by the suffrages 
 of the legal voters of the state. This act was almost an 
 exact duplicate of one which had been adopted in the 
 State of Maine, and hence it came to be popularly 
 known as the "Maine-law". The date fixed upon for 
 the voters to decide whether the Maine-law should or 
 should not be adopted in the Prairie State was June 
 17, 1855. Although not yet twelve years of age I was 
 much interested in this campaign. Doubtless this was 
 due to the fact that while not avowed prohibitionists, 
 yet all my adult relatives were its ardent supporters. 
 In the rural communities this proposed law found its 
 most earnest advocates among preachers, teachers, re- 
 formers and all who were in favor of a general moral
 
 Lager Beer in the 50 's 145 
 
 and social uplift. On the other hand, all who made use 
 of intoxicants in any form were stoutly arrayed against 
 it. From my home in Pocahontas, Bond County, I one 
 day accompanied Uncle Benjamin Johnson, a strong, 
 forceful man and a warm temperance advocate, on a 
 trip to Highland, Madison County. In that day High- 
 land was almost as German as Berlin, though in the 
 town and country surrounding was a liberal sprinkling 
 of Swiss and French; in a word, the population was 
 almost wholly 'foreign, and to say that they were all 
 dead-set against the Maine-law only expresses the naked 
 truth. 
 
 When we got to Highland we found great crowds of 
 people and three or four speakers on as many rostrums, 
 addressing groups of attentive auditors and punctuat- 
 ing every word with an emphatic gesture. What these 
 words were we were left to guess, for everything spoken 
 was in the German language. However, we knew that 
 practically every argument that by hook or crook could 
 be marshalled against the Maine-law and its believed- 
 to-be fanatical advocates, was being driven home with 
 vehement force and energy. 
 
 On the grounds, but at a supposedly proper distance 
 from the speakers, an old cannon, a rusty, " discarded 
 field-piece, was fired as fast as it could be loaded. Mean- 
 while beer was on tap at a number of stands and, save 
 my uncle and myself, practically every man drank to 
 his fill. To us this was all novel, for in that day beer- 
 drinking had not as yet become common. 
 
 At last the seventeenth day of June came ; a day that 
 was cool and cloudy and which I recall distinctly for I 
 dropped corn from sun-up until sun-down. Had I been 
 old enough to vote I should certainly have cast my bal-
 
 146 Political Pot Boiling 
 
 lot for the Maine-law as all my uncles did and as I felt 
 sure my father would have done had he been alive. But 
 notwithstanding the work, hopes and prayers of the 
 many who favored the Maine-law it was defeated by a 
 large majority and the now almost forgotten effort to 
 make Illinois a prohibition state in the 50 's promptly 
 became a thing of the past. 
 
 The repeal of the Missouri Compromise in 1854 set 
 the political pot to boiling in earnest and it was the one 
 thing of all others that led to the formation of the Re- 
 publican party;* an organization at its inception made 
 up of voters from all parties who had one thing in com- 
 mon, namely dread of the threatened encroachments of 
 slavery. 
 
 The Compromise and all connected with it was 
 uppermost in everyone's thought and the village states- 
 men never seemed to tire of discussing it. One old fel- 
 low always referred to it as the Com-prom-ise Line and 
 he also called the president, Buke-hanan. In the minds 
 of some the Compromise seemed to be a sort of fence 
 which kept slavery from crossing the line 36 30'. I 
 recall one speaker who took advantage of this idea and 
 said, "Yes, fellow citizens, the Compromise which our 
 Democratic friends have just torn away was a fence, 
 not an ordinary fence, but a fence that was horse-high, 
 bull-strong and pig-tight I" As most of the speaker's 
 audience were farmers, his argument was by them 
 deemed unanswerable. 
 
 In 1856 there were three presidential tickets in the 
 field: the Democrats brought out Buchanan and Breck- 
 
 *The name Republican as a party name was first made 
 use of at a convention held July 6, 1854, at Jackson, Michigan.
 
 'Black" Republican 147 
 
 enridge ; the Republicans Freemont and Dayton and the 
 Know-Nothings Filmore and Donnelson. This was the 
 first and last time the Know-Nothing or American party 
 appeared in a presidential election. The Republican 
 party had only been in existence a year or two and 
 consequently Freemont and Dayton were its first can- 
 didates for president and vice-president respectively. 
 In that campaign a popular slogan with the Republicans 
 was ".FVee-people, free-speech, free-labor, free-soil and 
 Fremont". As Fremont wore a heavy beard, then a 
 new thing, he was by his opponents called the "woolly- 
 hoss." Furthermore, some of these opponents always 
 derisively said Black Republican when referring to the 
 Fremont ticket. 
 
 In that day almost every community raised a flag- 
 pole for favorite candidates. For this purpose a straight 
 hickory pole forty or fifty feet in length would be 
 brought in from the nearby timber and a hole dug for 
 the reception of its larger end, usually about eight 
 inches in diameter. Meantime a new national flag was 
 lettered with the names of the desired candidates for 
 president and vice-president respectively. Finally on 
 an appointed day the partisans of these candidates 
 would congregate, raise the pole to its place, fill in the 
 dirt around its base, run up the flag and give three 
 rousing cheers for Freemont, Buchanan, or Filmore as 
 the case required. Sometimes short speeches and ap- 
 propriate songs were an accompaniment of the "pole- 
 raising. ' ' 
 
 Perhaps in the following week on the opposite side 
 of the street a second pole would be raised for other 
 candidates, indeed in some cases no less than three poles
 
 148 "An Old Public Functionary" 
 
 could be seen in the same village, each one floating a 
 partisan flag. 
 
 Buchanan was an elderly man and his friends were 
 fond of referring to him as an "Old Public Function- 
 ary"; this because he had long held office and with 
 credit to himself had been United States Senator, Sec- 
 retary of State and Minister to England. 
 
 The election in 1856 came on a cold, raw, rainy day, 
 the kind which my elders said always favored the Dem- 
 ocrats. Be this as it may, the Democrats carried the 
 day and on March 4, 1857, Buchanan was inaugurated 
 President of the United States and continued in office 
 till four years later he was succeeded by that Illinoisian 
 among Illinoisians, Abraham Lincoln.
 
 Type of Frame House Common in the Late 50's. 
 
 \\ ' ' 
 
 Bedstead, Trundlebed and Some Articles of Every Day Use. 
 (Loaned by O. W. Converse, Springfield, 111.)
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 SLAVERY AND THE LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATE. 
 
 Slavery is a blessing established by God's decree and sanc- 
 tioned by the Bible from Genesis to Revelations. Jefferson Davis. 
 
 We now know that slavery was a gigantic mistake, and that 
 Emerson was right when he said, "One end of the slave's chain 
 is always riveted to the wrist of the master." Gen. John B. 
 Gordon, (C. S. A.) 
 
 The incurability of the evil is one of the greatest objections 
 to the extension of slavery. Thomas Benton. 
 
 Slaves in a land of light and law; 
 Slaves crouching on the very plains 
 Where roll'd the storm of freedom's war. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 On March 1, 1845, three days before the close of Pres- 
 ident Tyler's administration by joint resolution of the 
 two houses of Congress, Texas was annexed to the United 
 States an event that proved to be far-reaching in its 
 consequences. Indeed, it is perhaps not too much to 
 say that this was the first Act in a great drama upon 
 which the curtain rose not to go down till Lee surren- 
 dered at Appomattox, twenty years later. At the period 
 of the Texas annexation the Southern slave-holders were 
 at the very zenith of their power and with high-handed 
 determination were bent on effecting the greatest possi- 
 ble extension of slavery. Moreover, in striving to ac- 
 complish their purposes they were so energetic, so per- 
 sistent and so dominant that all else was made to seem 
 insignificant by comparison. Impressed with this state 
 
 (149)
 
 150 War With Mexico 
 
 of affairs, Lord Macaulay said in the British Parliament, 
 "That Nation (the United States) is the champion and 
 upholder of slavery. They (the people of the U. S.) 
 seek to extend slavery with more energy than was ever 
 exerted by any nation to diffuse civilization." 
 
