Grundy County IL Archives History - Books .....Chapter 15 1882 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/il/ilfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Deb Haines ddhaines@gmail.com May 4, 2006, 2:54 am Book Title: History Of Grundy County IL 1882 CHAPTER XV.* WAUPONSEE TOWNSHIP—ITS MATERIAL RESOURCES—EARLY SETTLERS—PIONEER LIFE ON THE PRAIRIE—THE CHURCH AND SCHOOL. NEAR the center of Grundy County, abutting on the south bank of the Illinois River, lies Wauponsee Township, or in the technical language of the congressional survey, township 33 north, range 7, east. The name immortalizes that prosaic warrior, better characterized by the closing tragedy on the Kankakee River than the sentiment of the "leather stocking" tales, who once made his home near the western line of the township. This name was early applied to what is now Grundy County, but these extended territorial limits have been curtailed from time to time, until now it contains but little larger area than that assigned to a regular congressional township, six miles square. The surface, considerably broken in the northwestern corner, is generally a rolling prairie, sloping gradually toward the northwest. The natural drainage is fair, the Mazon River, flowing along the eastern border and taking a short turn westward near the northeastern corner and emptying into the Illinois near the middle part of the town; and the Waupecan Creek, entering west of the middle of the southern line of the township, passing in a northwesterly direction to the northwest corner into the Illinois, affording an outlet for the surplus rainfall. The outline of the highlands, which reach almost to the altitude of bluffs in the northwest corner, gradually recedes from the course of the Illinois as it proceeds eastward, leaving a space of nearly two miles occupied by the first and second bottoms. These are subject to annual overflows which are not an unmixed evil. Skiffs owned and kept by farmers at their residences a mile or two away are suggestive of the inconven- *By L. W. Claypool. iences of a flood, but the luxuriant crops which are annually produced on these lands give sure token of the blessing which comes in this guise. Occasionally a late flood or one accompanied with floating ice does considerable damage, but on the whole these inundations are not unwelcome to the farmers. Along the bottoms the soil is a rich and most alluvial deposit, fertile and of inexhaustible richness. The first and second rises or "benches" are marked by a preponderance of sand, forming a productive loamy soil especially adapted to gardening and certain fruits. The high, plateau beyond is more of a clay soil admirably calculated for good results in corn and grass cultivation. Here the timber is principally oak, while in the lower portions of the township black and white walnut, blue ash, hackberry and some maples are found. The original supply of timber was much less than now appears, and differently distributed. Along the margin of the streams, in the bottom and northern sides of ravines there was a considerable growth of trees, which by judicious handling, and the absence of prairie fires has spread, so that the lack of timber is now observable only to the practiced eye. The native prairie grass is yet to be seen here and there, and is prized for hay equal to the finest timothy. The attention of farmers in this township is chiefly devoted to the cultivation of small fruits and vegetables upon the sand ridges, large numbers of melons being shipped from this point, annually. Elsewhere the cultivation of corn, with stock raising, and some dairying, absorbs the farmer's efforts, the product finding a ready and profitable market at Chicago. The first settlement of the county was made in this township, in 1828, by Wm. Marquis. He came across the country in a wagon from the vicinity of the Wabash. He was of French extraction, of a roving disposition, and being something of a trader, was probably attracted hither by the advertisement of the canal lands and the near location of the Indians. Whatever the reason, he came here and halted his wagon on the south fraction of section 2, 33, 7. Here he erected a building near the banks of the river, of such timber as he could handle, aided only by his wife, children and team. He was more trader than farmer, and made very slight improvements. He cultivated the acquaintance of the Indians that lived and hunted through the contiguous country, and through them some stories of Marquis have come down to a later day. It is said, in dealing on one occasion with Wauponsee for some wild geese feathers, Marquis insisted on paying him in pumpkins, at the rate of pound for pound. This was too much for even the indolent credulity of an Indian, and the enraged old chief drove him into his cabin, smashing the pumpkins after him. Marquis threatened to report his actions to the whites—with whom the chief was not in good repute—but the Indian, undaunted, replied, "Whites like Indian more than he like Marquis; he talk nice and smooth, but he d—d rascal." This is said to be not an unfair estimate of his dealings with the Indians, by whom he was not greatly liked. The whites who came to the township subsequently, found in him a good neighbor, but a cunning and dangerous opponent. Here he lived for several years completely isolated, trusting