Fountain County IN Archives History - Books .....Early Settlement 1881
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Book Title: History Of Fountain County

EARLY SETTLEMENT.

   The limits to which the writer is confined, as well as the press of other
affairs, are such as to make it possible only to give a brief outline of the
settlement and growth of Fountain county. It has for some years been the design
of the author of this sketch to gather up the threads of personal history of the
pioneer men and women of this county and weave them into a memorial that would
do justice to their sterling worth, and perpetuate the story of their toils,
their perils and their virtues. This design cannot be carried out now, if ever
it can be done. The hardships endured by the men and women who made the first
openings in the forest, and the courage and fortitude displayed in meeting them,
deserve to be permanently recorded.

   Are these men and women forgotten? Of all the busy throng which people
Fountain county to day, how many can tell anything of the first settlers? How
many can speak the names of half-a-dozen of them? A truthful answer would be "
but very few, and they the old men and women who personally knew them." Is it
right that we should so soon forget those who preceded us and made the paths
straight and the ways smooth? If we forget them even while we enjoy the fruits
of their labors, shall we not ourselves be as soon forgotten? If the magic of a
word would bring them back before us just as they were the day they selected the
spot for their cabin in the forest, who is it that would not like to see them,
and talk to them, and hear from their own lips the story of their lives? Who
would not like to see the man who first penetrated the wilds of Fountain county
to make his home in the midst of her forests, and his wife who came with him,
bringing her little ones where tidings of kindred would seldom or never come,
and where hope of seeing them could scarcely exist? How interesting it would be
to hear her tell of her hopes and her fears, and how she bore the trials and
hardships of her situation, and what her feelings were when she fully realized
that she was alone with her husband and children, with a dense forest, extending
miles on every hand, shutting her out from kindred and friends, and no outlook
save toward the blue sky overhead?

   "When this man and woman first came to their home in this region "there was
not a hearth-stone planted; no fenced fields; no roads; not a sign of
civilization though one journeyed from morn to dewy eve. If the way led over the
prairie, on the right hand and the left a waste, in the summer rich with
flowers, in the winter fields of snow swept by merciless winds; if the trail
were through the woods, the thicket was about like a wall, and the wanderer, his
soul thrilling with a sense of awe, caught the blue sky in briefest patches
through the trees above him—all was shade and solitude as became the inheritance
of savages." When the sun went down, and the shadows of evening began to fade in
the deeper gloom of night, what a sense of loneliness and helplessness must have
come to this family, who knew there was not a friendly human being within thirty
miles of them, and whose ears were startled with the growl of the wolf and the
humanlike cry of the panther. No ordinary courage and nerve was theirs who thus,
with a quiet determination and heroism worthy of remembrance, set themselves to
the work of conquering nature and winning a living and an inheritance for their
children in the midst of a primeval forest.

   If we could begin with the earliest settlement of the county and trace its
history until the present time, marking, as we progressed, the influence of
individual lives; if we could collect and present all the reminiscences of the
life of the first settlers, which yet remain in the memory of old people, we
should have a story of thrilling interest.

   It is unfortunate that this has not been done; and it will be still more
unfortunate if it is not done before the "few who are left to tell" the story
shall pass away.

   In the last ten years many of the first settlers of the county have gone out
from among us to return no more, and with them have gone many things of intense
interest connected with the history of this county, never to be recovered. These
early pioneer fathers and mothers are with us yet, but we do not recognize their
presence. We say they are dead. But to die is not the end. They continue to live
in the forces and influences which in life were set in motion by them. No human
being was ever born into the world who does not thus continue to live. The
identity of individual force and influence is lost in the changes and
complications of the future, but the influence and force of each individual life
will continue to the end of time, and only the hand of Omnipotence can unravel
the web and point out the work of each individual of the myriads who helped to
weave it.

   The present prosperity of the people of this county, their fertile and well
improved farms, their comfortable homes, their religious and educational
advantages, and all they enjoy which serves to make life happy and existence
desirable, are largely due to the labors and the courage of the men and women
who sought homes in the wilderness that they might increase the heritage and
better the condition of their children. This was the strong motive which turned
the face of the man and woman to the setting sun in most instances. But there
were others who came impelled by that insatiable desire to penetrate the unknown
which prompts man to attempt even the rending of the veil of the future. The
desire to look into the beyond,—to uplift the horizon and see what is on the
other side,— this is the most powerful incentive to discovery existing in man's
nature. It was this that turned the prow of the Santa Maria toward the Unknown,
and held her to her course through trackless seas for weeks, until, first a
slight breeze from the west, then a few small birds singing morning songs, and
weeds and pieces of wood floating in the water, began to revive hope and
strengthen expectation, until the cry of "Land! Land!" announced the fact that a
new world had been discovered, and a new name added to the roll of those who
deserve to be remembered throughout all time. Ah! that moment was worth an
ordinary lifetime.

   It is this in man's nature that has laid bare the secrets of earth and sea;
that has explored the heavens, and mapped them out; that has penetrated the
bowels of the earth and the depths of the sea; that has attempted converse with
the spirits of the dead; and that penetrated the forest and mapped out the way
to civilization in the land of the savage.

   All honor to these brave, unselfish and devoted men and women! Would that
their names and personal histories could be collected and written here! If much
of personal history and reminiscence is omitted from these pages, it is not from
desire, but of necessity. Many things of importance must be omitted from want of
space, and many from want of accurate information. But little space can be given
to the eariy history of the county; and for the material of what is given the
author is, in great part, indebted to manuscripts prepared by Hon. Joseph
Ristine and John M. McBroom, Esq. The earliest settlement in the county was
probably made in 1823. The first entry of real estate was made in 1820 by Edmond
Wade, and was the W. 1/2, N.E. 1/4, Sec. 28, T. 21, R. 6. In 1821, Eber Jeune
entered land in T. 18, R. 9. In 1822, entries were made by David Strain, Leonard
Loyd, James Beggs, Daniel Tarney, Benjamin Hodges, John Shewy, William White,
Robert Hetfield, John Bartlett, Jonathan Birch, Abner Crane, Wm. Cochran, James
Button, William W. Thomas, James Thomas, Elijah Funk, Moses Jewett, Abner Rush,
John Simpson, Jeremiah Hartman, James Graham, Martin Harrold, Thomas Patton,
William Cloud, Alexander Logan, John Rusing, John Nugent, George Johnson, Enoch
D. Woodbridge, Jesse Osborn, Andrew Lopp, Daniel Richardson, Isaac Colman, Isaac
Shelby, Rezin Shelby, and Jonathan Crane, and Isaac Romine as "Trustees for the
church of God." There is a romantic history connected with more than one of
these names, that it would be a pleasure to give, did time, space and the
materials at hand permit. It is difficult now to say who was the first white
inhabitant of the county. Certain it is that Jonathan Birch and John Colvert
were settled upon the north fork of Cool creek, in what is now Van Buren
township, in the spring of 1823, and that farther down the creek William Cochran
and Thomas Patten had made "clearings" and raised a "crop" during the same season.