 In 1822, while- Texas was yet a part of Mexico, the 
 latter country abolished slavery throughout its whole ex- 
 tent. But notwithstanding the fact that Texas had thus 
 become free soil, emigrants from our Southern States 
 went thither and carried with them their slaves and 
 kept them in bondage. 
 
 In 1836 the inhabitants of Texas declared their inde- 
 pendence of Mexico and organized a Republic. This 
 action on the part of Texas resulted in war between that 
 country and Mexico which in one form or another, con- 
 tinued till the former was annexed to the United States, 
 nine years later. 
 
 During the whole time that the Texas annexation 
 scheme was under consideration, Mexico was on the 
 alert and keenly alive to the situation; and no sooner 
 had President Tyler signed the joint resolution than 
 the Mexican Minister at Washington asked for his pass- 
 ports and left for his own country. 
 
 On March 4, 1845, James K. Polk succeeded John 
 Tyler in the presidential chair, where one of his chief 
 inheritances was our strained relations with Mexico. 
 But instead of endeavoring to pour oil on the troubled 
 waters instead of striving to modify and ameliorate 
 our strained relations he, in a few months, sent an 
 "Army of Occupation" to the Mexican border and 
 ordered a strong fleet to take position at Vera Cruz and, 
 as was doubtless intended, war with Mexico was the re- 
 sult. A war that lasted through 1846-7 and ended early
 
 Gold and Free-State Emigration 151 
 
 in 1848 when a treaty of peace was made between the 
 two countries and our late enemy ceded to us California 
 and New Mexico, and acquiesced in our possession of 
 Texas. 
 
 Thus it came about that John Tyler, a southern presi- 
 dent, aided and abetted by Southern leaders, brought 
 about the annexation of Texas ; and James K. Polk, an- 
 other Southern president, aided and abetted by South- 
 ern leaders, precipitated this country into a war with 
 Mexico all to extend the area of slave-labor. But, 
 
 "There is a divinity that shapes our ends 
 Rough-hew them how we may." 
 
 The Southerners had certainly "rough-hewn" their 
 "ends", but a "divinity", which had in no sense en- 
 tered into their calculations, was destined to "shape" 
 them. This last came about in consequence of the dis- 
 covery of gold in California in large quantities and the 
 resulting great emigration to that New El Dorado. Most 
 of the -emigrants, however, were from the free States, a 
 fact that had a direct bearing, two years later, when Cal- 
 ifornia applied for admission in the Union as a free 
 State. That California, a part of the domain which the 
 slave holders had regarded as peculiarly their own, 
 should apply for admission as a free State aroused the 
 ire of Southern leaders and as a result there occurred, 
 between the foes and friends of slavery, one of the long- 
 est and most , acrimonious discussions in our history ; 
 and the Southerners, as had become their habit, threat- 
 ened to break up the Union. 
 
 At this period Clay, Calhoun and Webster, were all 
 in the United States Senate and each bore a conspicuous 
 part in the long-drawn-out discussion following the pro-
 
 152 The "Omnibus" BUI 
 
 posed admission of California. Indeed, this proved to 
 be their last conspicuous service in the Senate, where 
 for many years the mere word of each carried almost 
 the weight of law. They were known as the great ' ' Tri- 
 umvirate" and the upper House of Congress never be- 
 fore and never since knew their equals. Henry Clay, 
 long a Senator from Kentucky, although a slave owner, 
 recognized the many evils of the peculiar institution 
 and hoped for the day when it would be abolished. Web- 
 ster, the great Senator from Massachusetts, through the 
 whole of his life was opposed to slavery. Calhoun, who 
 through the most of his public career represented South 
 Carolina in the National Senate, was a defender of 
 slavery and looked upon it as only a little short of a 
 divine institution. Clay and Webster were devoted to 
 the union of the States, and for this were ready to sac- 
 rifice anything but principle. Calhoun, on the contrary, 
 held the peculiar interests of the Southern slaveholding 
 States beyond and above the Union. He loved the Union 
 perhaps, but the South vastly more. 
 
 When the discussion over the admission of California 
 had reached a stage of white heat, Clay, who had come 
 to be known as the great "compromiser", sought to pour 
 oil on the troubled waters by introducing a number of 
 measures in the way of compromise, which later came to 
 be known as the "omnibus" bill. In effect these pro- 
 vided that California should be immediately admitted; 
 that the slave-trade should be abolished in the District 
 of Columbia ; that the abolition of slavery in the District 
 of Columbia be deemed not advisable ; that the Territory 
 of New Mexico be organized, etc. 
 
 In support of these measures Clay made a speech that 
 occupied the greater part of two days and in this he
 
 Webster's Seventh of March Speech 153 
 
 brought to bear all his gifts of eloquence and all his in- 
 fluence and varied powers of persuasion. Calhoun pre- 
 pared a carefully written speech, but as he was in poor 
 health and very weak, this was read in the Senate by 
 Senator Mason of Virginia. That Calhoun 's speech was 
 able, masterly and, from his viewpoint, logical, need not 
 be said. But in a sense it was the "song of the dying 
 swan"; for in less than four weeks, namely, on March 
 31, 1850, that great apostle of Southern rights and life- 
 long defender and eulogist of African slavery, breathed 
 his last. 
 
 Three days subsequent to the reading of Calhoun 's 
 address, Webster delivered in the U. S. Senate his fa- 
 mous Seventh of March speech which was both a reply to 
 Calhoun and an earnest plea for the adoption of Clay's 
 compromise measures. Webster's speech on this occa- 
 sion was a bitter disappointment to most of his life-long 
 friends. Among the latter was the poet Whittier who 
 gave vent to his feelings by writing Ichabod ! 
 
 "So fallen ! So lost ! the light withdrawn 
 
 Which once he wore ! 
 The glory gone from his gray hairs 
 
 Forever more ! 
 Of all we loved and honored, naught 
 
 Save power remains : 
 A fallen angel's pride of thought 
 
 Still strong in chains." 
 
 In his speech Webster advocated a stronger fugitive 
 slave-law and apologized for and, in a sense, justified 
 the institution of slavery and for this many of his old 
 friends never forgave him. In extenuation it may be 
 said that he believed the Union was in danger of disso- 
 lution, and this danger appealed to him, as nothing else
 
 154 "There Were Giants in Those Days" 
 
 could; for while he loved freedom, he loved the Union 
 more. 
 
 In the end California came in the Union as a free 
 State, the fugitive slave-law was made stronger, the Ter- 
 ritory Of New Mexico was organized, and, indeed, sub- 
 statntially all of Clay's measures were adopted. How- 
 ever, these were adopted singly and not in the "omni- 
 bus" bill as was Clay's first proposal. 
 
 The death of both Clay and Webster occurred in 1852, 
 two years after that of Calhoun. The passing of these 
 great men marked the end of an era, the one which im- 
 mediately followed that of the Revolution. Washing- 
 ton, John Adams, Hamilton, Jefferson and Madison were 
 representatives of the Revolutionary era as Clay, Ben- 
 ton, Webster and Calhoun were of that immediately fol- 
 lowing. All of these great men, save Calhoun, knew the 
 evils of slavery, were opposed to its further extension, 
 and hoped for its ultimate extinction. 
 
 Calhoun, the great apostle of Southern rights, had not 
 a few things in common with Webster, the eloquent ad- 
 vocate of a permanent and indissoluble Union. Both 
 were born in 1782. Both were intellectual giants. Both 
 were gifted orators who clothed their thoughts in clear, 
 terse English. Both had logical minds and both were 
 disposed to probe a subject to its ultimate depths. But 
 here the similarity ended and divergence begins; Cal- 
 houn hailed from South Carolina and was the idol of 
 the Slave Power. Webster came from Massachusetts 
 and voiced the sentiment of liberty-loving New England. 
 Calhoun asserted the divine right of property in man 
 and urged the necessity of slave labor. Webster pro- 
 claimed the elevating tendency of free institutions and 
 the sufficiency and dignity of free labor. Calhoun ex-
 
 Freedom Versus Slavery 155 
 
 amined the theory of our government, came to believe 
 in the sovereignty of the States, and thought the Union 
 only a compact. Webster delved yet deeper in the sci- 
 ence of government, searched our early National history, 
 studied the constitution, and proclaimed the wisdom, 
 glory and perpetuity of the Union. Calhoun favored 
 slavery and the Union if practicable, but upheld the 
 South and its interests at all hazards. Webster plead 
 for the prevalence of free institutions, but above all else 
 stood for the Union. Calhoun 's tenets were the shifting 
 sands upon which later, the ruins of the "lost cause" 
 were destined to lie scattered in hopeless confusion. Web- 
 ster's teachings were the immovable Rock upon which 
 were laid the enduring foundations of what is today our 
 National Union. 
 