for subsistence upon his own resources alone. The story of the death of his son, about twelve years old, in the winter of 1834-5, and the funeral, gives some idea of the early privations. The father, after placing the body of his child on a scaffold out of doors where it would be safe from the attack of marauding animals, left his family sick in the cabin and walked several miles to get help from the neighbors for the burial. Three of them responded, Jacob and Perry Claypool and William Robb. For a burial case they cut off an old canoe, closing the open end with a piece of board, dressed the body in a clean shirt, and placing it in the extemporized coffin, covered it with a board. To remove it to the place of burial, in the absence of any sort of vehicle, a yoke of oxen was attached to the affair, and the pioneer cortege proceeded in this unceremonious manner through the snow to a ridge at some distance, where the grave had been prepared. The young team, not impressed with the solemnity of the occasion, made a nearly successful attempt to run away, and though the burial was accomplished without any unseemly accident, there was painfully lacking that careful tenderness which so mitigates the pain of the funeral ceremony. This was the first white man's funeral in Grundy County, and is typical of the privations of frontier life—an experience rigorous enough with health and good fortune to support it, but sad beyond expression when sickness and death are added to its miseries. In 1835 Marquis sold out to A. Holderman and removed to the mouth of the Au Sable, where he bought some land and lived a number of years. He subsequently lost the principal part of his property, and left for Texas in 1850. In 1833 Col. Sayers came from the lower settlements to Wauponsee, and made a claim on the east half of the northeast quarter of section 14, building his cabin near the present residence of J. H. Pattison. He never came here to live or to make further improvements, but sold the claim to W. A. Holloway, who moved into the cabin in March of the following year. The latter was not a long resident of this township, selling his place next year and buying land in what is now Felix township, where he was the first settler. Mr. S. Crook, who succeeded Holloway in the Sayers cabin in 1835, was a New York merchant. The notoriety which the "canal lands" got through the State agents was such as to create the belief in many minds that there were fine opportunities here for successful speculation in lands, and attracted many who found themselves mistaken, and soon moved elsewhere. Among this number, perhaps, should be placed Mr. Crook. He brought with him several trunks filled with goods, with which to trade with the natives. He never formally opened a store here, but found ready access to his goods when an occasion offered opportunity for trade. He left Wauponsee in the following year, and established a store at Ottawa, where he continued in business for a long time. The next family to join its fortunes with the little colony in this township was that of Jacob Claypool. He was a Virginian by birth, and moved with his father to Ohio, settling near Chillicothe, in 1799. In the war of 1812 he served in a rifle company which was a part of the first regiment, and in a diary, now in the possession of his son, L. W. Claypool, has left an interesting history of the movements and experiences of that part of the army to which he was attached. He was in the campaign about Detroit, was captured with Gen. Hull and paroled. His observation of the Lake region made a deep impression upon his mind; and when the canal lands were advertised he became possessed with a desire to make his home near the lake on these lands. Mr. Claypool had something of the true spirit of the pioneer, and preferred the isolation and freedom of the frontier to the crowded settlements. On arriving at his majority his first move was to go, with others, to the east fork of the Miami River, in Brown County, Ohio, to establish a new settlement. He was therefore; in 1833, anxious to leave his farm and go further west, and determined, whether he sold his place or not, to go to the lake region; and started this year for the northern part of the State of Ohio. He was forced to return, however, after getting to Dayton, by the sickness of his horse. In the following year, having an opportunity to sell his Ohio farm, he started for the canal lands in Illinois, taking his son, L. W. Claypool, with him, on a prospecting tour. His design was to follow the Illinois River by boat to Peru, and thence to walk to Chicago, the aim of his journey. At Cincinnati they took a boat "bound for the Illinois River," on which they made the journey to Beardstown, where the boat ended its trip. Disappointed, but undaunted, the two started out on foot, and made their way finally to the residence of James Galloway, near Marseilles. Here Mr. Claypool rested for the night, and was advised in the morning to go to Holloway's cabin. Here, tired with his journey and pleased with the prospect, he selected the southwest quarter of section 20 as his future home, and with his son then struck out for home, following the course of the river, determined to take the first boat they could get. They were fortunate enough to find one at Pekin, on which they made the trip to Cincinnati. Mr. Claypool