   On what is now known as Graham's creek, in Wabash township, there were the
Forbes and Graham families, who had come into the county in the spring of 1823.
Messrs. Forbes and Graham each raised a "crop" in the summer of 1823. Mr. Forbes
was probably the first settler in the county. On what are yet known as Osborn's
and Lopp's prairies there were settlements made during this year. The families
of Col. Osborn and Mr. Lopp came into the county in the spring or summer of
1823, and William Cade came in the same year. The gentlemen named are the first
who erected cabins and raised crops in the county. In the fall of 1823 John
McBroom, Edward McBroom, John Cain and John Walker came to the county, bringing
with them on horseback the outfit that must serve them in the preparation of
homes for their families. This consisted chiefly of an axe, with which to fell
and hew timber for their cabins, and to clear the land for the next year's crop,
and a gun, upon the use of which much of their sustenance depended. The
experience of these men was in great part that of every other of the pioneer
settlers, and it will not be without interest to quote from a manuscript account
the manner in which they met and overcame what, to most men of this age, would
appear insurmountable difficulties:

   "They came by the way of Strawtown, on White river; thence by Thorntown, on
Sugar creek; these being Indian towns, with an Indian trace from one to the
other. From Thorntown they followed the Indian trace down Sugar creek to
Crawfordsville, which was laid off in the spring of 1823. From Crawfordsville
they followed the Indian trace to the head-waters of Coal creek, from whence,
following the stream, they found the land of promise,—a land which, if it flowed
not with milk and honey, flowed with beautiful streams of pure water. Neither
was it destitute of honey, and game of all kinds abounded, while the creeks were
filled with the finest of fish. Before choosing their locations they took a
pretty wide survey of the territory which now is embraced within the limits of
Fountain county. In their wanderings they came across the Birch and Colvert
families, who were settled on the north fork of Coal creek, while farther down
at the forks of the creek they found the Cochran and Patten families.' After
some time spent in looking at the country, and being warned by the falling leaf
and moaning winds that winter was approaching, they made their selections of
lands and began the erection of their first rude cabins. And the reader can
judge of their dimensions when he is told that four men, separated by an
unbroken wilderness, extending for many miles in all directions, from their
fellows, cut and carried the logs for these cabins, and raised them to their
places. They were rude and small, yet they proved sufficient as a shelter for
their little families until better could be provided."

   With these, and the many others who came in the spring of 1824, the contest
for existence was a hard one. " There were houses to build, roads to blaze,
forests to clear, rails to make, fences to build," and every effort to make to
win bread from the wilderness, " and to keep the wolf from the door during the
coming winter. With the utmost exertion their crops must be light, as the forest
was thick and green, and it was impossible to get rid of the shade of
overhanging trees during the first year." All they had was a little clearing in
the midst of a dense forest, with a cabin on one side and a patch of blue sky
above. " The soil was rich and productive, however, and, blessed with rain and
sunshine, they raised some corn and beans and potatoes, on which, with the game
that was plenty within easy reach, they lived through the winter without
suffering or destitution."

   At this time there was not a mill in the county, and the corn was taken
across a trackless forest to a mill situated somewhere in the southwestern
portion of what is now Parke county. This mill was probably at the mouth of
Raccoon creek.

   In the fall of 1824 a mill for grinding corn—"a corn cracker"— was built on
Coal creek, at the point where the town of Hillsboro is now located. This was
built by two men named Kester and McLaughlin. It is said to have been the first
mill put in operation in the county. But this is not quite certain. The honor
lies between this and Corse's mill, lower down on Coal creek. The mill was a
rude affair: a little shed supported by round posts; a brush dam across the
stream; a wheel attached to an upright shaft, and stones for grinding rudely
shaped out of boulders. One whose recollection goes back to that day writes: "A
day of rejoicing was this among the settlers, when they had not only corn of
their own but a mill to grind it. They felt that civilization had made a long
stride in the direction of their homes." The "corn cracker," grinding its four
or five bushels of corn a day, was an assurance of bread. It opened up a vista
to its visitors and patrons adown which they saw farms opened, wheat fields
ripening, comfortable homes springing up, a dense population happy in the
enjoyment of all that makes life worth living, with churches and schoolhouses in
every neighborhood. Many of them lived to see all these things, and a few are
yet among us who braved the dangers of the wilderness to make a home for their
children, and who have seen all the wonderful changes which half a century has
wrought in this spot of earth which we call Fountain county.

   It is probable that settlements were made in other parts of the county in the
year 1823, but no reliable information about them has been obtained by the
author, although earnest inquiry has been made concerning them. The years 1824,
1825 and 1826 brought with them a great many families whom it would be pleasant
to mention particularly, if the limits to which this sketch is prescribed would
permit. Particular mention of those who came after the year 1823 is left to the
histories of the several townships, with the hope that all deserving of mention
will appear there. The name of Absolem Mendenhall ought to appear among those
who found a home in the county in 1823; he was a man of great influence and
usefulness in the "settlement." He was the first justice of the peace in the
territory which is now Fountain county; he wrote all the deeds; settled all the
disputes, married all the people, cried all the sales, and in short did all the
public business of the neighborhood for years. He was possessed of strong common
sense, sterling integrity, an intuitive sense of justice, and great good humor.
His last public service was in representing his county in the state senate. It
was in his garden that the writer first saw a tomato. This fruit was then called
"Jerusalem Apples," and was believed to be deadly poison.

   Another leader among his fellow men at a very early period in the history of
the county was Joseph Glasscock, than whom no one man did more, perhaps, to
develop the resources of the country, and to cultivate a law-abiding and
peaceable spirit in its people.