 Meanwhile a third generation of Statesmen had come 
 to the front who, as representative of their several con- 
 stituencies, were by no means as conservative on the 
 slavery question as were most of the leaders who pre- 
 ceded them. Seward, Chase, Summer, Wade, Thadeus 
 ("Thad"),, Stevens and others from the North, as rad- 
 ically opposed the further advance of slavery as the 
 extension of that institution was earnestly advocated by 
 Jefferson Davis, Toombs, Foote, Yancey, Benjamin and 
 Alexander H. Stevens of the newer and more radical 
 South that knew not Benton and Clay. But notwith- 
 standing the sharp differences of these men, after the 
 admission of California and the coincident compromise 
 legislation of 1850, the excitement and agitation on the 
 slavery question for the time died awaj r ; so that when 
 in 1853 President Pierce was inaugurated, he congratu- 
 lated the country upon the peaceful and quiet state of 
 the public mind and more especially on the happy, and
 
 156 Missouri Compromise 
 
 as he believed, permanent settlement of all differences 
 on the slavery question. But these pacific appearances 
 were but a lull in the storm that was to again break upon 
 the country a storm that was destined to come with re- 
 newed energy, burst with terrific force and envelope the 
 whole land till the political atmosphere was forever 
 cleared of that poisonous taint slavery. 
 
 This storm fell upon the country when on May 30, 
 1854, less than fifteen months after President Pierce 's 
 prediction that the slavery question had been perma- 
 nently settled, the Missouri Compromise was repealed 
 after a long and bitter discussion in which Senator 
 Stephen A. Douglas, prime mover in the matter, bore a 
 leading part. 
 
 Here it may not be out of place to say that the Mis- 
 souri Compromise became the law of the land in 1820, 
 and by its provisions African slavery was forbidden to 
 go north of the line, 36, 30'. By the Free State men, 
 the Missouri Compromise had come to be regarded as a 
 sort of bulwark against the northward encroachments of 
 slavery, consequently, when under the lead of Senator 
 Douglas this compact was repealed there was great in- 
 dignation and excitement throughout the whole of the 
 Northern States. The slavery question was in every 
 one's mind and like Banquo's ghost would not down. 
 Every village, every hamlet, indeed, almost every cross- 
 roads became a center for the consideration and discus- 
 sion of this burning issue. 
 
 Speaking of the animus of the repeal of the Missouri 
 Compromise Senator Chase of Ohio said : ' ' It is slavery 
 that renews the strife. It is slavery that again wants 
 room. It is slavery with its insatiate demand for more 
 territory and more Slave States. And what does slavery
 
 Horace Greely and The New York Tribune 157 
 
 ask for now? Why, sir, it demands that a sacred and 
 time-honored compact shall be rescinded a compact 
 which has been universally regarded as inviolable north 
 and south a compact by which all have consented to 
 abide." 
 
 The New York Tribune was the recognized organ of 
 the Free Soilers and, as elsewhere said, its publisher, 
 Horace Greely, was then in the very prime of his power 
 as a great newspaper editor. It seemed to be his especial 
 delight to show up the almost innumerable evils of 
 slavery and likewise the many unworthy aims and mis- 
 deeds of the slaveholders. Practically all the Free Soil- 
 ers, in what is today the Middle West (then the West), 
 were subscribers to, and close and careful readers of 
 Greely 's Tribune. Upon not a few this paper made such 
 a deep impression that they came to rate it next to the 
 Bible. On the other hand no words would suffice to ex- 
 press the contempt and hate felt in some quarters for 
 Greely 's organ. 
 
 Coincident with the repeal of the Compromise the Ter- 
 ritories of Kansas and Nebraska were organized. Des- 
 perate efforts were made by the South to people Kansas 
 with inhabitants favorable to slavery. But the North 
 was equally determined that freedom should have a voice 
 on the broad prairies of that virgin land, and hence 
 emigrants poured in from the Free State much faster 
 than they possibly could from the South. But what the 
 Slave Power failed to win fairly was sought to be secured 
 by usurpation : And when the first election for a Terri- 
 torial legislature was held, hordes of Missouri residents 
 went over into Kansas, took possession of the ballot boxes 
 at many of the voting places, and thus sought to turn 
 everything in the interests of slavery. It was under these
 
 158 A Fraudulent Election 
 
 circumstances that six thousand votes were cast, not- 
 withstanding the fact that the legal votes of Kansas 
 numbered less than three thousand. Strange to say, 
 these outrages were sustained by the administration at 
 Washington at the head of which was President Pierce, 
 a native, and life-long resident, of New Hampshire ! 
 
 We crossed the prairie, as of old 
 
 The Pilgrims crossed the sea, 
 To make the West, as they the East, 
 
 The homestead of the free. 
 We go to rear a wall of men 
 
 On Freedom's southern line, 
 And plant beside the cotton-tree 
 
 The Rugged Northern Pine. 
 
 We're flowing from our native hills 
 
 As our free rivers flow ; 
 The blessing of our Mother-land 
 
 Is with us as we go. 
 Upbearing like the Ark of God, 
 
 The Bible in our van, 
 We go to test the truth of God 
 
 Against the fraud of Man. 
 
 No pause, nor rest, save where the streams 
 
 That feed the Kansas run, 
 Save where our Pilgrim gonfalon 
 
 Shall flout the setting sun. 
 We'll tread the prairie, as of old 
 
 Our fathers sailed the sea; 
 
 And make the West as they the East 
 
 The homestead of the free. 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 
 The slavery agitation following the repeal of the Mis- 
 souri Compromise produced some strange and unlocked-
 
 Some Political After-Math 159 
 
 for results. Among these none was more striking than 
 its effects upon Senator Benton of Missouri and Senator 
 Cass of Michigan. 
 
 Thomas Benton, long a resident and Senator from 
 Missouri, in the face of what he knew to be the public 
 sentiment of that commonwealth, voted against the re- 
 peal of the Missouri Compromise. 
 
 Lewis Cass, a native of New Hampshire, long a Sen- 
 ator from and resident of the State of Michigan, voted 
 for the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, in opposition 
 to what was known to be the sentiment of his constit- 
 uents. 
 
 Missouri refused to return Benton to the Senate, and 
 in his place sent James S. Green, an ultra southern 
 Democrat, who would leave no stone unturned to further 
 the interests of the Slave Power. Likewise, Michigan 
 refused to return Lewis Cass and sent to the National 
 Senate in lieu of him, Zachariah Chandler, a Republican 
 who would oppose the aggressions of the slavery prop- 
 agandists to the extent of his ability. 
 
 The repeal of the Missouri Compromise set in motion 
 a sort of political cyclone that upheaved political combi- 
 nations, wrecked political parties and tore asunder the 
 political affiliations of a lifetime. The "Old-Line" 
 Whig party, of which Clay had been the idol and Web- 
 ster the prophet, went down, in the slavery agitation 
 following the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, never 
 to rise again. Meantime many thousands who had been 
 life-long adherents of the Democratic party withdrew 
 from that organization because it endorsed African 
 slavery and either supported or winked at the efforts of 
 slave propagandists. All these dissatisfied elements 
 finally came together and organized the Republican
 
 160 Buchanan Inaugurated President 
 
 party whose avowed purpose was, if possible, to prevent 
 the further spread of slavery, but with no intent to dis- 
 turb that institution where it lawfully existed. 
 