set about preparing for the removal, and in making up a party to accompany him. In the fall of this year (1834) Mr. Claypool returned with his goods on wagons, accompanied by his family, James Robb and his family, Wm. Brown and family, John Snowhill and Wm. Eubanks. The little company came over the country, and getting into the Chicago trail, Mr. Claypool was then anxious to go to Chicago, notwithstanding he had selected another place. At the point where the road branched off toward Wauponsee the caravan was brought to a halt, and the question of going to the lake was put to a vote, and Mr. Claypool being in the minority, came with the rest to his chosen spot. James Robb located on the southeast quarter, section 18, but subsequently sold out, moved out of the township, and later returned to his homestead on section 28. William Brown erected his cabin on the northwest quarter, section 30, 33, 8, but in 1842 he sold this place, moved to section 13, 33, 7, where he died. In 1835, Richard Griggs settled on the southeast quarter, section 33, built his cabin and fenced a few acres, but soon sold out and left for parts unknown. In the same year the oldest son of Jacob Claypool, Perry A. Claypool, put up a cabin on the east half of northeast quarter, section 28. He had returned the previous year to Ohio to consummate his marriage to Miss Mary Hollsted, and then brought his bride to Wauponsee to begin life upon the Illinois prairie. The year following, Geo. W. Armstrong, an early settler of La Salle County, and of a very prominent family there, came to Wauponsee, and erected a cabin on the southeast quarter of section 18, and began immediately afterward to erect a saw-mill on the Waupecan Creek, finishing it the next year. He added to this business a few pieces of dry goods and a stock of groceries, which constituted the first regularly opened store in the township, and probably the first in the county. There was but little business in so sparse a settlement, and the venture probably did not yield great returns. The scarcity of timber operated unfavorably to the interests of the mill, though it undoubtedly proved a great convenience to the settlers, who otherwise were forced to split and hew out puncheons as a substitute for boards. The mill changed hands several times, and finally so completely disappeared as to leave no trace by which its actual site can be identified. Mr. Armstrong did not stay long in Wauponsee, returning to his former home in the adjoining county, in a year or two. Ezekiel Warren, who came to La Salle County in 1832, and where he took part in the Black Hawk War, moved into Armstrong's cabin in 1839. Here he lived two or three years, and then located on the east half of the southeast quarter, section 17, 33, 7. James Thompson and James Berry came into the township about 1841. Both were Irishmen, brought here by interests of the canal, and have proven a valuable acquisition to the growth of the township. The pioneers who thus formed the little colony that early gathered in this township were familiar with the isolation, and inured to the hardships and privations of frontier life! But with all this, the open prairie presented difficulties to which they had hitherto been strangers. From this point of view, when the adaptability of the prairies has been so abundantly proven, it seems unfortunate that the early experiences of these pioneers led them to cling to the timbered portions of the land, where foul water and miasma aggravated the inevitable discomforts of frontier life. The cabin built, many turned their attention at once to building tight, expensive fences. The Claypools enclosed eighty acres with a stout Virginia fence, "staked and ridered," and others fenced similar fields, but they soon learned that this was an unnecessary expense here. Most of the settlers brought in horses and cows, but the former pretty generally gave way to oxen for working purposes, and hogs were soon introduced from the older settlements on the lower part of the river, as the most available way to supply the table. These preliminaries accomplished, the most urgent necessity was to secure a crop. The plows were crude affairs, strong and serviceable, but requiring great team power and considerable mechanical skill in the plowman. The sod was found tough, not easily "tamed," and very uncertain in producing a first crop. So tenacious was it, that the furrow turned out one unbroken strip of sod, and occasionally, when not especially careful, the plowman had the disappointment of seeing yards of this leathery soil turn back to its natural position, necessitating the tedious operation of turning it all back by hand. The result of all this labor was generally well repaid the first year, if the sod became thoroughly rotted, though it produced but a small crop. Often times the second and third plowing showed the soil still stubborn and unkind. Few, even among farmers, know much of the labor involved in "breaking prairie," unless they have experienced its obstacles and overcome them. Corn was the only crop planted at first, and this furnished food for man and beast, and a few years later it was a mark of unusual prosperity to be able to furnish wheat bread to especial guests. When these difficulties had been surmounted; when rude barns and stacks of grain began to mark the home of the