   While it is not possible, nor within the scope of this department of this
work, to name each of the many pioneers who deserve mention, the writer cannot
omit the mention of one known to him as a grand woman in her simple purity of
manner and character and strength of mind and will; and who has so recently
passed away that she seems to be with us still. Catherine Bever came to the
county with her husband in 1825, and they built their cabin about a mile east of
the present town of Hillsboro; and from that time until her death she lived upon
the farm which she and her husband there selected. For forty years she lived a
widow and in her eighty-eighth year she gave up the life that had been so
honorable and useful, to the God who gave it. Her influence was always on the
right side; she was considerate, kind and benevolent, but she made no
compromises with wrong; and in a matter involving a question of duty she was as
firm as adamant. She was a christian in the highest acceptation of the term; her
faith was a part of her being, and it entered into her daily life so that she
not only professed Christianity, but lived it. This personal tribute is due to
one who stood as a fitting type of a class of women fast passing away. Of women
who were brave and self-reliant, yet gentle and affectionate, firm in adherence
to duty, yet compassionate in dealing with the faults of others; who braved the
perils of the wilderness and endured the discomforts of a frontier life that we
might have homes surrounded by the advantages which their toil and self-denial
made possible.

   The life of the pioneer women is graphically described by Mrs. Rebecca Julian
in a communication published in a Centreville, Wayne county, paper in 1854, and
quoted by Judge Charles H. Test in his address before the Pioneer Association of
Indiana at its first meeting, in 1878. The following is an extract from the
communication:

   "There were many serious trials in the beginning of this country with those
who settled amid the heavy timber, having nothing to depend upon for a living
but their own industry. Such was our situation. However, we were blessed with
health and strength, and were enabled to accomplish all that was necessary to be
done. Our husbands cleared the ground and assisted each other in rolling the
logs. We often went with them on these occasions to assist in cooking for the
hands. We had first-rate times—just such as hard laboring men and women can
appreciate. We were not what would now be called fashionable cooks. We had no
pound cakes, preserves or jellies, but the substantial prepared were in plain,
honest, old-fashioned style. That is one reason why we were so blest in health.
We had none of your dainties—nicknacks and many fixings that are worse than
nothing. There are many diseases now that were not heard of thirty or forty
years ago, such as dyspepsia, neuralgia, and others too tedious to mention. It
was not fashionable at that time to be weakly. We could take our spinning-wheel
and walk two miles to a spinning frolic, do our day's work, and, after a
first-rate supper, join in some innocent amusement for the evening. We did not
take very particular pains to keep our hands white. We knew they were made to
use to our advantage, therefore we never thought of having hands just to look
at. Each settler had to go and assist his neighbors ten or fifteen days, or
thereabouts, in order to get help again in log-rolling time. This was the only
way to get assistance in return." And Judge Test, himself seventy years a
resident of Indiana, thus speaks of the habits and customs of the women of the
first settlements: "The women at that time, and for many years after, not only
spun and wove the fabrics for their own garments, but for those of the whole
family. They were their own mantua-makers, and did the tailoring for the father
and the sons. I have to-day a pleasing remembrance of their white and
well-fitting dresses, with a stripe of blue or red woven in the fabric out of
which they were made. As to the tailoring, I often thought the waist of the coat
too short by six or eight inches, and the breeches rather scant in material.
Twelve "cuts" was a good day's work, and if there was any surplus of the woven
material, after supplying the wants of the family, it found a ready sale at the
nearest store. It was a high commendation in those days that a young lady was an
adept in spinning and weaving. When I was a young man, some fifty-five years
ago, I occasionally visited the daughter of an old friend. The mother took me
round the cabin and showed me the bundles of yarn her daughter had spun, and the
beautiful coverlids she had woven. Of course I was charmed, but I soon found my
visits were far more agreeable to the mother than to the daughter." It is
scarcely necessary to say that the young lady married some other man.

   How charming a book it would be in whose pages the pioneers of Indiana could
tell the story of their lives in their own language!

   Among the discomforts and the dangers which are common to the settlement of
any wild country, the first settlers of this county were subjected to one that
was uncommon and terrible in its manifestation. As is usual with the settlers of
a new country, the people who first inhabited this county had no pastures for
their cattle except those-which the "woods" furnished. This left their "stock"
exposed to the depredations of the wild beasts and the thieves — for there were
thieves even at this early day. It was extremely annoying to a family, whose cow
furnished the chief sustenance of the children, to have her stolen, or to become
a prey to some savage beast. But a new and more dreadful danger soon made its
appearance, which threatened alike the human and the brute. People became sick
with a strange disease, which usually ended in death in about nine days. The
medical skill of the country — such as it was — was baffled: and the medical
assistance was sometimes of more help to the disease than to the patient. After
much study and investigation, and after many lives had paid the penalty of
ignorance, it was discovered, as was believed by most people, to have its origin
in the use of beef and of milk; and soon the term milk-sickness was applied to a
plague as dreadful as any that people ever suffered from. A fierce controversy
arose as to the cause of this disease, many people denying that it was in any
way attributable to the use of meat or milk, and others denying that it was
peculiar to the locality. What increased the doubt was the fact that of a
family, all of whom used the milk from the same cows, some would be taken with
the disease while others would escape.

   It is related of one family that the members of it used the milk from a cow
whose calf was sick with the "slows," as it was called, without any bad results;
but after the calf was weaned it was killed, and the first time the family used
the meat they were all taken violently sick, with all the symptoms of
"milk-sickness," and all died in a very short time. Another family were all sick
with the disease, except a babe, to whom the milk from the family cow was given
regularly without any ill effects: yet when the same milk was given to a dog he
was immediately attacked with the "slows." All sorts of opinions were
entertained and stoutly maintained. A very prevalent opinion was in the supposed
existence of poisonous springs. This, was based chiefly upon the observed fact
that people and animals were frequently taken suddenly sick with the strange
disease after drinking water; and when this occurred the well or spring from
which the water came was immediately labeled poisonous. It not infrequently
occurred that cattle would be so suddenly attacked with the disease after
drinking that they could not get away from the water, but would die near it, and
the ground about a spring would sometimes be covered with the bones of dead
animals. It is not wonderful, then, that the idea of poison in the water took a
strong hold upon the people. But time has demonstrated that these waters are as
pure and healthful as those of any other locality. The most reasonable
explanation of the phenomenon of sudden sickness after drinking is that the
drinking of a large quantity of water in some way developed the disease that was
until that time latent. Speculation as to the cause of this disease would be out
of place here, and besides it would be useless. Many efforts have been made to
discover the cause, but none have been so far successful as to set the matter at
rest. About all that can be said is that observation and experience have
demonstrated that cattle kept upon tame pastures were never affected by it; and
as the country grew older, and improved farms and cultivated grasses took the
place of the forests and wild herbage, the disease gradually disappeared, until
it is seldom heard of now.

