"Being subject to diverse inconveniences
for
want of distinction, I add to my name Shoebridge, in the 22nd of the
2nd
month, 1820. John S. Williams."
This is a record from the Bible of John
Shoebridge
Williams, showing that at the age of 30 he required a distinguishing
name
and therefore took the middle name, Shoebridge.
[rest is by John S. Williams in "American Pioneer," 1843]
ROBERT WILLIAMS OF RUTHIN, WALES
"My father's name was Robert. He was
born in the town of Ruthin, in Denbighshire just 120 years ago. A
love of novelty soon led him to England, and thence to America.
He
opened two mercantile establishments in Newbern and Beaufort,
N.C.
In 1767 he married Elizabeth Dearman, an English lady, and by way of a
honeymoon excursion, brought his wife to America, with the prospect of
a speedy return for settlement. She invited Anne Shoebridge,
of
Essex, or London, my mother, then a young lady of 19, to visit America,
as her companion. The invitation was accepted. When we
consider
that to cross the Atlantic it then required to be tumbled and tossed on
the waves from eight to twelve weeks at a time, it will be seen that
that
visit heads most of the honeymoon trips now in fashion.
Twice they were ready to return, once packed
up, but a wise Providence ordered that the children of these women
should
be born Americans.
By his first wife, Elizabeth, he had but one
child, Richard, now living in Massillon, or near Massillon, in the sate
of Ohio. She, Robert Williams' first wife, died in 1773, and he,
Robert Williams, married my mother October 1st, 1774, by whom he had
eight
children, three only of whom lived to be known by name: Elizabeth
Garretson, Samuel Williams, and myself, J.S.Williams. I mention
the
time of my mother's marriage with some degree of pride. It took
place
very near, if not the very day that Logan made his celebrated speech,
and
not far from the time the Bostonians made their great dish of cold
water
tea.
ROBERT WILLIAMS' BUSINESS REVERSES
"My father is said to have been wealthy, but several causes contributed to lessen his fortune, until at the time of his death, in 1790, a few weeks after my birth, his estate was considerably embarrassed. A great storm at sea seemed, as I have heard, to put the first check to his success. Then the failure of an extensive house in London, then the Revolutionary war, and the reception of continental money. This he kept, in dependence on the Government, until it was nearly worthless. The breaking out of the Revolution (1771), which was concluded in 1775, added to other considerations, determined him to retire from mercantile pursuits, which he did, to a fine estate in Carteret County, N.C., chosen with reference to its value for timber and water power.
ROBERT WILLIAMS' MILL DAM
"He built a fine milling establishment,
both
flouring and sawing, breasting against a dam, which held an
inexhaustible
supply of water in a pond of from six to ten miles in circuit.
Scarcely
was this done till the whole dam and all went down stream into tide
water,
which flowed up the mill-tail. The vast quantity of water which rushed
through the breach in the alluvians of Carolina left a hole of 90 feet
in depth from the top of the dam. This it was necessary to repair
before water could again be accumulated.
"He, my father, was not to be outdone in that
way, but mills were built separate at each end of the dam, which are
standing
yet for all I know. His benevolence, a characteristic of his
nation,
grew upon him with age: and 'tis said he carried this very far.
He
also at one time set his whole plantation of slaves free, probably in
or
about 1780, when the Society of Friends (of which he was a member)
manumitted
theirs. Several of these stayed about us until we left Carolina,
and two, an ancient man named Quam, lived in our house until his death
in 1794: and a female named Jenney followed us to Ohio in 1802, and
died
in our house in 1804. From what was known of these native
Africans,
it was believed they were nearly, if not quite, 100 years of age at
their
deaths. If there is a Heaven for the good, which I doubt not,
these
two must be in it.
"My father's estate, being somewhat
embarrassed,
and, as is understood, mismanaged by his executors, left my mother
little
except our homestead of 1100 acres of fine land and part of the
personal
property. She was still in comfortable, but not by any means in
affluent
circumstances. It may now be seen that we were neither born with
a silver spoon in our mouths nor a very good prospect of having one
placed
there to remain, and until we shall be satisfied that such things are
of
real advantage to youth we shall not suffer regrets to arise on account
of the darkening of our youthful sky.