 In 1856 Fremont and Dayton, Republican candidates 
 for President and Vice-President, respectively, carried 
 most of the Northern States, but failed in enough of 
 these to turn the election to James Buchanan, the Dem- 
 ocratic candidate. President Buchanan, a native and 
 life-long resident of Pennsylvania, was inaugurated on 
 March 4, 1857. But notwithstanding his northern birth 
 and association he had not long been in office till he 
 became as subservient to southern interests and slavery 
 aggressions as had been his predecessor, President Pierce 
 who, as we have seen, was a native and life-long resident 
 of New England. 
 
 Relative to slavery, there were at this period what 
 might be termed four chief schools of thought. First 
 the old-time Abolitionists who believed that slavery was 
 the worst of evils and its practice a crime; and who 
 had representatives in such men as Wendell Phillips, 
 Garrison, Gerret Smith, and Lovejoy. Second, the Re- 
 publicans who were opposed to the further extension 
 of slavery, but were not disposed to interfere with it in 
 the Slave States; Seward, Lincoln, Chase and others 
 were leaders in this view. Third, those who believed 
 in popular sovereignty, familiarly called "squatter sov- 
 ereignty" which contemplated leaving to the inhab- 
 itants of a Territory the decision of the question of 
 whether they should or should not have slavery; but 
 the adherents of popular sovereignty declared that they 
 did not care whether slavery was "voted up, or down" 
 Senator Douglas was the great apostle of this view. 
 A fourth school of thought was that founded by John
 
 The Dred Scott Decision 161 
 
 C. Calhoun who claimed that a slave holder had the 
 same inherent right to take his slaves to a Territory 
 that a man from a Free State had to take his hogs, 
 horses arid cattle. Jefferson Davis, Toombs, Yancey, 
 Mason, Slidell and indeed, all the ultra Southern Dem- 
 ocrats held to this view. 
 
 The Calhoun school went so far as to claim that slavery 
 was national and freedom sectional. To give sanction 
 to the idea that slaves were only chattels the ultra slave- 
 holders contrived to have a case in point come up before 
 the United States Supreme Court, and in due time the 
 majority of the members of that body rendered a de- 
 cision to the effect that a black man had no rights that 
 a white man was bound to respect. This was popularly 
 known as the "Dred-Scott" decision, from the fact that 
 Dred Scott was the name of the negro whose status, 
 relative to slavery, gave rise to the legal question in con- 
 troversy. This decision was handed down in 1857, a 
 short time after President Buchanan took the oath of 
 office and by whom it was accepted as final. But this 
 the opponents of slavery refused to do. v 
 
 At this period things on the surface looked especially 
 encouraging for southern plans and aspirations. James 
 Buchanan, the newly installed chief executive, seemed 
 disposed to go any length to satisfy the demands of the 
 Slave Power and the Dred Scott decision making it legal 
 for slave holders to take their slaves to the territories 
 had just been handed down. 
 
 Douglas, the chief exponent of "popular sover- 
 eignty", was a very remarkable man who by sheer 
 ability and industry had risen to be one of the most 
 prominent members of the United States Senate. This 
 prominence was added to by the leading part he bore
 
 162 Illinois Becomes a Political Storm-Center 
 
 in the repeal of the Missouri Compromise and which 
 in the fullest sense brought him! in the limelight in 
 the limelight, however, of very much popular disfavor, 
 Douglas had a great deal of personal magnetism, ''made 
 hosts of friends, and his partisan followers almost wor- 
 shiped him. But the repeal of the Compromise was 
 like the overturning of a hornet's nest. Consequently 
 political friends were converted into pronounced ene- 
 mies, devoted followers were alienated, and the erst- 
 while idol became the victim of the most bitter criticism. 
 Meanwhile the struggle in Kansas kept up and inten- 
 sified the excitement among the people; and in the 
 midst of this the second senatorial term of Douglas was 
 approaching its end. Accordingly in the spring of 
 1858 he began making speeches to his Illinois constitu- 
 ents in defense of his course in Washington. As a re- 
 sult the "Prairie State" became a veritable storm-cen- 
 ter of the "Question of Questions". 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when Abraham Lincoln, 
 a Springfield lawyer whose political experience covered 
 two terms in the Illinois Legislature in the late thirties, 
 and one term in Congress during the Mexican war, be- 
 came deeply interested in what was uppermost in the 
 people's minds, the "Questions of Questions," and chal- 
 lenged Senator Douglas to meet him, and discuss, in 
 public, the various phases of the slavery issue. Douglas 
 accepted the challenge and in the late summer and early 
 fall of 1858 the people of Illinois had the rare privilege 
 of witnessing a contest between two giants and listening 
 to a discussion such as the world had seldom or never 
 heard before. 
 
 In all there were seven joint discussions and these 
 occurred respectively at Galesburg, Ottawa, Freeport r
 
 Senator Stephen A. Douglas.
 
 The Lincoln-Douglas Debate 163 
 
 in Northern Illinois; Jonesboro, in Southern Illinois; 
 Charleston, in Eastern Illinois, and Alton, Quincy and 
 Galesburg, in Western Illinois. In addition each of the 
 contestants spoke in most of the remaining counties. At 
 that time I was a resident of Bond county where a date 
 was fixed for Lincoln to speak in Greenville,, our county 
 seat. As all my people were in accord with Lincoln and 
 as he was recognized as an able exponent of the anti- 
 slavery cause, I very naturally was desirous of hearing 
 him. But unfortunately for me when the long-looked- 
 forward-to day came I was in bed suffering from an 
 acute attack of illness. As will be readily inferred my 
 disappointment was great, so great, indeed, that my re- 
 gret at not being able to hear and see Lincoln when he 
 came to our county, extends to this hour. 
 
 But what was my itt-fortune proves to be my readers' 
 good-f ortune ; for instead of offering them my impres- 
 sions of the greatest character of the nineteenth century, 
 I have had the good luck to secure some Lincoln remin- 
 iscences from a far abler pen than my own that of 
 Stephen A. Forbes, Ph.D., LL.D., of the University of 
 Illinois, who as a youth was privileged to attend the . 
 joint-discussion at Freeport, a graphic account of which 
 follows : 
 University of Illinois 
 
 Urbana, Illinois, March 27, 1917. 
 Dr. C. B. Johnson 
 
 Champaign, Illinois 
 Dear Doctor Johnson : 
 
 When I was a boy of fourteen I had the good for- 
 tune to see and hear Lincoln in one of his series of 
 historic debates with Douglas that at Freeport, in 
 Northern Illinois, August 26, 1858. My father, who
 
 164 young Forbes Sees and Hears Lincoln 
 
 had died four years before, had been an anti-slavery 
 Whig, although not a man of partisan temper, and my 
 brother, eleven years older than I and the head of the 
 family since my father's death, was strongly opposed 
 to slavery. I had myself read Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin," shortly after it came out in the numbers 
 of the National Era in 1851, and I suppose, conse- 
 quently, that I must have come up to the Freeport mass 
 meeting with distinct prepossessions in Lincoln's favor. 
 I do not remember, however, that I had any very defi- 
 nite party feeling in any direction, being, in fact, too 
 young, or, rather, too immature, for that, unless inter- 
 ested and aroused by some unusual circumstance. This 
 Lincoln and Douglas debate was such a circumstance; 
 and I came away from it quite aflame with enthusiasm 
 for the new Republican party and especially for Lin- 
 coln as its champion, and equally incensed against 
 Douglas as the leader and champion of the Democrats. 
 These boyish impressions fixed my politics, as it proved, 
 for life, and did more than anything else to send me into 
 the Union Army only three years later and to hold me 
 there until the end of the Civil War. As I must have 
 been a "fair sample" of hundreds of youths of the day 
 who had a similar experience, I am writing you now to 
 redeem my promise that I would give you a description 
 of the impressions which led to this result. 
 
 The debate at Freeport was held in a natural grove 
 on the outskirts of the town, open enough to permit the 
 growth of a grassy turf, and the great throng assembled 
 from the surrounding country stood, so far as I remem- 
 ber, during the whole debate. At any rate I did so my- 
 self, and having pushed my way, after the fashion of 
 boys, to the very front of the assembly, I was within a
 
 "A Great Mind in Vigorous Action" 165 
 
 few feet of the low platform from which the speeches 
 were made, and both heard and saw everything which 
 went on. The contrast between the two speakers was 
 simply immense, not in physique and bearing only, but 
 in their relations to their partisans and to their audi- 
 ence as a whole. Lincoln seemed a man of the people, 
 homelier, simpler, and plainer than the average of those 
 before him one who had risen above the common level 
 by sheer force of intellect and conspicuous moral worth. 
 His arguments were as direct in their appeal to Demo- 
 crats as to Republicans, and his speech made no call 
 upon the party passion of his followers; he seemed not 
 so much to aim at the vindication of his party as to 
 persuade and convince the fair-minded, the open-minded 
 and the undecided of whatever previous party affilia- 
 tions. 
 
