USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free information on the Internet, data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages cannot be reproduced in any format for profit or other presentation. ********************************************************************** NEW LAWRENCEBURG Page 375 Here was the early residence of the lamented Stephen Ludlow, a gentleman of wealth and honest(fame.) And here, too, early settled and long resided the Rev. Benjamin Fuller, a somewhat eminent local minister. If he was "rather slow of speech," his words were the words of wisdom. He has sought him a new home in the "far west," where he still survives, full of years and full of honors. And here, too, reside my Maine friends, David Woodward and his kind good lady, blessed with an intelligent and interesting family. Their daughter Sarah, now Mrs. Helfer, of whom favorable notice was made in my Ode to the Dearborn County Fair, took the first diploma ever accorded to any one by the "Lawrenceburg Literary Institute;" a distinction as meritorious as honorable. And here, too, I must make honorable mention of my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens. A Mrs. Finch, now living in Hartford, informed me the other day,that, in very early times, she occupied a little log-cabin right in the midst of the town (then a Mrs. Walden); that she had herself often shot turkeys (and I think deer, too) out of her door and windows; the Indians encamped all around her; that they once struck up "a shooting match" close to her door; that she loaded her piece, walked out, asked and obtained permission to fall into the ring, and take part in the pleasant pastime; that, when her turn came, she "drove the center" to a hair, and made the very best shot, which so pleased and amused the old chief, that he patted her upon the shoulder, saying, "Good squaw, good squaw;" and then made her a present of a beautful kind of a shawl. There is a pioneer lady for you worth talking about - a story worth being told and preserved, which, but for me would have been lost for ever. Turkey, and deer, and Indians swarmed right in the very heart of New Lawrencebug! What a change, what a mighty change a single half century has made! "Be astonished, O heaven! and wonder, O earth!" Here was held that ever-memorable Campmeeting, at which time and place the sainted Jacob Blasdell set the "temperance hall' in motion. - (See Reflecitons, etc.) And here, too, is the residence of Moore Holden, world renowned for his patent millstone dress; one of the wonderful improvements of the age. Mr. Holden stands enrolled high upon the scroll of fame, beside John Morrison, as one of the benefactors of the age. Several years ago a little son of his was missing, and nowhere to be found, though diligently sought for with prayers and tears. A notice in a Madison paper, some time after, of a little boy, found dead in the Ohio river, arrested his attention, when lo! his lost one was found cold in death. At play in the creek, it feel in and was drowned, and drifted thus far away.Poor little dear, early taken from the evil to come. And here follow tragedies upon tradedies. A Mr. Chyle, principal clerk in the distillery, was torn all into shreds by being caught in the machinery. A fine scholar,an excellent man, but engaged in a bad business, and died in a ball cause. Another man was scalded to death in th distillery, which was subsequently consumed by fire - a total loss. John Daniels was run over by his own horse and wagon, magled, and taken up a breathless corpse. Abial Baker fell dead in the street with an apoplectic shock. A gentleman and lady in crosing the pond upon the ice, fell through and perished together. Thomas, a son of Joseph, and a brother to Sewell Plummer, a lad of some ten years, fell out of his skiff, and was drowned in the pond, also. The dwelling house of Father Noyes, the one in which I was married, was consumed by fire; but no lives lost, through mercy. A stranger had his thigh so crushed, that it was thought by the physicians in counsel, that amputation; but Dr.Harding said the fractured bones were all in place, and he would assume the responsibility of saving both life and limb, and did it handsomely. I saw the gentleman after the point of danger was safely passed, and a more happy and grateful man I never saw. And, like friend Roland, he thought there was no such man this side of the big water, nor on the globe, as Dr. Harding. And no marvel, surely. At the jollification of the erection of the toll- bridge over Tanner's Creek here, a canon exploded, mangling and killing my neighbor and friend, John Rounds and a Mr. Price, and fearfully wounding a Mr. Sherod. O! how many such accidents occur by the useless "thunder of the muttering cannon" - by unskillful cannoniers. I have yet the crowning tragic scene is yet to be told. A Mr. Nicholas Evans and a Mr. William Wells, a colored man of my intimate acquaintance, had a misunderstanding about something which Wells so explained as to give Evans entire apparent satisfaction. Wells turned away and sat down. Evans, thereupon, slipped noiselessly up behind him, caught him by the hair of his head, drew it back suddenly, and then with a large and sharp pocket-knife, at one fell swoop, cut his throat from ear to ear; and he weltered in his gore a breathless corps.Evans fled, was pursued, subsequently taken, brougth back, tried and sentenced to several years of imprisonment at hard labor in the Penitentiary, where he is now, and in part paying the penalty of his rash, and bloody, and murderous and malicious act. How true it is, that "the ways of transgressors are hard," leaving out of the account the retributions of the future and coming "judgement of the great day." What a picture of real life in here presented in the history of a single little village or town. All factand no ficition,and to which might be added, but I can not longer dwell, and must pass by paying a just tribute to my most worthy friend, John I. French, now an honored, and useful citizen of Ohio County. Barb Boese barbwire@midusa.net