   Another source of annoyance, if not of danger, to which the early settlers of
this county were subject, was the great number of venomous serpents which were
found everywhere. A chronicler of the time tells of them thus:

   "And as to snakes, there was no end to them; like Pharaoh's frogs of old,
they were everywhere,—in the forest, in the yard, in the house, and among the
children — everywhere you turned you met them. * * * When the first warm days of
spring came they would begin to crawl forth from their dens in the crevices of
the rocks, and here they were often met by c willing hands and welcomed to
hospitable graves'; and were often killed by hundreds in one day."

   But if dangers, hardships, annoyances and privations were the lot of these
early settlers, they had pleasures also. There was a pleasure then in the
meeting together of neighbors and families of which we know nothing at this day.
Hospitality was then a pleasure; and those of us who remember the eagerness with
which we watched for news from the front during the war of the rebellion can
form an idea of the welcome with which these pioneers received the stranger who
came to them with news from the great world from which they were shut out,—
often from friends and relatives from whom they had not heard for months and
sometimes years.

   In these early days "every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and
feasted." In the very simplicity of their life, and in the generous hospitality
which they practiced, there was a pleasure which no wealth can purchase, no
luxury produce, and which is unknown to a more advanced condition of society.

   Then the corn huskings, the "raisings," the wood choppings, and the
quiltings! who that has ever attended one of these can forget its royal fun? And
then there was the muster, with all its parade, and the pomp and circumstance of
mimic war. Speaking of these things, upon the occasion before referred to, Judge
Test said:

   "In this crowd of old settlers, who is there that cannot give us a
description of an early corn husking, when the corn heap, being equally divided,
the captain and the men on each side selected, and the party who first finished
their portion of the heap carried their captain in triumph on their shoulders
into the ranks of the opposition, in ridicule of the latter's tardiness? What
venerable mother is here who cannot detail the particulars of a sewing match or
quilting in which they participated in early life, when, after their day's work
was finished, their husbands and neighboring young men joined them at the house,
spent the evening, and sometimes to the small hours of the morning, in playing
'Sister Phoebe,' or, if a violin could be had, in dancing an old-fashioned
'reel'? There are but few of this association who could not tell us something
about the old regimental musters in Indiana, at which most of the voters of the
county attended, and after passing through the various military evolutions, with
clubs and corn-stalks in place of guns, the regiment was addressed by their
distinguished commanders, and often the afternoon was occupied with political
speeches. About the last muster at which I was present, I recollect the colonel
of the regiment was noted for a squeaking voice. When the corps was ready to
receive him he rode up in front of his regiment, the only man in, the field
dressed in uniform, and in his squeaking voice called out, 'Attention!
Battalion'! A boy, two hundred or three hundred yards distant, cried out in
imitation of the commander's voice, 'Children come out of the branch or you will
get snake bit.' Of course it raised a huge laugh, and I never heard of that
regiment-being called out again."

   It would be instructive as well as interesting to present in detail all the
manners and customs of the first years of the country — to present a complete
and perfect picture of its childhood, and to follow the changes which occurred
in these as well as in the physical features of the country, as the years rolled
by, until the present day of railroads and telegraphs and labor-saving machines;
of school-houses and churches; of comfortable homes more completely supplied
with luxuries than were the cabins of the pioneers with necessaries. The visible
reminders of these early days are fast passing away, and the unwritten history
of them ought to be gathered up and recorded. Each township ought to have its
historical society, and it ought to keep a record of current events for the use
of the future historian, and should gather up and preserve all that can be
procured of the history of former years; every incident and story of the life of
the dwellers in the wilderness; all that can be learned of their trials, their
dangers, their manners and their customs ought to be garnered and preserved.

   The men and women who first settled in this county were not wholly
uneducated, and they had a lively sense of the value and necessity of schools;
and scarcely was the cabin built until the question of school-house and
schoolmaster began to occupy the thoughts of the Fountain county pioneer. As
soon as a settlement could muster a dozen or fifteen families, the little log
school-house, with its expansive fireplace in one end, its long, narrow,
greased-paper window in the other, and its uncomfortable puncheon seats ranged
around the walls, made its appearance; and here, during the winter months, the
school. master sat enthroned during the day and "boarded around" the rest of the
time. The branches taught were usually confined to spelling, reading, writing
and arithmetic, and the "rule of three." As indicative of the educational
acquirements of the first settlers, an anecdote furnished by Mr. Wm. Robb, an
early settler in this county, now living in Warren county, may be given:

   "In the year 1826 Mr. Jesse Evans came to Fountain county from Virginia, and
located about six miles east of Covington. The next year a man from Ohio settled
in the same neighborhood. After these two men became acquainted, Mr. Evans asked
his neighbor what his object was in leaving an old settled country and coming to
the wilds of Indiana. His neighbor replied that he came to secure a home for a
growing family, and for no other purpose. Mr. Evans then said that he had no
such object in view, that he was well fixed in the country he came from, had a
saw-mill in the mountains, and could sell all the lumber he could cut; was well
respected by his neighbors; had the confidence of all his acquaintances, and, as
he was the only English scholar for miles around, he had to do all the writing,
such as articles of agreement, etc. He went on to say that he expected to find
just such a people in Indiana as he left in Virginia, and be elected governor of
the state or to a seat in congress. Now, said he, I have become acquainted with
the people of Fountain county, and I find that I am the most ignorant man among
them."

   One of the first marriages in the county, if not the first, was that of James
C. Davis to Sallie Johnson, in April 1824. Miss Johnson was a daughter of
Archibald Johnson, who came to the county in 1823. Mr. Davis was the son of Enos
Davis, who also settled here in the fall of 1S23. The license was obtained in
Terre Haute, and young Davis walked from Terre Haute, coming by the house of
John Hibbs, a minister of the gospel, who had shortly before taken up his
residence in the south part of what is now Wabash township, and procuring his
services to celebrate the marriage ceremony, the two made their way to the house
of the bride on foot. Perhaps in these days young men would think this was
getting married under difficulties. This married pair lived long together and
reared a large family of children, some of whom are yet citizens of the county.