 Douglas, on the other hand, was the aggressive, com- 
 bative, defiant party leader seeking to arouse his follow- 
 ers to a kind of party fury, and to brow-beat and cowe 
 his opponents by a violence of bearing and expressions 
 of contempt which were at times little short of insulting. 
 
 When Lincoln arose to open the debate, my first feel- 
 ing was a genuine shock of surprise, of disappointment, 
 of chagrin at his homeliness, his awkwardness, his plain- 
 ness of attire at the farthest remove from the bearing, 
 look, and dress of a boy 's ideal ; but when he began his 
 argument in his high, penetrating voice, calm, clear, 
 connected, and so simple and lucid that even I could 
 follow it without effort, I got the first impression of my 
 life of a truly lofty character and a great mind in vig- 
 orous action. 
 
 Lincoln, as you will remember, made the opening 
 speech at Freeport, and although his most telling points
 
 166 One Listener "Talks Back" 
 
 were enthusiastically applauded, there was practically 
 nothing in the responses of his audience to indicate that 
 there were any Democrats among them. Douglas, in 
 fact, opened his rejoinder with a compliment, not to the 
 speaker for his calm and persuasive speech, but to the 
 assembly for "the kind and respectful attention which 
 they yielded not only to political friends but to those 
 opposed to them in politics." He himself received at 
 first the same kind of treatment, being even more fre- 
 quently and vociferously applauded than Lincoln; but 
 as he warmed up to his argument he began seemingly 
 to try to irritate his opponents by calling them always 
 "black" Republicans, with an angry and contemptuous 
 emphasis on the word "black." The taunt was re- 
 ceived in silence for a few times, and then loud cries of 
 "white, white," began to come from all directions, every 
 time he used the offensive epithet, and the clamor pres- 
 ently became so great, after a peculiarly irritating ap- 
 plication of it, that Douglas paused to remind his hearers 
 ""that while Lincoln was speaking there was not a Dem- 
 ocrat vulgar and blackguard enough to interrupt him." 
 It was at this point that my adhesion to republicanism 
 became complete, and I shouted up to Douglas at the 
 top of my boyish voice: "Lincoln didn't use any such 
 talk." I was sharply reproved by those about me, and 
 told that I must not "talk back"; and so stood in mor- 
 tified silence until Lincoln again took the stand, when 
 he began by saying: "The first thing I have to say to 
 you is a word in regard to Judge Douglas's declaration 
 about the 'vulgarity and blackguardism' in the 5 audi- 
 ence, that no such thing as he says, was shown by any 
 Democrat while I was speaking. Now, I only wish, by 
 way of reply on this subject, to say that while / was
 
 "Who Is This Man Lincoln f" 167 
 
 speaking, / used no 'vulgarity or blackguardism' toward 
 any Democrat." With this elaboration of my own sen- 
 timent I need not say that I was relieved and delighted, 
 or that I joined in the hearty "laughter and applause" 
 with which the verbatim account of the speech says that 
 this rejoinder was received. The published report, by 
 the way, is not complete at this point, for I distinctly 
 remember that Lincoln twice used the word "gentle- 
 man," saying that the Democrats treated him like gen- 
 tlemen, because he treated them as a gentleman should. 
 
 This was, of course, the crisis of my day's experience, 
 and I recall nothing else of any consequence, probably 
 because I had had my fill, and, like Abner Dean of the 
 Stanislaus, the subsequent proceedings interested me 
 no more. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 STEPHEN A. FORBES. 
 
 While the leaders had implicit confidence in Lincoln's 
 ability to hold his own many others were in dread lest 
 their champion would prove no match for Douglas. As 
 for the Democrats they spoke contemptuously of Lin- 
 coln and were confident he would be badly worsted. 
 
 Time works many changes. In 1858 the question 
 often asked was, "Who is this man Lincoln?" And the 
 answer not infrequently was, "Oh, he's a lawyer from 
 Springfield who imagines he jean debate with Douglas ! ' ' 
 The manner and tone in which these last words were 
 spoken cannot be conveyed, but told much of the speak- 
 er's contempt for what he conceived Lincoln would be 
 able to achieve. 
 
 Today the young inquirer asks, "Who was Stephen 
 A. Douglas?" And the answer that the old citizen
 
 168 Young Putnam at Cooper Union 
 
 makes is, "Oh, he's the man who opposed Lincoln in 
 the great debate of 1858." 
 
 In a word, in the fifties Douglas brought the un- 
 known Lincoln in the lime-light ; today the fame of Lin- 
 coln rescues Douglas from obscurity. 
 
 But notwithstanding the fears of some, in a moral 
 and intellectual way, Lincoln more than held his own 
 and really came out victor over the "Little Giant," as 
 the admirers of Douglas were fond of calling him. But 
 while in the election following the great debate Lincoln 
 received the largest popular vote, yet the majority of 
 the legislators elected were for Douglas and consequent- 
 ly he was returned to the national senate. 
 
 Although Lincoln failed of election he won a reputa- 
 tion in his debate with Douglas that could not be con- 
 fined within state limits; and later he accepted an invi- 
 tation to address an audience in New York City where 
 he delivered, his famous Cooper Institute speech that 
 added greatly to his reputation in the East, and later 
 helped him to win the presidential nomination. 
 
 One of Lincoln 's greatly interested hearers was a cer- 
 tain youth who later recorded what he heard, saw and 
 felt on that memorable occasion as follows:* 
 
 "In February, 1860, it was my good fortune to se- 
 cure a personal glimpse of Abraham Lincoln, the man 
 who was to have the responsibility as leader in the great 
 contest for the maintenance of the Republic. Lincoln 
 had been invited by certain of the Republican leaders 
 in New York to deliver the first of a series of addresses 
 which had been planned to make clear to the voters the 
 
 *George Haven Putnam in "Memories of My Youth", G. P. 
 Putnam's Sons, New York, 1914.
 
 The Man From the Prairies 169 
 
 purposes and the principles of the new party. As a 
 result of the series of debates 1 with Douglas in 1858, 
 Lincoln's name had become known to many Republi- 
 cans in the East. It was recognized that he had shown 
 clear understanding of the principles on which the new 
 party had been organized and that his counsel should 
 prove of distinctive service in the shaping of the policy 
 of the coming Presidential campaign. The Committee 
 of Invitation included, in addition to a group of the old 
 Whigs, of whom my father was one, representatives of 
 Free-Soil Democrats such as. William Cullen Bryant 
 and John King. 
 
 Lincoln's methods as a political leader and orator 
 were known to one 6r two men on the Committee, but 
 his name was still unfamiliar to an Eastern audience. 
 It was understood that the new leader from the West 
 was going to talk to New York about the fight against 
 slavery; and it is probable that the larger part of the 
 audience expected something "wild and woolly". The 
 West at that time seemed very far off from New York 
 and was still but little understood or little realized by 
 the communities of the East. New York found it diffi- 
 cult to believe that a man from the prairies could have 
 anything to say that would count with the cultivated 
 citizens of the metropolis. The more optimistic of the 
 hearers were hoping that perhaps a new Henry Clay 
 had arisen, and these were looking for utterances of the 
 ornate and grandiloquent kind, such as they had heard 
 from Henry Clay and from other statesmen of the 
 South. 
 
 My father had the opportunity, as a member of the 
 Committee, of smuggling me in upon the platform at 
 Cooper Union, and from the corner where I sat, I had
 
 170 Not "Wild and Woolly" 
 
 a fair view of the speaker. The meeting was presided 
 over by Bryant and the contrast between the cultivated 
 chairman and the speaker was marked. Bryant, while 
 short, gave the impression at once of dignity and of 
 control. His magnificent big head, with the mass of 
 flowing hair, was that of a bard. Bryant's fame as a 
 poet has possibly eclipsed the importance of his service 
 as an editorial teacher with the highest standards of 
 citizenship and as a wise and patriotic leader of public 
 opinion. 
 
