"Reminiscences By Aaron L. Lanning 1845-1934" >From the diary of Aaron L. Lanning, kept of his life as a Civil War Soldier, and his early pioneer days in Kansas.) I have often wished that some of my ancestors had left some history of their lives and of conditions existing during their stay on earth.. But there is very little, so far as I know, to indicate the kind of people they were, or what part they have played in the world's great drama. That they existed in all the ages of mankind, I am quite sure. But whether as vessels to some dignitary or as free men; whether as brave men or cowards, there is no record farther back than of their arrival in America. However, I am glad to know that since their arrival here, there is no account of any criminals among them, nor even any in jail on account of misdemeanors. I suppose some of them may have done some foolish things--as I have--or they may have performed some creditable acts of which there may be no record. Therefore when it comes to boasting pride of ancestry, I have little to say. It appears, however, that three Lanning brothers came from Wales to this country quite a while before the Revolutionary War, and that our immediate ancestor Robert Lanning settled at Trenton, New Jersey, when there was but on house there. So I know that we are no late comers. And I assume some of the tribe had some small part, maybe, in the Revolutionary War. The record seems to indicate that both my Grandfather and great Grandfather were named Nathaniel and both spent their lives in New Jersey, and probably, as was the custom of the times, drank some whiskey. I am not recording this to their credit, but that it may be understood as so common a custom that even preachers used to keep whisky in their homes to treat visitors. My Grandfather had some part in the war of 1812. In my early boyhood he had what he called a "cattridge" box and "baynet" in his home, and probably a musket. My Father was the eldest of several children. He never had much opportunity to attend school. I think one term was all he had. He could read a little by spelling out the words. Boys in those days were "bound out" to mechanics, farmers, and others until they became twenty-one years old, at a stipulated price. The price went to the parents. A boy not bound could "buy his time" from his father for a certain agreed sum. But parents in those days collected the earnings of their children until they became of age. Father was hired out from the age of twelve years, and worked for various farmers in the vicinity of the town of Cranbury, New Jersey, until he was twenty-five years old when he married an English girl named Diana Bendy, and bought a twenty-acre farm near Cedar Creek about three miles southeast of Cranbury, New Jersey. Here on November 3, 1841, I was born. My Grandfather and Grandmother and my great Grandmother Lanning lived within less than a mile of our home. It has been told to me that when Great-grandmother was past the age of 100 years, she used to walk over to our home and nurse me, and say she feared that some day I might have to go to be a soldier, and she would cry about it. She died at the age of 103. My parents knew a man for whom they had a great respect, Mr. Aaron Lane, and they conferred his name upon me. Before I was five years old, I was sent to school at what was called the Old Church School House. A girl, named Catherine Clinton, ten or twelve years old looked after my welfare on the road to and from school. This was a subscription school taught by a Mr. Riggs, who according to the custom of schoolmasters of those days, used a switch as an important help in education matters. I distinctly remember the supreme joy I felt when going home from the last day of that school. In the writing exercises in 1850, goose quills were used for pens, the teacher made or mended them for his pupils. Slates and pencils were used in working examples in arithmetic, and for beginners the teacher set the examples and the pupil was told to add them up and bring them to him for inspection. All copies for writing were set by the teacher. My second school was taught by Miss Kitchen who whipped me for going to a creek at noon. It seems she had a rule against going to this nearby creek. But I was a new scholar, and not posted on the rules, it seemed that ignorance excused no one. My next school was in the town of Cranbury, New Jersey and taught by Jirch I. Buckley. He administered punishment with a flat ruler by striking the open palm of the hand. A later teacher was Mr. King, who opened school with prayer and singing Sunday school hymns. He was not given to much use of the switch, but kept us in at recess or noon for our deficiencies. At this school, I learned the multiplication table and tables of weights and measures. One day there came a heavy rain. On our way to school, was a small stream spanned by a crossway made of slab. When my brother George and I came to this stream on our way home, we found the crossway gone. So we decided to wade it. The water was breast deep to me, and up to George's chin so that I had to help him through. We arrived home as wet as rats, and startled Mother at what we had done. I was now about seven years old. Our parents were now talking of leaving New Jersey to find a new home in the "far west." Early in 1853, Father made a sale, of stock and implements, boxed up bedding and extra clothing, etc., and marked the boxes destined for Jerseyville, Illinois. We boarded a train at Cranbury station and reached Philadelphia that afternoon. From thence we took passage on the Pennsylvania Central Railroad. When we reached