   A wedding in those days was the occasion of a frolic. A writer upon this
subject says: "The wedding was an attractive feature of pioneer life. For a long
time after the first settlement * * * the people married young. There was no
distinction of rank and very little of fortune. On these accounts the first
impression of love generally resulted in marriage. The family establishment cost
but a little labor, nothing more. A description of a wedding in the olden time
will serve to show the progress made in society, as well as preserve an
important phase of history. The marriage was always celebrated in the house of
the bride; and she was generally left to choose the officiating clergyman" or
the "squire." "A wedding, however, engaged the attention of the whole
neighborhood. It was anticipated by both old and young with eager expectation.
In the morning of the wedding day the groom and his intimate friends assembled
at the house of his father, and after due preparation departed en masse for the
'mansion' of his bride." The journey was usually made on horse back. "It was
always a merry journey. * * * On reaching the house of the bride the marriage
ceremony took place; and then dinner or supper was served. After the meal the
dancing commenced, and generally lasted until the following morning. The figures
of the dances were three and four handed reels, or square sets and jigs. The
commencement was always a square four, which was followed by what the pioneers
called 'jigging'; that is, two of the four would single out for a jig, and were
followed by the remaining couple. The jigs were often accompanied with what was
called 'cutting out'; that is, when either of the parties became tired of the
dance, on intimation the place was supplied by some one of the company without
any interruption of the dance.

   " In this way the reel was often continued until the musician was exhausted.
About nine or ten o'clock in the evening a deputation of young ladies stole off
the bride and put her to bed. In doing this they had to ascend a ladder," the
pioneer stairway, "from the kitchen to the upper floor, which was" usually
"composed of loose boards. Here, in this pioneer bridal chamber, the young,
simple-hearted girl was put to bed by her enthusiastic-friends. This done, a
deputation of young men escorted the groom to the same apartment and placed him
snugly by the side of his bride. The dance still continued; and if seats were
scarce, which was generally the case, 'every young man, when not engaged in the
dance, was obliged to offer his lap as a seat for one of the girls; and the
offer was sure to be accepted.'" This last statement needs a little
qualification. The acceptance of the offer generally depended upon the question
whether the right young man made it.

   The next day, or in a day or two, after the wedding an infair was had at the
house of the groom's father. And here the same order of exercises were observed,
except the escort to bed was usually dispensed with.

   It is to be hoped that the young woman of to-day who may read this
description of her grandmother's wedding will not be shocked at what may seem to
her an indelicacy. These things belonged to the custom of the country; they were
a part of its social laws; and it is not too much to say that the men and women
who were married thus were as chaste in deed and thought, and as true to their
marital vows, as any that can be found now. The times and the manners have
changed, and it is no more to be expected that people of this day should follow
the habits and customs of their parents and grandparents than that they should
have their clothing made of the same material, and cut in the same fashion, as
that worn by their ancestors. But while we are putting oft old habits and
customs we should take care that we do not drift away from that old-fashioned
honesty, and lose that indomitable pluck and energy that fitted these early
dwellers in the forest to be the founders of all that prosperity that surrounds
us now.

   A short time before his death, Hon. Joseph Ristine, so long and well known to
the people of this county, wrote down his recollections of its early settlement,
and as nothing of more interest could probably be given here, liberal use of his
manuscript will be made, using his own language in the main. After speaking of
the fact that he had frequently been solicited to write down his recollections
concerning the early history of the county, Judge Ristine says: "Feeling my
incapacity for the task of putting in the shape of written reminiscences my
recollections, such as would be proper to go before the public, I have
hesitated. Coming here in my eighteenth year, with no other advantage than that
afforded by an old-fashioned log school-house, such as southern Ohio afforded in
those early days, I have felt my attainments would not warrant an undertaking of
the kind. Perhaps now that after passing the years allotted man, that vanity
which age is apt to bring has led me to undertake the task. I hope it will not
be expected that I will give as graphic descriptions of men and things as could
be done by those whose better training in the walks of literature and science
could do, and shall only say to those who have desired this that such as I can
will I give unto you.

   The pronoun I, in a matter of this kind, must necessarily be often used; as
it is obnoxious generally, it shall as far as possible be avoided.