thriving frontier farmer, his very prosperity made him the readier victim of the desolation that stalked abroad in the prairie fire. Against this evil there was at that time no sure defense, but eternal vigilance. Mr. Baldwin, who has described this so well in his history of La Salle County, says: "From the time the grass would burn, which was soon after the first frost, usually about the first of October, till the surrounding prairie was all burnt over, or if not all burnt, till the green grass in the spring had grown sufficiently to prevent the rapid progress of the fire, the early settlers were continually on the watch, and as they usually expressed the idea, 'slept with one eye open.' When the ground was covered with snow, or during rainy weather, the apprehension was quieted, and both eyes could be safely closed, A statute law forbade setting the prairie on fire, and one doing so was subject to a penalty, and liable in an action of trespass, for the damage accruing; but convictions were seldom effected, as proof was difficult to obtain, though there were frequent fires. These, started on the leeward side of an improvement, while very dangerous to property to the leeward, were not so to the windward, as fire progressing against the wind is easily extinguished. The apprehension, therefore, of a frontier farmer may be readily imagined. Alone, in a strange land, he has made a comfortable home for his family; has raised and stored his corn, wheat, oats, and fodder for his stock, and sees about these, stretching away for miles in every direction, a vast sea of standing grass, dry as tinder, waving in threatening movement as the fierce prairie wind howls a dismal requiem, as over fair hopes doomed to destruction. "Various means were resorted to for protection. A common one was to plow several furrows around a strip, several rods wide, outside the improvements, and then burn out the strip; or to wait until the prairie was on fire and then set fire outside of this furrowing, reserving the inner strip for a late burn, i. e., until the following summer, and in July burn both old grass and new. The grass would start immediately, and the cattle would feed it close in preference to the older grass, so that the fire would not pass over it the following autumn. This process repeated would soon, or in a few years, run out the prairie grass, and in time would be replaced by blue grass, which will never burn to any extent. But all this took time and labor, and the crowd of business on the hands of a new settler, of which a novice has no conception, would prevent him doing what would now seem a small matter; and all such effort was often futile. A prairie fire driven by a high wind would often leap such barriers and seem to put human effort at defiance. "A prairie fire when first started goes straight forward with a velocity proportioned to the force of the wind, widening as it goes, but the center keeping ahead; it spreads sideways, but burning laterally, it makes but comparatively slow progress, and if the wind is moderate and steady, this spreading fire is not difficult to manage; but if the wind veers a point or two, first one way and then the other, it sends this side fire beyond control. The head fire in dry grass and a head wind is a fearful thing, and pretty sure to have its own way unless there is some defensible point from which to meet it. A contest with such a fire requires such skill and tact as can be learned only by experience, and a neighborhood of settlers called out by such an exigency at once put themselves under the direction of the oldest and most experienced of their number, and go to work with the alacrity and energy of men defending their homes and property from destruction. "The usual way of meeting an advancing fire was to begin the defense where the head of the fire would strike, which is calculated by the smoke and ashes brought by the wind long in advance of the fire. A road, cattle path or furrow is of great value at such a place; if there is none such, a strip of the grass is wetted down if water can be procured, which is, however, a rather scarce article at the time of the annual fires. On the side nearest to the coming fire, of such road or path, the grass is set on fire, which burns slowly against the wind until it meets the coming conflagration, which stops of course for want of fuel, provided there has been sufficient time to burn a strip that will not be leaped by the head fire as it comes in. This is called back-firing; but in this method, great care must be exercised to prevent the fire getting over the furrow path, or whatever is used as a base of operations. If it gets over and once under way, there is no remedy but to fall back to a more defensible position. The head of the fire successfully checked, the forces divide, part going to the right and part to the left, and the back-firing continued to meet the side fires as they come up. This must be continued until the fire is checked along the entire front of the premises endangered, and the sides secured. "Various implements were used to put out a side or back fire, or even the head of a fire in a moderate wind. A fence board, four to six feet long, with one end shaved down for a handle, was very effective when struck flat upon the narrow strip of fire. A bundle of hazel brush, a spade or shovel were often used