the mountains near Altoona, the cars were uncoupled from the engine and drawn over the inclined planes by the power of a stationary engine on the mountain top. We passed through the dingy, black city of Pittsburgh onward to Cleveland, Ohio. There we transferred to a lake steamer bound for Toledo. Lake Erie was boisterous that day, so that we could hardly stand up in the cabin, and we were seasick. From Toledo we came by train to Chicago, thence to LaSalle and by steamboat on the Illinois River to Grafton, Illinois, the nearest point to our destination. From there we went to Jerseyville in a wagon. There were five children of us, Aaron, George, Sarah, Sym, and Mary. On the steamboat, we were exposed to the measles. By the time Father had rented a house and the day we moved in, we began to break out with the disorder. We seemed to be pretty tough, and all came through all right. Shortly after this, I was started to school taught by an old man called Mr. Corbett. He was an austere old fellow who regarded a switch an auxiliary to education. He also indulged in sarcastic remarks in regard to some of the boys' writing. He would say "Your copy book looks like a spider had fallen in the ink and crawled over the page", or to another, "Yours looks like hen tracks." My mother fixed up a copybook for me, and I demurred taking it to school, claiming as a reason that I didn't know how to write. But my demurrer was over ruled and in course of time I learned to write so that at least a portion of it could be read. Barnum's show had come to town and I was taken to see it. Shortly afterward I set out to write a letter to Grandmother in New Jersey. I wrote--"Dear Grandmother: I have been to the show and seen all the wild animals and I would like to see you." Mother censored my letter, and suggested that I write it over and not class Grandmother so closely with the animals. Later I was equipped with a slate and pencil which I was to take to Mr. Corbett and have him "set a sum." He set one of four columns each of which would involve carrying, which I knew nothing about. I counted up the first column and set under it the amount, then proceeded in like manner to the next, and so on to the end. I then took it up to him for approval. He said "It isn't right. Take it back and do it over. Put units under units and tens under tens." That was pure Choctaw to me. I pored and studied over that problem until it got rubbed out. I never took the slate back to him, and I am sure he didn't care. His school was for boys only. One day he said, "On next Friday afternoon, I shall expect each of you to have a piece to recite, or a composition to read." Out on the playground, I heard some of the larger boys saying, "I'm not going to learn a piece or write a composition either." We smaller boys could not afford to take a stand like that, so we learned pieces. Friday afternoon came on apace, and after recess Mr. C. began calling out small boys who recited in order. Then he called the name of the largest boy in school, a fellow about eighteen years old. He replied "Hain't got any piece." "Have you a composition?" "No, Sir." The master seized a large switch, advanced to the big fellow's seat and proceeded to pour blows across the fellow's back in "great shape." Returning to his desk, he called the name of another boy of about sixteen. That fellow looked confused for a little while. Then he advanced to the front and recited a foolish nursery rhyme. "That will do for this time," said the master, "but next time have a better one." So ended one mutiny. My next teacher was Mrs. Staats who taught me how to add and carry. (The year) 1854 was a very dry year in our part of Illinois. Corn was so poor that some farmers gave hogs away to any who would take them. The town authorities of Jerseyville erected a pound in which to put any hogs found running at large on the streets. Boys were paid a small sum for driving hogs to the pound. The number of hogs coming to the pound began to arouse suspicion. It was found that some of the boys had been driving hogs in from the country. There was no railroad within twenty-five miles of our town, but a stage line passed through running from Alton to Jacksonville. Sometimes in the spring, the mud was so deep that the stage was abandoned and the driver with four horses hitched to a two-wheeled vehicle carried the mail through. People drove cattle, hogs, and even turkeys in droves to Alton for shipment to St. Louis. When eight years old, I saw the first reaping and mowing machine brought into that part of the country. Up to that time wheat, oats, and rye had been cut with cradles. Men with hand-rakes, and sometimes women, followed, raked the grain into bundles, and bound it by hand. Binding by hand, however continued for many years after. Grass for hay was mown with scythes, spread and raked, often with hand rakes. A few farmers had crude horse rakes, which when filled, were stopped, drawn back and lifted over the windrow. Men and boys prided themselves upon their ability as cradlers, binders, and mowers. In raising corn, the ground was plowed, then marked out both ways with a small mouldboard plow with one horse. The corn was dropped by a boy or girl, three grains in a hill. A man followed, covering the corn with a hoe. The first money I ever earned was for dropping corn for Charley Catt at twenty-five cents a day. I was then about eight years old. Corn was cultivated with one-horse six- or eight-inch plows. I first began to handle such a horse and plow when eleven years of age. In 1854, my Father bought 120 acres of woodland in the south part of Greene