   As I shall have to draw largely upon memory for dates, mistakes may occur,
but what is written as facts will be given as they occurred within the knowledge
of the writer. My conclusions must be taken for what they are worth. In June of
1826 my father entered the lands about six miles east of Covington, to which he
removed from Brown county, Ohio, and arrived at those lands on December 6, 1826,
that day being my eighteenth birthday. It was a rainy, gloomy day. Providence,
however, smiled upon him, and, used to western life, supplied with axes, augers,
saws and other essentials necessary to the commencement of life in the woods,
work was commenced by the erection of a double-faced camp, leaving a space
between wide enough to drive a pair of horses, in order to haul in logs to make
fires. Here let me say this preparation was for the accommodation of two
families, neither of them small, the two comprising, in men, women and children,
about eighteen persons. On our journey to our new home in the wilderness, and
while stopping for the night on the bank of White river, west of Indianapolis, a
family by the name of Evans, from Augusta county, Virginia, was encountered.
Here, of course, an acquaintance was made. Mr. Evans had never been out of the
Old Dominion until he started west, and knew not where he would go or where
would be his stopping place. This family was pretty well prepared. Mr. Evans had
a good four-horse team and comfortable clothing, etc., and $400 or $500 in
money. After the interview of the night Mr. Evans concluded that where my father
went he would go, and these camps were built for the comfort of both families.
Although in December, the weather became settled, clear, and (for that month)
warm. My father at once set about the erection of what was known as a double log
cabin. Mr. Evans, with three boys, and my father with three, went to work, and
by Christmas we had our cabin so near complete,— with clapboard roof, puncheon
floors, chinking and daubing done,— that we got out of camp into what was
regarded as a pretty respectable dwelling. My father aided Mr. Evans in the
selection of land which he entered adjoining our land. Mr. Evans, after abiding
comfortably in the camp all winter, built a cabin in the spring of 1827 on his
"own land, where for years after the two families lived as kind neighbors.
Within the range of three miles there were settled Abner Bush, John Simpson,
William Cochran, Hiram Jones, Benjamin Kepner, Joseph Glascock, Thomas Patton,
Capt. White and Leonard Loyd, all of .whom gave ns a kind greeting and hearty
welcome. While at this point the peculiarities of my old friend Jesse Evans will
be noticed. As has been stated, he had never been out of Virginia until he made
his break for the west. Mr. Evans was not a man wholly without education. He
could read, wrote a good, legible hand, with a fair common arithmetical
knowledge, such as to lit him for the ordinary business of life. He had no fixed
political ideas, and his association with my father, I think, had much to do in
making him a democrat. He had pretty exalted ideas of old Virginia, with but a
slight conception of the character of the men of the west. In the presidential
contest of 1828 he was a very ardent "Jackson man," and although he was about
fifty-five years of age he was confounded upon the question of voting for
electors instead of voting directly for Jackson or Adams. Although I was not
quite twenty years of age, I understood sufficient to explain the mode so that
he comprehended it, and in the honesty of his heart he gave me his ideas of
himself before starting west. These were, that he would go west and stand among
his fellows a head and shoulders above them all; "but now," said he, "I have
been here only about two years, and, 'tis a fact, I now find it out that nine
out of ten know more than I do." Mr. Evans continued a democrat until the mantle
of the democracy, under the shield of Gen. Jackson, fell upon Martin Van Buren.
The hue and cry of the ills arising from the sub-treasury system, the
extravagance inaugurated at the White House by the little sly nabob from New
York, accompanied with the gold spoon stories, bewildered the old man, until his
first conception of himself returned. He turned his back upon democrats, and his
regrets were that he had not money enough to go to Washington, or he would go,
as he knew that he could in twenty minutes convince Mr. Van Buren of the errors
of his policy, and thereby save the country from ruin. He became an idolater of
the old whig party, and died in that faith, withal an honest man. Having
disposed of Jesse Evans, a return will be made to our start-off—to prepare bread
for the future. Wild game was so plenty there were no fears but we would have
plenty of meats. Father, having to return to Ohio that winter on account of
business, marked off what he designed as fifteen acres, to clear up for corn
planting in the springs gave us three boys directions to cut all under eighteen
inches, and have the brush piled and burned, and the logs cut and prepared for
rolling upon his return, mother to take general supervision of our attention to
business in his absence. I can give assurance that no kinder mother lived than
we had, and a watchfulness over her trust was kept such as would be a good
example to many mothers of the present day. Rails were to be made to fence the
land, and, by the way, my brother next younger than I and myself were
rail-makers, and being about the age of the lamented Lincoln, could have
competed with him in rail-splitting. I don't know but some of the walnut rails
are on the premises yet. We completed the task and log-rolling time came. With
the aid of our kind neighbors this was a short job, and the fifteen acres were
planted in corn and produced an abundant yield. Corn, potatoes, beans, turnips
and pumpkins made good returns for the labor bestowed. The sugar-making season
came on, and this had to be attended to. Not having vessels to care for the
molasses, a trough made from the trunk of a poplar tree, large enough to hold
fifty or sixty gallons, was nicely hewn out as the receptacle for them. Another
necessity had to be supplied. A block was prepared to make hominy. This was done
by sawing off of the trunk of a good solid oak tree a piece about three feet in
length, and about eighteen or twenty inches in diameter; scalloping out one end
by cutting and burning a hole, in the shape of a bowl, large enough to hold a
half-bushel or more of corn; then, with an iron wedge banded in the end of a
stick, the corn was pounded until the outer coating of the grain was beaten off.
This, by long boiling, made a good substitute for bread; and, with corn meal to
be had at White's mill, ground on stones prepared from the large boulders found
in the forests, — these, with wild meat, furnished our first winters food. We
had milk and butter from our cows, and, with corn bread made into "dodgers,"
pones and Johnny-cakes, with basted turkey and venison for meats, and plenty of
hard work as an appetizer, we lived well and slept soundly.

   The mode of basting a turkey, a young pig, a ground hog or an opossum was
this: The turkey, or whatever it was, was hung by a cord to a nail or a wooden
pin placed in the log over the front of the fire-place, while a mixture for the
seasoning was placed in a pan under it. By twisting the cord it was set in
motion before the blazing fire, and kept well saturated with the condiment from
the pan beneath, until thoroughly cooked.

   Thus we lived," and thus did most of our neighbors. Most sleeping apartments
were uniquely furnished; a Wabash bedstead ornamented most of the log cabins of
those days. This consisted of an upright post about three or four feet long, cut
from a sapling four or five inches in diameter, through which were bored several
one-and-a-half or two-inch auger holes in transverse order near each other;
opposite to these were bored, in the logs of the cabin, like holes; into these
holes in the logs of the cabin and the post set out on the puncheon floor, were
inserted poles or rails of sufficient strength to bear the burden of two or
three grown persons, on which were placed poles, or split slats; upon these were
thrown ticks filled with dry grass, or straw, where it could be had. This gives
a pretty fair description of the architecture of an early Wabash bedstead with
its furniture, which with some blankets, and sometimes coverlets, often aided by
buffalo robes and wolf skins, fitted out a bed for winter. For summer sleeping,
a buffalo robe and coverlet spread upon a puncheon floor made good sleeping
quarters for the sturdy boys that swung the axe, wielded the maul, or followed
the plow. Amusements were not as plenty then as now; but as the enjoyments were
rare, they were more highly prized; leisure once in awhile would occur, and a
day spent in hunting or fishing gave as much comfort then as now. There were
fiddles in the country, and often, after a hard day's work of rolling logs,,
where all the boys and girls of the neighborhood, which generally included a
circuit of two, three or four miles, were congregated, there would be, after the
supper was over, a good old-fashioned dance of French fours, opera reels and
games of hunt the squirrel, etc. etc., which would be kept up until the small
hours of the morning, when all would repair to their homes, the girls attended
by the boys, and when morning came all would be ready again for the labors of
the day. I must here relate an incident of the first winter. While clearing up
the land I have spoken of, my brother Wright and I were busily engaged chopping;
there was no underbrush, and objects could be seen as far as the eye could
reach, obstructed only by forest trees; in the distance an object was seen
approaching us, and we ceased our work to observe what it was. We were not long
in discerning that the object was a man carrying a gun, with the accoutrements
of a hunter. He had been attracted to us by the noise of our axes. Upon his
approach we gave him a kind, cordial greeting, and found his name to be Nathan
Gil-lam.. He was about our own age, and his father lived on Coal creek about two
miles below White's mills. We found him a very interesting young uimrod, whose
apparel especially attracted our attention. From his toes to his neck was
buckskin; moccasins for his feet, buckskin for breeches, fitted closely with
strings at the ankles over the tops of his moccasins, a buckskin vest—what his
shirt was I don't remember—a buckskin hunting shirt, a fox-skin shot pouch, and
a coon-skin cap, with the tail ornamenting the rear; thus, with his powder horn,
a butcher's knife, a rifle, of course of the old flint-lock style, gives a fair
account of his apparel. Our curiosity was excited; my brother's so much so that
he, in the language of this day, interviewed him on the subject of the comforts
of such a dress. "Oh!" said he, "I never suffer from cold only in the morning;
when I stick my legs in it is hell. Just imagine," said he, " running your naked
leg through a hole cut in the ice of Coal creek and yon will get an idea of that
part of it; but when I get them on," said he, " and warmed up, then all is right
and I never suffer." We often with pleasure met him afterward. His father about
1829 or 1830 removed to Carroll county, where, after the office of county
auditor was created, Nathan was elected auditor, and made a good, faithful
officer. Nature wisely provides sustenance, or the means to procure the same,
for all living creatures. Here the forests, unbroken by the hand of man, were
loaded with nuts and fruits, and the earth with herbage sufficient to well
supply the herds of deer and all other wild animals roaming in them.