EARLY LIFE OF JOHN SHOEBRIDGE WILLIAMS
"In one thing we count ourselves most fortunate. As is customary in the South, aged blacks take care of the children. Old Quam was appointed my guardian, and a more faithful one never protected a ward. There is something surprising about blacks, as well as Indians, that attach them to children, and children to them, more firmly than can, under similar circumstances bind whites. It is an undeniable fact that blacks are more faithful nurses than whites, or at least children seem to think so. I thought nobody equal to old Quam: he thought there never was such a fine, black-haired, curly headed, blue-eyed boy before born, as I was, although I kept him running after me in daytime, like a hen after one chicken. I had a deal of Welsh blood about me, and would go when I pleased, and Quam would not cross me, not he; and thus he was perpetually in a stew to keep me out of every danger, both real and imaginary. He loved my mother as if she were his own, and he knew besides the loss I would be to him; my death would almost kill her, as I was by more than ten her youngest living child. Old Quam escaped from a deal of anxious concern at his death.
"My being so much the youngest, and living in a slave country, which makes white children scarce, my only companion during my first four years was old Quam. He was eminently pious and pre-eminently innocent. He was just such a nurse as was calculated to have a good effect upon me. I remember him well and very vividly the time of his death, by which, at four years, I lost my friend. Previously he had taught me many of the essentials of religion. He had most firmly impressed on my mind that there was a Great Good Man who made everything. That he lived away up in the sky. That he could see all we did. That when we did good he loved and smiled at us, but when we hurt anything or did anybody harm he was sorry, and would frown at us and would not like us. That it was very wrong to displease him. Although Quam knew not a letter, he could repeat whole verses of Scripture, and, as I have heard, some chapters. He use to tell me of wicked people, how they oppressed and destroyed one another, and how the Great Good Man was so angry at some wicked people that he made their country so dark that they could feel the darkness, like grains of corn.
"In this way he would so impress me as to make me cry, till the family would be drawn to know what was the matter. My good mother was eminently pious, too, and always took much pains to impress my mind with love and fear for the Supreme Being, but I could not understand her as I could Quam's simple illustrations.
"I was very much indulged, and had it not been for Quam's pious influence, a boy of my wayward propensities could scarcely have been kept within tolerable bounds. There is no wonder I was indulged when we consider my situation as last in the family and first in the heart of my widowed mother, who, however, never let her feelings overcome her prudence, but kept me within reasonable bounds after Quam's death. While Quam lived, he was not satisfied to be parted from me the whole of any night. He would get up every night in sweet-potato time, and have some roasted by three or four o'clock, and then I was just as regular to wake and my sister must carry me out to Quam in the kitchen. There I would eat potatoes and ask him questions, and we would chat over all our concerns till near daylight, when I would tumble down on his bunk and finish the night in sleeping and he in watching. These things seem to me almost as if they happened last year. Old Quam's great indulgence in satisfying all my inquiries to the best of his ability, and never checking me in asking and inquiring, I have no doubt, the same was of essential service to me. I have not a particle of doubt that it gave me an early memory. I can well remember when two and a half years old, being held one night in a door by my sister to see the sawmill burn, which was say forty rods from the house. I remember the fire that flew towards our house, and their anxiety and precaution in extinguishing sparks on the roof on which was old Quam, and how my teeth chattered with fear and cold. I believe, too, that not only this early and definite memory was the result of his indulging all my inquiries, but that it gave me great facilities in attending to studies and in acquiring knowledge in after life.
"It is miserable treatment to rebuke a child who, from the affection of knowing, will ask a thousand questions. Sometimes burdensome, to be sure, but when we consider that upon that affection of knowing is built all the child's advancement in knowledge afterwards, how cruel it is to rebuke the inquiries of the infant. Many a parent has ruined his child by this kind of discouragement, and afterwards chastised him for not loving and attending to studies and for making slow progress therein, when his own thoughtless course had produced that apathy and inability. All innocent inquiries by infants and children at all proper times should be indulged and encouraged, how pestersome soever they may seem.
EARLY SCHOOLING OF ELIZABETH AND SAMUEL
"Being born among a dense slave population,
and twelve miles from the nearest settlement of friends, white children
were very thinly scattered, so that country schools could not be
maintained.
White children were sent from home for schooling. I never knew a
school in that country except one quarter (which would be three months)
kept by one Thomas Eceles, when I was four and a half years old.
My sister and brother attended. I, however, under the tuition of
my mother, learned so as to read with ease at the age of seven.