County, Illinois for about $500. There were sixteen acres cleared, and fences with worm fence, about seven or eight rails high. There was no house, we built a two room log cabin, each room seventeen feet square. The spaces between the logs were chinked with split blocks, then plastered with lime and sand. We had half-sized windows, rough oak floors and doors. The doors were equipped with wooden hinges and a wooden latch with a leather string passing through a hole in the door. Pulling this string from the outside lifted the latch. If it was desired to lock the door at night, all you had to do was to pull in the string. There was much to do on that farm. More land was to be cleared, rails to be split, logs and brush to be burned, a well to be dug, fences to be built and many smaller chores. Once we had a log-rolling. In our clearing there were large logs we had no use for. As the custom was at that time we invited our neighbors to a log-rolling. All the men and some of their women folks came; the latter to help Mother. The men provided with handspikes rolled large logs together and carried smaller ones on their handspikes and made great piles of them and set them on fire to get them out of the way. At noon the women had a huge dinner ready for hungry men and boys, which vanished amidst much jollity. Log house raisings were conducted along the same plan. Men and boys prided themselves upon their strength on these occasions. Nobody charged anything for his services. My brother George and I early learned to use the axe chopping firewood, sprouting stumps, and chopping small hickory trees into cordwood which was hauled to the steam mills at Jerseyville. The proceeds went toward buying our boots and other items. All men and boys wore high topped boots. Shoes were for women and small children. Our family was large and money very scarce. We children never had any spending money of our own to do as we pleased with. Every cent was needed for family necessities. In the autumn we boys set snares and caught rabbits and "possums." In 1855 and 1856 vast flocks of wild pigeons came in the evening. They would sometimes break the branches. It was an easy matter to get several at a single shot. There were no game laws in those days. Game belonged to anyone who could get it. I was not allowed to use a gun until I became thirteen years old. It was a custom at home to give us boys a job of work to do, with the promise that when it was finished we might go swimming or fishing in Wineses Branch or Macoupin Creek. We used only foolskin bathing suits. No other kind had been thought of. Our Mother cut out and sewed by hand all of our clothes. She washed all our duds in a tub on an old-fashioned washboard. Sewing and washing machines were unknown. Our schools operated not more than six months in the year. Boys who were old enough to help were kept at home until the corn was gathered. Many of them attended not more than four months in a year. Sometimes we had a good teacher and sometimes very poor ones. But it was understood that schools were maintained for study and play was only an incident for noon or recess. I sometimes wonder what the old-time school trustees and parents would have said of a teacher who would have adjourned a school session to go to a ball game. Spelling contests were conducted on Friday afternoon in the home school, and in competition with neighbor schools in winter evenings. Much interest was taken in those by both young and old. We also learned pieces to recite, and sometimes wrote compositions. At one time our school was preparing for what was termed an exhibition at the close of the school term. Mr Mathews, our teacher, was anxious that we should make a good showing. He told us to memorize our pieces and go out in the woods and address the trees; fairly knocking the bark off them, he said. I tried to follow his instructions, went away off in the dense forest and forcibly declaimed upon the "evils of war." A few days later a neighbor woman who lived about a quarter of a mile away, came visiting my mother. She seemed to be worked up with the idea that there was a lunatic loose in the timber, for she said, "The other evening I heard him back in the woods there preaching to beat all." On hearing this, mother was a little excited, and talked about it at supper and wanted to know if I had heard anything. The result was that I had to explain the situation to allay apprehension on the part of the community. No charge was ever made for admittance to any of our school entertainments. On one occasion our school--the Douglas school--was challenged by the teacher of the school at Kane for a spelling contest. Our Mr. Mathews accepted, and on a designated night we went to Kane in force. Spelling began and one by one, the spellers went down, until about fourteen were left on the floor; most of them were his pupils. He had pronounced all the hard words he could find in the spelling book. He threw the book on the desk and picked up Mitchell's Geography. Now, he said, "We will spell round and round." The first word he pronounced was Kankakee. About six of his pupils missed and one of ours spelled it correctly. The next word was Des Plaines. It swept the last of his spellers and our side spelled it. A roaring shout broke forth, "Hurrah for Douglas." The young master was plainly angry and said, "We'll try this Greene Co., IL, ------------------------------------------------------------------------- USGENWEB NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of this consent. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by Bobbie Athon (© 1997 Bobbie Athon)