with effect. The women frequently lent their aid and dexterously wielded the mop, which, when thoroughly wet, proved a very efficient weapon, especially in extinguishing a fire in the fence. When the fire overcame all opposition, and seemed bound to sweep over the settlement, a fear of personal loss would paralyze, for the moment, every faculty, and as soon as that danger seemed imminent, united effort ceased, and each one hastened to defend his own as best he could. It is due to historical truth to say that the actual losses were much less than might have been expected, though frequently quite severe. The physical efforts made in extinguishing a dangerous fire, and in protecting one's home from this devouring element were of the most trying nature, resulting fatally in more than one instance. "The premises about the residences and yards being trampled down by the family and domestic animals, after a year or two became tolerably safe from fire, but the fences, corn and stubble fields were frequently burned over. When the prairie was all fenced and under cultivation, so that prairie fires were a thing of the past, the denizens of the prairie were happily released from the constant fear and apprehension which for years had rested like a nightmare on their quiet and happiness, disturbing their peace by night, and causing anxiety by day. The early settlers will ever have a vivid recollection of the grand illuminations nightly exhibited in dry weather, from early fall to late spring, by numberless prairie fires. The whole horizon would be lighted up around its entire circuit. A heavy fire six or seven miles away, would afford sufficient light on a dark night to enable one to read fine print. When a fire had passed through the prairie, leaving the long lines of side fires like two armies facing each other, at night the sight was grand; and if one's premises were securely protected and he could enjoy the fine exhibition without apprehension, it was an awe-inspiring sight well worth going far to see." The isolation of the Wauponsee community, while not that of many a frontier colony, was such as to command the greatest respect for the patient endurance of the pioneers of this county. The nearest post-office was at Ottawa, while the only "grist-mill" was that of a Mr. Green at Dayton. Here the farmers took a wagon load of corn or a year's supply of wheat and often waited a week for their turn, camping out in the vicinity in the meanwhile. This lack of milling facilities led to the adoption of many substitutes, such as grating the corn on a perforated tin or iron, parching and grinding in a coffee mill, or more commonly pulverizing it with a huge wooden mortar and pestle. Sometimes a conveniently placed stump furnished the material for the mortar, otherwise a section of log was hollowed out to form a bowl-like receptacle in which the corn was placed and plied with a heavy wooden pestle. The finest of the product was used for the "corn pone" or "slapjack," while the coarser part furnished forth the characteristic "hominy." Game consisted principally of wild hogs and wolves. There were some deer to be found in the timber, and smaller game such as squirrels, woodchucks and prairie chickens on the prairie, but the first named animals furnished the principal sport. Wild hogs were such as had wandered off from the older settlements and gone wild in the course of nature. They were of a long-legged, gaunt species, and kept the timber pretty closely. They were no particular damage or annoyance to the early settlers, but furnished capital hunting sport, though of not very long duration. The wolves were of the coyote species and haunted the open prairies. These were of more annoyance to the settlements, and a bounty was early offered by the county for their scalps, and is still paid when claimed by hunters. They were a small undersized breed, and would make the night dismal with their howling, though they never attacked full-sized animals or persons. There were no sheep in the township, but young calves often fell an easy victim to these insatiable beasts, and young pigs when alone or accompanied only by the mother sow were often captured. They were hunted with dogs, and when run down would fall on their backs and fight very much like a cat. On frozen ground and when filled by a recent meal they were run down without much difficulty on horseback, as they seemed to avoid the timber and would risk capture rather than go into it. An instance is related where a wolf was thus run down and suddenly seized by the hinder leg as he lay on the ground ready to fight, was whirled about the hunter's head and killed by bringing him forcibly on the ground. Their nature of late years, however, seems to have undergone a decided change. They now attain a much larger size and inhabit the timber almost exclusively. Occasionally one is still shot and exhibited as quite a curiosity. Prairie chickens are still found, though in decreasing numbers, and serve to attract sportsmen from less favored localities. Wauponsee was in the line of early travel—one of the principal traveled routes passing through its territory—and the old hotel on the Mazon was for some time a point of considerable importance. But the regulation of the roads, the building of railroads and the location of the county seat so near at hand, have all conspired