Being
divested of all playmates in childhood, induced a singular turn of
mind,
which may be seen to this day, and which I shall never be bereft of,
were
it desirable. I learned rapidly, never wore out or abused a book
in my life. I kept my first primer, toy books, spelling books,
slate,
arithmetic, and without a leaf amiss, until I had a nephew old enough
to
use them. I have sometimes regretted giving them to him, as I was
grieved to see they were soon gone when placed in other hands.
"Owing to the waywardness of my disposition,
and evil propensities of my nature, I do think that had it not been for
the early influences of old Quam and my mother, that I could not have
been
a man that society would have tolerated. They took singular pains
to impress my mind with a horror of inflicting pain on even the meanest
insect. When a child I would cry to see one wounded. I
could
not bear to witness the writhings of a conch, boiling to death in its
own
shell. That seemed to be the only manner of killing them. I
could not bear to see fish struggling on the shore for breath, nor
clams
roasting for dinner. To my early tuition may be attributed the
fact
that, although in boyhood and youthfulness I was an inhabitant of the
woods,
in the midst of and often annoyed by wild animals, and I had a gun at
command,
I never shot at but four living creatures, all of which escaped; and
when
I considered that some of them might be seriously wounded and suffering
in pain, and writhing in death, all thoughts of shooting at animals
were
abandoned. I always considered it fortunate that my early
infancy,
in which is laid the foundation of the future man, fell into such hands
as old Quam and my mother; but, unfortunately, that while I have lost
much
of the good infantile education, I have retained much, if not most of
that
which was erroneous, and added of my own what is wrong. My early
seclusion from children induced a singular turn of mind and propensity
to be alone. This will show itself frequently in the eyes of
others
to great disadvantage. Perhaps my voluntary relinquishment of my
right among the Friends at the age of 37 may in part be traced to this
source.
A BOND HELD BY A TORY
"The most severe stroke that I remember to have fallen on my mother was in 1799. She received information that the heirs of one Sam Connell were coming on us for debt, contracted before the Revolution. At a certain time, as I have heard, my father expected three vessels from England, that he had engaged to reload with naval stores. He had the loading on the wharf, in Newbern, when a long and tempestuous storm set into the mouth of the Neus River until it was so swollen as to float off his loading. Much of it was lost, and before he could collect enough more the vessels came, and of Sam Connell he purchased to the value of seventy pounds, for which he gave his bond. The Revolution commenced soon after. Connell was a Tory and ran off to England with the bond. This prevented its settlement. After Jay's treaty the heirs came upon us, not only for principal and interest but compound interest. Twenty-five or thirty years had swollen it to a considerable sum. However questionable the compulsion of a widow, who had not anything like her third at the final settlement of the estate, might be, mother was never the woman to think that any circumstances could justify debts being left unpaid while anything was remaining. I am proud to say that she never got into the late fashion of believing that the widow of a landholder or speculator ought to be wealthy, whether her husband was ever really worth a cent or not. The executors agreed to take the homestead and let her have all the remaining personal property. She agreed to the proposal, and in order to enable her to remove to the Northwest Territory she sold what the family could spare. Her personal property sold very low, as it was a time of general emigration.
FROM BEAUFORT TO ALEXANDRIA BY SAILING VESSEL
"In April, 1800, we sailed from Beaufort for Alexandria, in company with seventy other emigrants, large and small, say twelve families. We had one storm and were once becalmed in Core Sound, and had to wait about two weeks at Curritue Inlet (now filled up) for a wind to take us to sea. From thence to Alexandria we had a fine run, especially up the Potomac Bay. While cooped up in the vessel a circumstance happened to me that I shall never forget, and was always of use to me. One of the first nights of the voyage I lost my trousers, so that when it was time to dress in the morning my indispensables were non est inventis. There were many of both sexes present, for the schooner had very little loading but emigrants. The mortification felt for half an hour at the accident was never erased from my memory, and from that time to this, I never undress without knowing precisely where my clothing is left. During the storm we were in, the majority on board were seasick, and we had rather a disagreeable time among, say forty or fifty vomiting individuals. Neither that nor the rolling of the vessel affected me, as it happened. This is mentioned as one of the disagreeabilities of emigration that makes settling in the woods feel more comfortable by contrast. At Alexandria we remained several days before we got wagons to bring us out. Here everything was weighed. My weight was just 75 pounds.