   " While my father was in Ohio he promised my eldest brother, who was a
bricklayer, that I should come back to Ohio and learn the trade with him as soon
as our corn was planted. I had already worked at the trade with my brother until
I had learned pretty well how to lay bricks. When the time came for me to go I
was fitted out with a horse, saddle and the old-fashioned saddle-bags, and $5 in
money. Thus equipped I started on my journey to a point on the eastern edge of
Brown county, Ohio, about fifty-five miles above Cincinnati. No anxiety existed
as to the sufficiency of the outfit; and it is enough to say that I safely made
the trip, stopping, when I could, at the proper time to get something to eat for
myself and my horse, paying all bills charged me, and on my arrival at my
brother's I had $1.50 left. On the morning of my departure from home, Andrew
Ingram, well known afterward to the people along this portion of the Wabash, who
had but a short time before completed his study of the law with Calvin Fletcher,
and who had been to Covington, which had just been laid out, looking for a
location to commence the practice, came along on his way back to Indianapolis,
and to that point I had his company through an almost unbroken forest. He
finally located at La Fayette, where, after a long and successful practice, with
aft unsullied reputation, he died. Through all these years, from our trip to his
death, our relations were those of friends. After spending the summer with my
brother I started for the Wabash in company with two families emigrating to this
county, and to the neighborhood of ray father's; one of which was the family of
my estimable friend William Robb, who with his good wife, at the time of this
writing, are yet in their old days living in comfort in Warren county, Indiana.
Robb had a brother about my own age, and he and I, both on foot, drove the
stock, and in due time, without any incidents except a good deal of boys' fun by
the way, arrived safely at my father's. I have failed to say that I cannot
recall on my trip to my brother's the payment of scarcely anything until I
passed Connersville. Stopping at log cabins the traveler was greeted as a
friend. No odds how ill-prepared the tenants were, the best they had you were
sure to get, and in the morning, without charge, were bade to go your way with a
good, hearty, friendly adieu. The most generous hospitality this region ever
witnessed was found in those cabins. Whenever the wayworn and weary traveler
fell upon a habitation, such as is described by some practical genius, he had a
guarantee of kind treatment. I regret I cannot recall the whole effusion; here,
however, is a part, such as I now read:

     'A stranger riding through the West,
      Fell upon a Hoosier's nest,
      In other words a buckeye cabin,
      Just large enough to hold Queen Mab in.
      A rifle hung up o'er the door,
      Two dogs lay stretched upon the floor.
      One side was hung with divers garments,
      Another strung with skins of varmints.'

These ornaments to a log cabin were very common; indeed were seen in almost
every one. On my return I could but observe the change one summer and fall had
made. Cabins were dotted here and there through the woods, and up and down Coal
creek, showing how busy emigration had been. I had been at home but a few days
when a large, good looking man appeared at my father's on the hunt of a
bricklayer. I soon found out that it was a Mr. Ignatius Morris, who had settled
in the bend of the river above Covington. He wanted a chimney built to a
one-story hewed log cabin; this was about nine miles away, and for so small a
job it was declined; but he urged that on building his, Judge Nebeker, of whom I
shall have occasion to speak, had a two-story house, and that he also wanted a
chimney, and he said if I would go and build his the other job would be had
also; this consideration was sufficient; this was about the last of November
1827. Finishing the Morris chimney the Judge Nebeker one was undertaken. Here,
to supply me with brick and mortar, I found for my attendants Richard M. Nebeker
and George, his brother; the former at this time postmaster at Covington, the
latter a banker and farmer; and from thence until now nothing has disturbed our
friendly relations except an occasional political wrangle. The chimney was
commenced with the two boys, Dick, as we familiarly call him, aged I should
think about fourteen, and George about two years younger, as assistants, and
with the old gentleman as regulator and supervisor. Generally, when the day's
work was done and night came on, I sat and listened to the life-long experience
of the old chief of the family. He had an excellent lady for a wife, and a
family at home of two young ladies and three boys: Richard, George and Lucas,
the latter now a Methodist preacher of some distinction; there were also, as I
remember, two daughters, who were then small children.

   "I had a pleasant time here, although the weather was so cold boiling water
had to be used to make the mortar. The incidents and dangers of our new homes
were all canvassed; wolves, Indians, (least harmless of all), snakes, wild hogs
and mad dogs, all had their place; fevers and ague had their share in our talk.
On the day before the chimney was completed, the news reached us that a dog
belonging to a man by the name of DeHart had gone mad, but that he was chained
up. On the next morning, before I left for home, the news reached the Kebaker
family that the dog had broken his chain and was at large. I had a horrid fear
of mad dogs. Here I was on foot; I dared not make manifest my fears so that the
young ladies might know it, for I was impressed with the idea that ladies had a
contempt for the coward; yet I am willing to admit when I bade them an adieu
that morning with the hope that we should meet again they were not filling my
head half so much as was old De Hart's dog.

   "Alarmed as I was, and on foot, I took my departure armed with my trowel and
plumb-bob, afraid to get a good shilalah to fight a dog lest I should be laughed
at. A road wound its way along where 'Nase' Morris lived, and where I had built
the chimney, and from thence across through hazel and other underbrush for about
three-quarters of a mile to Mr. George Steely's. Mad dog was uppermost in my
mind, and just about the midst of this hazel thicket a slight hog-path crossed
my track. My eye, on the lookout for mad dog, espied a dog with his head bloody,
no doubt from some sheep transaction; every hair on my head, I think, must have
given the appearance of a porcupine's quill. I hailed his dogship, and he
wheeled, and with tail between his legs fled. Which was frightened most I don't
know, but think I was, as it was not before my arrival, at Covington that my
shock was removed. It was some time before the story was told, through fear of a
laugh at my cost.