 The first impression of the man from the West did 
 nothing to contradict the expectation of something 
 weird, rough, and uncultivated. The long, ungainly 
 figure upon which hung clothes that, while newly made 
 for this trip, were evidently the work of an unskilled 
 tailor; the large feet and the clumsy hands of which, 
 at the outset at least, the speaker seemed to be unduly 
 conscious; the long gaunt head, capped by a shock of 
 hair that seemed not to have been thoroughly brushed 
 out, made a picture which did not fit in with New 
 York's conception of a finished statesman. The first 
 utterance of the voice was not pleasant to the ear, the 
 tone being harsh and the key too high. As the speech 
 progressed, however, the voice gained a natural and 
 impressive modulation, the gestures were dignified and 
 natural, and the hearers found themselves under the 
 influence of the earnest look from the deeply set eyes 
 and of the absolute integrity of purpose and of devo- 
 tion to principle which impressed the thought and the 
 words of the speaker. In place of a " wild and woolly ' ' 
 talk, illumined by more or less incongruous anecdotes, 
 in place of a high-strung exhortation of general prin- 
 ciples or of a fierce protest against Southern arrogance,
 
 Restriction of Slavery Insisted Upon 171 
 
 the New Yorkers had presented to them a calm but 
 forcible series of well-reasoned considerations upon 
 which was to be based their action as citizens. 
 
 It was evident that the man from the West under- 
 stood thoroughly the constitutional history of the coun- 
 try; he had mastered the issues that had grown up 
 about the slavery question; he realized, and was pre- 
 pared to respect, the rights of his political opponents. 
 He realized equally the right of the men whose views 
 he was helping to shape, and he insisted that there 
 should be no wavering or weakening in regard to the 
 enforcement of those rights; he made it clear that the 
 continued existence of the nation depended upon the 
 equitable adjustment of these issues, and he held that 
 such adjustment meant the restriction of slavery within 
 its present boundaries. He maintained that such re- 
 striction was just and necessary, as well on the ground 
 of fairness to the blacks as for the final welfare of the 
 whites. He insisted that the voters in the present states 
 of the Union had upon them the largest possible meas- 
 ure of responsibility in so controlling the great domain 
 of the Republic that the States of the future, the States 
 in which their children and their grandchildren were 
 to grow up as citizens, should be preserved in full lib- 
 erty, and be protected against the invasion and the 
 control of the institution that represented barbarity. 
 Such a contention could interfere in no way with the 
 recognition that was due under the obligations, entered 
 into by the grandfathers and confirmed by the fathers, 
 to the property rights of the present owners of slaves. 
 
 With the New Englanders of the anti-slavery group, 
 the speaker emphasized that the restriction of slavery 
 meant its early extermination; and with this belief he
 
 172 Lincoln's Fairness 
 
 insisted that war for the purpose of exterminating sla- 
 very from existing slave territory could not be justified. 
 He was prepared, however, for the purpose of protect- 
 ing against slavery the national territory that was still 
 free, to take the risk of the war which was threatened 
 from the South, because he believed that only through 
 such action could the existence of the nation be main- 
 tained. He believed further that the maintenance of 
 the great Republic was essential not only for the wel- 
 fare of its own citizens but for the interest and the 
 development of free government throughout the world. 
 He spoke with full sympathy of the difficulties and 
 problems resting upon the men of the South, and he 
 insisted that the matters at issue could be adjusted 
 only with a fair recognition of these difficulties. Ag- 
 gression must be withstood from whichever side of Ma- 
 son and Dixon's Line it might be threatened. 
 
 I was but a boy when I first looked upon the gaunt 
 figure of the man who was to be accepted as the peo- 
 ple's leader in the great struggle, and listened to the 
 calm but forcible arguments in behalf of the principles 
 of the Republican party. It is not likely that I took 
 in at the time with any adequate appreciation the 
 weight of the speaker's reasoning. I have read the ad- 
 dress since more than once, and it is, of course, impos- 
 sible to separate my first impressions from my later 
 knowledge. I do remember that I was at once impressed 
 with the feeling that here was a political leader whose 
 methods differed from those of any politician to whom 
 I had listened. His contentions were based not upon 
 invective or abuse of the other fellow, but purely on 
 considerations of justice, on that everlasting principle 
 that what is just, and only what is just, represents the
 
 Presidential Election of 1860 173 
 
 largest and highest interests of the whole nation. As 
 I learned from the later history, this Cooper Union 
 speech gave the keynote for the coming campaign, and 
 it also decided the selection of the national leader not 
 only for the Presidential campaign, but through the 
 coming struggle. It was through the impression made 
 upon New York, and later upon the States of the East, 
 by Lincoln's speech and by the personality of the man, 
 that the votes of New York and New England were se- 
 cured for the nomination in Chicago of the man from 
 Illinois." 
 
 The presidential election of 1860 was the most re- 
 markable and, as the sequel proved, the most eventful 
 political contest in the history of this country. Four 
 tickets were in the field: The Republicans nominated 
 Lincoln and Hamlin; the Northern wing of the Demo- 
 cratic party, Douglas and Herschell V. Johnson ; the 
 Southern wing, J. C. Breckenridge and Joseph Lane; 
 and finally the quickly organized Constitutional Union 
 party brought out John Bell of Tennessee and Edward 
 Everett of Massachusetts. This last was derisively re- 
 ferred to as the "Kangaroo" ticket for the reason that 
 Edward Everett, the candidate for vice-president, was 
 a much abler man than Bell, the candidate for president. 
 It is an interesting fact that while the last named was 
 the only ticket of the four in the field that had the word 
 Union as part of its designation, nevertheless, the man 
 who headed this later became an avowed secessionist and 
 cast his fortunes with the Confederacy. 
 
 That the newly formed Republican party with its 
 avowed opposition to the further extension of slavery 
 appealed specially to my immediate family need not 
 be said.
 
 174 An Ideal Election Day 
 
 I was too young to vote, nevertheless I attended a 
 number of political meetings and listened attentively to 
 the speakers, one of the most eloquent and effective of 
 whom was the older Richard Yates who a little later 
 became the distinguished "War Governor" of Illinois. 
 
 All over the country a great many marching clubs 
 were organized by the Republicans under the name of 
 Wide-awakes". These clubs were largely made up of 
 young men who carried wooden spears in day-time and 
 torches at night. They were for the most part a rollick- 
 ing, joy-loving lot, and no one realized that within two 
 or three years instead of bearing harmless wooden 
 spears, they nearly all would be carrying muskets with 
 which to cripple and slay their fellow-men. 
 
 The presidential election of 1860 fell on November 6 r 
 a day I shall never forget. There was a cloudless sky 
 and the air was as warm and soft as May. "Just the 
 kind of a day for the Democrats to lose," said one of the 
 wise ones. And they did lose. The Republican ticket 
 had 180 votes in the electoral college, a majority of 57 
 over all. 
 
 The Republican popular vote aggregated a little less 
 than two millions ; the Douglas wing of the Democratic 
 party a little more than a million and a quarter; the 
 Breckenridge wing not quite a million; and the Consti- 
 tutional and Union party about six hundred thousand. 
 
 Eight years later the two wings of the Democratic 
 party came together and have since been a unit. The 
 Constitutional Union party died a natural death when 
 the sun went down on the evening of November 6, 1860. 
 
 In less than six weeks after President Lincoln was 
 inaugurated the first shot was fired in one of the greatest 
 Civil Wars in history and, which before its close, was
 
 Destined to Exact a Heavy Toll 175 
 
 destined to exact, as part of its toll, the lives of five 
 hundred thousand young men, the very flower and hope 
 of the land.* But great as was its cost, this struggle 
 preserved the Nation, cemented the Union of the States, 
 and forever settled "The Question of Questions." 
 