to discourage the growth of any village within its borders. Its only centers of attraction are the school-houses and a church building, situated rather southeast of the center of the township. There was occasional preaching in the cabins by passing ministers as early as '34 or '35, but the first regular services were held in Wauponsee Grove, just over the township line, in 1837 or '8, by a Rev. Mr. Rogers, of the South Ottawa circuit. In 1839, Harvey Hadley, of the same circuit, officiated, followed by Jno. F. Devore, who was the means of a great revival in 1842 or '3. The Mormons were also early in the field, and had their preachers out quite regularly until 1844. Elder Pratt is especially remembered as one of these Evangelists of the Latter Day Saints. They made several converts to their peculiar doctrines, some of whom left for Nauvoo, but the majority lost their faith and "slid back." The first church organization in the township, however, was the Wauponsee Methodist Episcopal Church. J. W. and J. P. Riding, though of Congregational proclivities, were prominent in its early organization, but subsequently withdrew. For nearly ten years it held its meetings in the cabins around until about 1872, when, under the lead of Mr. Morgan Button, an effort was put forth for a regular place of worship. The result of these efforts is the neat wooden edifice in which the church now worships. It was dedicated in August, 1873, and cost some $3,000. Schools were not established until after the formation of the county. The community was small, and there were but few scholars to attend if such had been started. But in 1843 a school was opened in a log cabin erected in the center of section 20, and was kept by Amanda Pickering. This was not a public sehool, but supported by the patrons, who "swapped" pork, corn, etc., with a little money, for the less materialistic benefit received by their children. This was one of the earliest schools in the county, and the cabin is still pointed out. The second school-house, which was known as the "Satterly School House," was constructed of logs on the east line of section 15, about 1848, where its site is now marked by a modern structure, in which the children of to-day go to school. This old school-house was for years used as town hall for the regular town meetings and occasional religious services. But since then how marked the change! Neat school-houses are found in every quarter of the township, where advanced methods and improved means unite to fit the rich and poor alike for the duties and dangers of life. NOTE.—The Cicada, or Seventeen-year Locust, has been a visitant of this country, as elsewhere, and since first noticed has been regular in its coming. It was first noticed in 1837, and in June of that year began to attract very general attention. They came out of the ground about the last of May, and by the middle of June seemed to have taken possession of the country. A sudden jar on a small bush would put to flight as many as could be put into an ordinary pail, and during the middle part of the day their noise would drown the tones of a cow-bell a hundred yards away. They took every green thing in their way, and it was estimated that fully one-third of the leaf-bearing twigs on the oak timber on the eastern banks of the Mazon was destroyed by their "prodding" to deposit eggs. In 1854 the locusts began to appear about the 28th of May. They came out of the ground a large bug, which fastened itself to a twig for an hour or two, when its encasing shell parting along the central line of the back, disclosed the ravaging locust. In a few days the country began to resound with their noise, but a heavy rain early in June seemed to destroy large numbers. By the middle of June they began to deposit their eggs, and becoming fat and enervated by their gorging, fell an easy prey to the birds, which destroyed large numbers. They went away as rapidly as they came, and by July 1st nothing but dried fragments of the insect could be discovered. In 1871 farmers were expecting the return of the locust invasion, and kept a keen watch for the first appearance of the scourge. On the 20th of May the bug was plowed up, and by the 25th they had become quite numerous above ground. On June 7 these insects killed sixty apple trees for L. W. Claypool, though they had been planted three years. By July 2nd there could be heard now and then one in the woods, but all the rest had gone. In the later visits the locusts were much less numerous than in 1837. Additional Comments: HISTORY OF GRUNDY COUNTY ILLINOIS; Containing a History from the earliest settlement to the present time, embracing its topographical, geological, physical and climatic features; its agricultural, railroad interests, etc.; giving an account of its aboriginal inhabitants, early settlement by the whites, pioneer incidents, its growth, its improvements, organization of the County, the judicial history, the business and industries, churches, schools, etc.; Biographical Sketches; Portraits of some of the Early Settlers, Prominent Men, etc.; ILLUSTRATED. CHICAGO: O. L. BASKIN & CO., HISTORICAL PUBLISHERS, Lakeside Building. 1882. File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/il/grundy/history/1882/historyo/chapter163nms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.net/ilfiles/ File size: 32.6 Kb