   "Covington, although laid out as a town in the summer of 1826, had not yet
become a county seat. The peculiar geographical situation of the county, as may
be seen by the map, which has remained unchanged, led to a rivalry for the
location of the seat of justice, which was not determined until 1828; Portland,
lying on the river about seven miles north and east of Covington, on a high,
commanding, rocky bluff, presenting, from its facilities for boating purposes,
with a magnificent country for agricultural and grazing purposes, strong claims:
to the honor of the county seat. The proprietors were Maj. Whitlock, the
receiver of public money of the land office at Crawfordsville, and William
Miller, a most excellent, quiet Presbyterian gentleman, who located as a farmer
out east of Portland on the north fork of Coal creek. Miller was a quiet,
easy-going man. Maj. Whitlock, although a man of great force, was occupied with
his official trusts too deeply to engage in the contest for a county seat. The
other point was what was urged as nearest to the geographical center of the
county, which was insisted to be in the vicinity of the forks of Coal creek. No
town was laid out in that region, although along the two branches of the creek,
extending up from the forks, was perhaps the strongest population then in the
county. This point had for its advocates, as leaders, Jonathan Birch and William
Cochran, who made a strong and determined effort to secure it. Both were men of
force and capacity.

   " Isaac Colman, an early Wabash man with much sagacity, looking at the
situation, entered the land, eighty acres, where the old plat of Covington now
is, and laid out a town; he temptingly offered handsome donations to the public
in the way of lots and public grounds. There were in Covington at this time but
few inhabitants. Mr. Joseph L. Sloan, a young man of pleasing manners, sent to
Covington with a small stock goods, under the auspices of Daniel Yandes, of
Indianapolis; David Rawles, who had just started out in life as hotel-keeper,
both of whom have passed over the river, and Dr. John Hamilton, all active men,
with many others in the surrounding country, were all active, and were
successful in inducing the commissioners to locate the seat of justice at
Covington. The ill-shaped boundary of the county, taking all the then
surroundings, made most eligible the location of the county seat at Covington.
To almost all the people of this day it is a matter of surprise that our county
should have been located with its present boundaries. We who were here at the
time, and for many years afterward, did not think it strange, as the Wabash was
regarded a navigable stream, and an obstruction to the convenient intercourse of
the people on the opposite sides of the river. Such was the fact; the Wabash was
a navigable stream, so declared by the federal government, and the thought of
bridging the river was about as little dreamed of by the people as the idea of
building railroads. It is true, the general government, with a view to opening
up a great public thoroughfare, connecting the federal capital with the great
father of waters at St. Louis, commenced and constructed a large portion of what
was known as the Cumberland road. Much work was done in Indiana in the
construction, of this road. It was contemplated by the government to bridge the
Wabash at Terre Haute, where this road was to cross the river. About this time
the bridge over White river at Indianapolis was built, which was regarded as a
great feat by the Hoosiers. "Much preparation had been made for the construction
of a bridge across the river at Terre Haute. The government, about 1828, saw
proper to change its policy, and the work was abandoned. Under these
circumstances, impressed with an improper conception of the magnitude of the
river, the decision of the commissioners was in favor of the location at Covington.

   "The proprietor, Mr. Isaac Colman, granting one block or square of the town
for a court-house, one for a seminary, and one for church purposes.

   "Notwithstanding the county had been organized in 1826, and the town of
Covington laid out with the foregoing inducements, the opposition made by such
men as Jonathan Birch, William Cochran, John Corse, and others of less note, was
strong enough to delay a final location until 1828. This county, when organized,
fell within, and constituted a part of, the judicial circuit over which the Hon.
John. R. Porter presided as presiding judge. The first election held for this
county was in August, 1826, at which election Lucas Nebeker Sr., and Evan Hinton
were elected associate judges. Neither of them were learned in the law, but
under the old regime it was thought that the determination of facts were more
safely entrusted for conclusion with three than with one. Porter was an educated
gentleman, learned in the law, with an equanimity of temperament such as well
fitted him to be an arbiter of others' troubles. His associates were both farmer
gentlemen of integrity and sound, practical judgment."

   This narrative ends abruptly at this point, and soon after its last lines
were written its author went to sleep with that "sleep that knows no waking."
Any further account of the early settlers of the county is impossible, by reason
of limitation of time and the space into which the general history of the county
must be compressed. There are many incidents and features connected with the
life of the early inhabitants of the county which would be highly interesting
and instructive, and in some cases amusing, if they could be collected and
presented in a readable form; and it is to be regretted that adequate time and
information are not at command to thus present and preserve them. The age of the
county is not yet that allotted to man by the scriptures; and what a wonderful
transformation has taken place in the fifty-four years of its existence. From a
wilderness with a few dwellers in log-cabins scattered here and there in the
midst of dense forests, struggling for an existence, there has grown a county
rich in her farms, in her productions, in her schools and public institutions;
with railroad and telegraph lines crossing her territory, and elegant homes,
where comfort, peace and plenty reside in sight of each other from boundary to
boundary. The log-cabin has given Way to convenient, and in many cases elegant,
brick and frame residences; the rude school-house and church building have
disappeared, and comfortable houses, supplied with modern seats and heating and
ventilating apparatus, have taken their places. The side-saddle and riding
behind have been discarded by the women, and buggies and carriages are to be
found upon nearly every farm; the old wooden "mould-board" has been supplanted
by plows whose beauty of proportion, finish and action are enough almost to
charm the earth into fertility. The sickle and the cradle have given way to the
reaper and binder, and the scythe to the mower, and the farmer can now harvest
his wheat and barley and rye and oats and hay with nearly as much ease as he can
ride to town in his carriage, and with far more pleasure if his visit to town is
to pay his taxes. The flail is a thing so much of the past that it is doubtful
whether many of the younger readers of this can at once tell what kind of an
instrument it was. The flail gave way to the "ground-hog" thresher, and that to
the machine that has been so improved and perfected that the grain can be taken
direct from it to the mill or the market. And are not all these but the promise
of what is to be? May not our children and grandchildren fifty years hence look
back to this time and commiserate the condition of their parents and
grandparents who had so few of the conveniences and facilities which they shall
then enjoy?


Additional Comments:
Extracted from:

HISTORY OF FOUNTAIN COUNTY,

TOGETHER WITH
HISTORIC NOTES ON THE WABASH VALLEY,

GLEANED FROM EARLY AUTHORS, OLD MAPS AND MANUSCRIPTS
PRIVATE AND OFFICIAL CORRESPONDENCE, AND OTHER AUTHENTIC, THOUGH, FOR THE MOST
PART, OUT-OF-THE-WAY SOURCES.

BY H. W. BECKWITH,
OF THE DANVILLE BAR; CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE HISTORICAL SOCIETIES OF
WISCONSIN AND CHICAGO.

WITH MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

CHICAGO: H. H. HILL AND N. IDDINGS, PUBLISHERS.
1881.


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