 *See "Muskets and Medicine" by the author.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abolitionists, 160 
 "Academy", 101-107 
 Accidents, 18, 50, 128-9 
 A crying need, 27 
 Affairs, a man of, 54 
 Aftermath, political, 158-9 
 Almanacs, 14, 118-19 
 Alton, 163 
 
 American Party, 144 
 American River, 38 
 American Sunday School 
 
 Union, 14-75 
 Amity Hotel, 52 
 "A mighty hot hell", 52 
 Amusements, 76-84 
 Apple orchard, an, 30 
 Apple picking, 30-1 
 Apples, some old-time, 30 
 Appomattox, 149 
 Asiatic cholera, 44-5 
 Atlantic Monthly, 120 
 Authors, 117, 118, 122 
 Bacon, curing of, 19 
 Backlogs, huge, 12 
 Barns, well filled, 29 
 Bar-room, 52 
 Battle line, a, 110, 114 
 Bed furnishings, 14 
 Bed, trundle, 13 
 Bed valances, 14 
 Beds, some old time, 14 
 Bell, John, 173-4 
 Benton, Senator Thomas 
 
 154-9 
 
 "Big" hominy, 19 
 Bond County, 145, 163 
 Books, library, 122 
 Books, medical, 124-7 
 Books, religious, 117 
 Buchanan, President, 146-7- 
 
 8, 161 
 
 Buggies, few in use, 26, 138 
 Bullets, molding, 35 
 "By-sun", hours, 25 
 Cabin, log, 11-19 
 Calhoun, Senator John C., 
 
 151-5 
 California, 36, 37-48, 100, 145, 
 
 151 
 California, gold, 36, 37-48 
 
 Candle-making, 33-4 
 Canning fruit, first, 20 
 Caps, percussion, 78 
 Caps, women's, 16, 17 
 Cass, Senator Lewis, 154-9 
 Cat "out of the bag", 41 
 "Changing the mail", 51 
 Chandler, Senator Zack., 159 
 Characters, some unique, 49, 
 
 108 
 Chase, Senator Salmon P. 
 
 156-7 
 
 Chest, the pioneer's, 15 
 "Chivarees", 82 
 Cholera, 44-5 
 
 Church, an up-to-date, 68-9 
 Church people, 68-75 
 Churches, 68-75 
 Cider and Gingerbread, 143 
 Civil War, 107, 136, 164, 175 
 Clay, Henry, 152-4 
 "Cloven-footed", 70 
 Clocks, few in use, 25 
 Coloma, 38-43 
 Colporteur, 119 
 Cooper Institute speech, 168- 
 
 173 
 
 Comet, Donati's, 83 
 Composition, school, 108 
 Compromise, Missouri, 146 
 
 156 
 Compromise, repeal of, 146 
 
 156-166 
 Constitutional Union Party, 
 
 174-5 
 
 Cyclone, a political, 159 
 Contest, a hunting, 79 
 Cooking utensils, 11-35 
 Cooper Union, 168 
 Cornfield, an Illinois in the 
 
 50's, 108-116 
 
 Counterfeit Detector, 62 
 Daily papers, 119 
 Dame Rumor, 55 
 Davis, Jefferson, 149, 155 
 Death of two forty-niners, 47 
 Debate, questions for, 85-7 
 Debaters, some village, 85-7 
 Declaimers, youthful, 108
 
 Demand, keeping up with, 
 
 27-35 
 
 Democrats, 143-6-8, 167 
 Digging wells, 23 
 Discovery of California gold, 
 
 39 
 Diseases, the more common, 
 
 128-9 
 
 Dishes, blue-edged, 17 
 Divining rod, the, 23 
 Donati's comet, 83 
 Doctor, a botanic, 124-134 
 Doctor, an easy-going, 124-6 
 Doctor, an energetic, 128 
 Doctor, a mineral, 124-134 
 Doctors, two village, 123-133 
 "Dog-irons", 12 
 Douglas, Senator, 136, 156, 
 
 173 
 
 Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, 54 
 Dr. Tansy, 123-133 
 Dr. Tartar, 123-133 
 Dred Scott Decision, 161 
 Drinking water, 13 
 Drying fruit, 20 
 Elections, 142-148, 158, 173 
 Election day, a pleasant, 174 
 Election day, a rainy, 148 
 Era of Clay, Webster and 
 
 Calhoun, 154 
 
 Era of the Revolution, 154 
 Era of Seward, Sumner and 
 
 Chase, 154 
 Everett, Edward, 174 
 Expedient, a profitable, 38,41 
 Fence, a unique, 146 
 Fiddle, a Jerusalem, 32 
 Filmore and Donnelson, 143 
 Fire, borrowing, 18 
 Fire, unquenchable, 70 
 Fireplace, cooking over, 17, 
 
 18, 19 
 Fishermen, a pair of, 91-95 
 
 34 
 
 Food in pioneer" days, 17-21, 
 "Foot-pad", 14 
 Forbes, S. A., 163-7 
 Forbes, young, sees and hears 
 
 Lincoln, 163-7 
 Foot-wear, 25 
 Fort, Sutter's, 36-46 
 Forty-niner, one, 43-5 
 Forty-niners, 43 
 
 Flag-raisings, 147 
 
 Flies, typhoid, (house), 53-4 
 
 Fly-screen, first use of, 53 
 
 Frank Leslies, 120 
 
 Fremont and Dayton, 147 
 
 Freeport, 163-7 
 
 Free schools, first, 101-2 
 
 Free State men, 156-174 
 
 Fruit, drying, 19-20 
 
 Fruit, first canning, 20 
 
 Fruit, wild, 20-1 
 
 Fugitive Slave-law, 154 
 
 Galesburg, 163 
 
 Game, wild, 76-9 
 
 General Scott, 143 
 
 Georgia, 42, 48 
 
 Giants in those days, 154 
 
 Giants, two, 162 
 
 Glimpse, a, of Lincoln, 168 
 
 God's Acre, 134 
 
 Going to mill, 21-2, 91-5 
 
 Gold! Gold, 39 
 
 Gold, California, 36-48, 135 
 
 Gold, first discovered, 39 
 
 Gold digging, 43 
 
 Gold Seekers, 36-48 
 
 Goldsmith, 57, 76, 97-8 
 
 Goose-yokes, 65-6 
 
 Grain-cradle, 11 
 
 Grain, threshing, 32-3 
 
 Greely, Horace, 120, 157 
 
 Greenville, 111., 163 
 
 Green, Senator, J. S., 159 
 
 "Ground-hog", 32 
 
 Harbor, a reptilian, 93-4 
 
 "Hard" money, 61-2 
 
 Harper and Brothers, 122 
 
 Harper's Monthly, 120 
 
 Harper's Weekly, 120 
 
 Heat-plant, the pioneer's, 12 
 
 "Hell" a mighty hot, 52 
 
 "Hell on the Wabash", 128 
 
 Highland, 111., 145 
 
 Highway, a miniature, 125 
 
 Hike's store, 58-66 
 
 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 125 
 
 Home-dyes, 24 
 
 Home-spun, 24, 134 
 
 Horace Greely, 120 
 
 Horn, a hunter's, 13 
 
 Horse-shoe Bend, 93 
 
 Hospitality, a pioneer's, 99 
 
 House, a durable, 28
 
 House, evolution of a, 27-8 
 Hub, the village, 54 
 Hunting contest, a, 79 
 Illinois, 11, 57, 101, 110, 140- 
 
 4-6, 164 
 
 Illinois Territory, 27 
 Industry, a captain of, 36-44 
 Jack-frost, 19 
 Jack Jawgood, 59, 60 
 Jacksonville, 135 
 "Jims", a pair of, 89 
 Johnson, Albert, 107 
 Johnson, Benjamin, 145 
 Johnson, James, 43-5 
 Jones, Benjamin, 27-35 
 Jonesboro, 163 
 "Kangaroo" ticket, 173 
 Kansas, 155 
 Kindling a fire, 18 
 Know-Nothing Party, 144 
 Lager beer in the 50's, 145 
 Lake Michigan, 140 
 Landlord, the, 54 
 Land of Promises, 27, 43, 45 
 Lane, Mr., 54-6 
 Latch-string, on the outside, 
 