THROUGH THE VIRGINIA MOUNTAINS
"We stopped here two weeks, on what I think was called Goose Creek in Virginia, before we could be supplied with a wagon to cross the mountains, in place of the one we occupied which belonged there. We stayed one night at Dinah Besor's Tavern, at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was called Dinah Besor's house, because the gray mare was there the better horse. Some of the boys mounted a fine cherry tree, for which the old man gave them a scolding, lest they might break the limb. I noticed the immense number of whippoorwills that were here, and the difference in their note from what I was used to. Here their cry resembled their name, but in Carolina it resembled the words 'whip the widow whitcoak.' The mountain roads (if roads they could be called, for pack horses were still on them), were of the most dangerous and difficult. I have heard an old mountain tavernkeeper say that although the taverns were less than two miles apart, in years after we came, he has known many immigrant families that stopped a night at every tavern on the mountain. I recollect but few of our night stands distinctly, say Dinah Besor's, Goose Creek, old Creeks, near the South Branch, Thomlinson's, Besontown, and Simpkins, and Merritstown. Our company consisted of Joseph Due, Levina Hall, and Jonas Small, with their families.
SOJOURN AT FREDERICKTOWN, PA.
After a tedious journey, we all arrived safe
at
Fredericktown, Washington county, Pa., where we stopped to await the
opening
of the land office at Steubenville, Ohio. Here we found Horton
Howard
and family, who had come on the season previous. Here also the
children
had the whooping cough. Those whom we left at Alexandria came to
Redstone old fort, ten miles below Fredericktown, where they sojourned
for the same purpose; and although as we thought unfortunately
detained,
they were first at their resting place. We regretted much to
leave
them, but considered ourselves fortunate in being the first to start;
but,
like many circumstances in life, where appearances are not realities,
they
were fortunate in being left for a better and more speedy conveyance.
"Jonas Small, Francis Mace, and several other
families from Red Stone, returned to Carolina, dissatisfied with the
hills,
vales and mud of the Northwest, little dreaming of the level and open
prairies
of this valley. Horton Howard and family started first from
Fredericktown.
THROUGH PENNSYLVANIA MOUNTAINS INTO OHIO
"Joseph Due, Livina Hall and ourselves made
another start in September or early in October. We started in the
afternoon, and lay at Benjamine Townsend's, on Fish Pot Run. We
lay
also at the Blueball, near Washington; at Rice's on the Buffalo; and at
Warren on the Ohio. These are all the night stands I now
recollect,
in 55 miles. We arrived safe at John Leaf's, in what is now
called
Concord Settlement. From Warren, Joseph Due and Mrs. Hall
proceeded
up little Short Creek and stopped near where Mount Pleasant now is, in
what is now called Concord Settlement. Four or five years
previously
five or six persons had squatted and made small improvements. The
Friends, chiefly from Carolina, had taken the land at a clear
sweep.
Mr. Leaf lived on a tract bought by Horton Howard, since owned by
Samuel
Potts, and subsequently by William Millhouse. Horton Howard had
turned
in on Mr. Leaf, and we turned in on both.
"If anyone had an idea of the appearance of
the remnants of a town that has been nearly destroyed by fire, and the
houseless inhabitants turned in upon those who were left, they can form
some idea of the squatters' cabins that fall. It was a real
harvest
for them, however, for they received the rhino for the privileges
granted
and work done, as well as in aid of the immigrants in getting cabins
up,
as for their improvements. This settlement is in Belmont County,
on Glen's Run, about six miles northwest of Wheeling, and as much
northeast
of St. Clairsville. Immigrants poured in from different parts,
cabins
were put up in every different direction, women, children, and goods
tumbled
into them. The tide of immigration flowed like water through a
breach
in a milldam. Everything was bustle and confusion, and all at
work
that could work. In the midst of all this, the mumps, and perhaps
one or two other diseases prevailed, and gave us a seasoning. Our
cabin had been raised, covered, part of the cracks chinked and part of
the floor laid when we moved in on Christmas day. There had not
been
a stick cut except in building the cabin.
OUR CABIN IN THE WOODS
"We had intended an inside chimney, for we
thought the chimney ought to be in the house. We had a log put
across
the whole width of the cabin for a mantel, but when the floor was in we
found it so low as not to answer, and removed it. Here was a
great
change for my mother and sister, as well as the rest, but particularly
my mother. She was raised in the most delicate manner in and near
London, and lived most of her time in affluence, and always
comfortable.
She was now in the wilderness, surrounded by wild animals; in a cabin
with
about half a floor, no door, no ceiling overhead, not even a tolerable
sign for a fireplace, the light of day and the chilling winds of night
passing between every two logs in the building, the cabin so high from
the ground that a bear, wolf, panther, or any other animal less in size
than a cow, could enter without even a squeeze. Such was our
situation
on Thursday and Thursday night, December 25, 1800, and which was
bettered
but by very slow degrees. We got the rest of the floor laid in a
few days, the chinking of the cracks went on slowly, but the daubing
could
not proceed till weather more suitable, which happened in a few days;
door-ways
were sawed out and steps made of the logs, and the back of the chimney
was raised up to the mantel, but the funnel of sticks and clay was
delayed
until spring.
"My mother had been weakly on our journey,
and at Fredericktown was more seriously ill than I ever knew her before
or since. She still lives, a monument of the Lord's mercy, and a
bright illustration of the discipline of which the human mind is
susceptible.
She has been blind about eight years, and to my recollection she never
complained of anything, but trusted all to Divine Providence. She
now, at the age of ninety-five, waits her change with patience, is
little
or no trouble to anyone; enjoys good health, a serene and sound mind,
and
the age of dotage seems never to have overtaken her; never gives
unnecessary
pain or trouble to anyone, and is pleased when by repeating verses she
learned when a girl, she can add to the happiness of the social
circle.
She has been a woman of strict economy and great industry, but never
milked
a cow, and perhaps never spun a thread in her life, and scarcely ever
cooked,
but was a great sewer and knitter. This she does now with great
facility,
saying that if she could not knit she would be very unhappy. She
is very little of her time without her knitting, except on First Days,
as she calls the Sabbath. She was always a member of the Society
of Friends. She is much delighted with hearing the Word or any
religious
books read.
OUR PIONEER FAMILY
Our family consisted of my mother, a sister
of twenty-two, my brother past twenty-one and very weakly, and myself,
in my eleventh year. Two years afterwards, Black Jenny followed
us
in company with my half-brother, Richard, and his family. She
lived
two years with us in Ohio, and died in the winter of 1803-4.
"In building our cabin it was set to front
the north and south, my brother using my father's pocket compass on the
occasion. We had no idea of living in a house that did not stand
square with the earth itself. This argued our ignorance of the
comforts
and conveniences of a pioneer life. The position of the house,
end
to the hill, necessarily elevated the lower end, and the determination
of having both a north and south door added much to the airiness of the
domicile, particularly after the green ash puncheons had shrunk so as
to
have cracks in the floor and doors from one to two inches wide.
At
both the doors we had high, unsteady, and sometimes icy steps, made by
piling up the logs cut out of the wall. We had, as the reader
will
see, a window, if it could be called a window, when, perhaps, it was
the
largest spot in the top, bottom, or sides of the cabin at which the
wind
could not enter. It was made by sawing out a log, placing sticks
across, and then, by pasting an old newspaper over the hole, and
applying
some hog's lard, we had a kind of glazing which shed a most beautiful
and
mellow light across the cabin when the sun shone on it. All other
light entered at the doors, cracks and chimney. Our cabin was
twenty-four
by eighteen. The west end was occupied by two beds, the center of
each side by a door, and here our symmetry had to stop, for on the
opposite
side of the window, made of clapboards, supported on pins driven into
the
logs, were our shelves. Upon these shelves my sister displayed,
in
ample order, a host of pewter plates, basins, and dishes, and spoons,
scoured
and bright.
PIONEER UTENSILS AND FURNITURE
"It was none of your new-fangled pewter made of
lead,
but the best London pewter, which our father himself bought of
Townsend,
the manufacturer. These were the plates upon which you could hold
your meat so as to cut it without slipping and without dulling your
knife.
But alas, the days of pewter plates and sharp dinner knives have
passed away never to return. To return to our internal
arrangements:
A ladder of five rounds occupied the corner near the window. By
this,
when we got a floor above, we could ascend. Our chimney occupied
most of the east end; pots and kettles opposite the window under the
shelves,
a gun on hooks over the north door. Four split-bottom chairs,
three
three-legged stools, and a small eight by ten looking-glass sloped from
the wall over a large towel-and-comb case. These, with a clumsy shovel
and a pair of tongs, made in Frederick, with one shank straight, as the
best manufacture of pinches and blood-blisters, completed our
furniture,
except a spinning wheel and such things as were necessary to work
with.