 14 
 
 Lawyer, a young, 87-9 
 Lee, General, 149 
 Leggins, 26 
 
 Lessons, some useful, 106 
 Letter, a sad, 47 
 Letters, old-time, 63 
 Library, the village, 122 
 Library, school, 122 
 Life, living a dual, 54-6 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 26, 83, 146, 
 
 160-8 
 
 Lincoln, a glimpse of, 168 
 Lincoln-Douglas Debate, 83, 
 
 162-8 
 
 "Lining" a hymn, 101 
 "Little Giant", 168 
 Literary longings, 121 
 Log School House, 97-100 
 Looking backwards, 131 
 Looking Glass prairie, 76 
 Loom, the hand, 16 
 Lost Cause, 155 
 "Low lies that house", 57 
 Lyceum, the village, 85-9 
 Macaulay, Lord, 149, 150 
 Machinery, crude, 90-7 
 
 Mail pouch, 50-1 
 Maine-law, 144-6 
 "Marketers" and "Movers", 
 
 139, 140 
 
 Marshall, James W., 37 
 Massachusetts, 154 
 Matches, not in use, 18 
 McGuffy's Readers, 106, 120-1 
 Memory, a pleasant, 16, 77 
 Merchant, an enterprising, 
 
 58-66 
 
 Methodists, 68-73 
 Meeting-house, 68 
 Meeting, going to, 68 
 Meeting, Quarterly, 70, 71 
 Mexican War, 150-1, 162 
 Mill-site, an important, 38-9 
 Mississippi River, 140 
 Missouri Compromise, 146, 156 
 Missouri Compromise, repeal 
 
 of, 146, 156-166 
 Missouri Democrat, 120 
 Missouri Republican, 120 
 Missouri River. 44-5 
 Money, how transported, 51 
 Money, hard, 61-2 
 Money, paper, 61-2 
 "Music hath charms", 98-9 
 National Union, 155 
 Nebraska, 44-6, 157 
 "Nectar", 32 
 New Mexico, 152 
 Newsmonger, a, 59, 60 
 Newspapers, 60, 119, 120 
 New York Tribune, 120, 157 
 Orchards, 30-1 
 Organization, a philantrophic, 
 
 80-1 
 O'Connor, an Irish teacher, 
 
 98-100 
 
 Omnibus bill, the, 152-4 
 Outfit, a California, 43-4 
 Overturning, an, 18 
 Panama, 47 
 Paper money, 61-2 
 Paper, weekly, 119, 120 
 Paradise, a child's, 99 
 Parallel between Calhoun and 
 
 Webster, 154-5 
 Pens, goosequills, 100 
 Periodic, a, 56 
 Periodicals in the 50's, 120
 
 Pettifoggers, some village, 
 
 85-9 
 
 Pierce, President, 143, 153-4 
 Picture, an indelible, 15, 16 
 Pioneer, furnishings, 12, 35 
 Pioneer, a progressive, 27-35 
 Pioneers, the, 11 
 Plains, crossing the, 43-5 
 Plenty in promise, 115, 116 
 Plow "diamond", 108-112 
 Plow, prairie, 108-110 
 Pocahontas, 52, 76, 145 
 Politics, 142-148 
 Polk, President, 43, 150-1 
 Pass-time, a popular, 58-9 
 Preacher, an expectorating, 
 
 70 
 
 Preachers, 68-75 
 Preachers, ideal, 71-3-4 
 Presidential election of 1856, 
 
 147 
 Presidential election of 1860, 
 
 173-4 
 
 Protracted meeting, 71-2, 81 
 Publishers in the 50's, 122 
 Putnam, George Haven, 168, 
 
 note 
 
 Putnam's monthly, 120 
 Putnam, young, sees and 
 
 hears Lincoln, 168-173 
 Quarterly Meeting, 70-1 
 Questions for debate, 85-7 
 "Question of Questions", the, 
 
 162-3, 175 
 Quincy, 111., 163 
 Raalways, early 'in Illinois, 
 
 56-7, 135-7 
 
 Rain-water, barrel, 23 
 Raising a school house, 102 
 Reaper and Mower, 11 
 Reading matter, 117-122 
 Remembrance, an indelible, 
 
 103-4 
 Reciprocity among neighbors, 
 
 19 
 
 Reems, Old Billy, 77-8 
 Republican Party, 146-71, 173- 
 
 4 
 Republican Party, first 
 
 named, 146 
 Rifle, Kentucky, 12, 16, 35, 
 
 77-8 
 Rifle, loading a, 78 
 
 Rounder, a religious, 72 
 Sacramento City, 36 
 Sacramento River, 36 
 Sacrifice, an injudicious, 28 
 San Francisco, 45-7 
 Scavenger, supposed, 53-4 
 Schools, 96-107 
 Scholars, 97-107 
 School house, log, 97-100 
 Schools, subscription, 100-2 
 School teachers, 96-107 
 Scott, General, 110 
 Settlers, early, 110 
 Sewing Society, 80 
 "Shakes", the, 128 
 Shawls, men's, 25 
 Shoal Creek, 76, 95 
 Shotgun, 11 
 Shows, 79, 80 
 Showman, a traveling, 80 
 Slavery, 87, 149-175 
 Slave-holders, 79, 149-175 
 Slave-power, 149-175 
 Slogan, a party, 147 
 Smokehouse, the, 19, 33 
 Snakes, many, 112 
 Social gathering, 80-1 
 Songs, some old, 81 
 Soap-making, 22 
 Southern rights, 149-175 
 Space, utilizing, 15 
 Spelling school, 104-5 
 Spinning wheel, 16 
 Spirit-rappings, 84-5 
 "Spit here", 70 
 Sports, 76-84 
 Springs, 23, 110, 111 
 Springfield, 135, 167 
 Stage coach, 49, 138 
 Stage driver, 49 
 Stage-stand, 51-2 
 Stamps, not in use, 63 
 "Steam-cars", 137 
 Stevenson, Robert Louis, 56 
 Stephenson's locomotive, 103 
 Storm-center, a, 162 
 "Store-clothes", 24, 99 
 Stranger, a well dressed, 54 
 Strange but true, 112 
 St. Joseph, Mo., 44 
 St. Louis, Mo., 44-5, 51, 61, 
 
 119, 120 
 Store, a country, 58-66
 
 Subscription schools, 101 
 "Suck-hole", the, 93 
 Surprise, a matrimonial, 80-1 
 Sunday school, 55-6 
 "Sun-up till sun-down", 113 
 Sutter, Captain, 36-42 
 Sutter's Fort, 36-42 
 Tansy, Dr. Tobias, 123-133 
 Tartar, Dr. Salmon, 123-133 
 Teacher, an Irish, 97-100 
 Teachers, faithful, 107 
 Texas, 149-151 
 Three R's, the 103 
 Threshing floor, a, 32 
 Threshing machine, first, 32 
 Tickets, presidential, 147, 
 
 173-4 
 
 Transaction, a puzzling, 143 
 Travel, common modes of, 
 
 138 
 
 "Tricks in all trades", 130 
 Tunes, some old, 74 
 Tyler, President, 149, 150-1 
 Utensils, pioneer, 12-18 
 Utilizing space, 15 
 Union, National, 151-155 
 Valances, bed, 14, 15 
 Village church, 68-75 
 
 Village "club", 61 
 Village debaters, 85-9 
 Village doctors, two, 123-134 
 Village "hub", the 54 
 Village pettifoggers, 85-9 
 Village store, 58-66 
 Wait, Wm. S., 136 
 Wamus, 24-5 
 War Governor, a, 173 
 Water mill, 11, 90-94 
 "Water-Witch", 23 
 Watches, very few, 25 
 Weather predictions, 118, 119 
 Weaving, old-time, 34 
 Webster, Daniel, 151-4 
 Weekly paper, 119, 120 
 Welcome, pioneer's, 14 
 Webster's speller, 103-5 
 Whig party, 143-4, 159, 169 
 Whisky. 64 
 
 Whisky and molasses, 142 
 "Wide-Awakes", 174 
 "Wild-cat" banks, 62 
 "Who is this man Lincoln?", 
 
 67 
 
 Work, strenuous, 116 
 Yates, sr., Governor Richard, 
 
 174
 
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