It was absolutely necessary to have three-legged stools, as four legs
of
anything could not all touch the floor at the same time on account of
the
unevenness of a puncheon floor.
"The completion of our cabin went on
slowly.
The season was inclement, we were weak-handed and weak-pocketed; in
fact,
laborers were not to be had. We got our chimney up breast-high as
soon as we could, and got our cabin daubed as high as the joists
outside.
It never was daubed on the inside, for my sister, who was very nice,
could
not consent to 'live right next to the mud.' My impression now is
that the window was not constructed until spring, for until the sticks
and clay were put in the chimney we could possibly have no need of a
window;
for the flood of light which always poured into the cabin from the
fireplace
would have extinguished our paper window, in the place of glass, and
rendered
it as useless as the moon at noonday. We got a floor laid
overhead
as soon as possible, perhaps in a month; but when it was laid, the
reader
will readily conceive of its imperviousness to wind or weather, when we
mention that it was laid of loose clapboards split from a red oak, the
stump of which may be seen beyond the cabin. That tree grew in
the
night, and so twisted that each board laid on two diagonally opposite
corners,
and a cat might have shaken every board on our ceiling. It may be
well to inform the unlearned reader that clapboards are such lumber as
pioneers split with a frow, and resemble barrel staves before they are
shaved, but are split longer, wider and thinner; of such our roof and
ceiling
were composed.
PIONEER LUMBER
"Puncheons were planks made by
splitting
logs to about two and a half or three inches in thickness, and hewing
them
on one or both sides with a broad-axe. Of course our floor,
doors,
tables and stools were manufactured. The eavebearers are those
end
logs which project over to receive the butting poles, against which the
lower tier of clapboards rest in forming the roof. The trapping
is
the roof timbers, composing the gable end; and the ribs, the ends of
which
appear in the drawing, being those logs upon which the clapboards
lay.
The trap logs are those of unequal length, above the eavebearers, which
form the gable ends, and upon which the ribs rest. The weight
poles
are those small logs layed on the roof, which weigh down the course of
clapboards on which they lay and against which the next course above is
placed. The knees are pieces of heart timber placed above the
butting
poles successively to prevent the weight poles from rolling off.
To many of our learned readers these explanations will appear
superfluous,
but the Pioneer may be read by persons much less enlightened on these
subjects,
and to such these explanations may be of real service.
"It was evidently a mistake to put our chimney
at the lower end of the house, for as soon as we put the funnel on in
the
spring we found that the back of our breastwork settled and was likely
to topple our chimney down. This we might have remedied by a kind
of framework had we thought of it and had tools to make it with.
So scarce were our tools that our first pair of bar posts were morticed
by pecking them on each side with a common axe and then, blowing coals
in the holes, we burned them through so as to admit of the bars.
But I do no think the framework to support the chimney was thought
of.
To prop it with a pole first suggested itself, at the foot of which was
a large stake. These remained an incumbrance in the yard for
years.
"There never was any unmixed good or unmixed
evil that fell to the lot of men in the probationary state. So
our
fireplace, being at the East end, was much more like our parlor
fireplace
in Carolina: and besides this, while the chimney was only breast high,
we should have been bacon before Candlemas had the chimney been in any
other position; but situated as it was, and the prevailing winds that
blew
inside of the house, as well as outside, being from west to east, most
of the smoke was driven off except occasionally an eddy which would
bring
smoke and flame full in our faces. One change of wind for a few
days
made our cabin almost uninhabitable. Here is presented an
advantage
of an open house. Let the wind be which way it would, the smoke
and
ashes could get out without opening doors and windows, and all that
sort
of trouble known at the present day whenever a chimney seems to draw
best
at the wrong end; besides this, a little breeze would not, as now, give
us colds.
"We have heard that the position in sleeping
makes a material difference in the soundness of it; but which (to lay
with
the head north or south) produces the sounder sleep we have
forgotten.
At any rate, my brother and I slept in the southwest corner with our
heads
to the south, and I remember well that from the time I lay down until I
had to get up and go to work only seemed about a half-minute if so
long.
My mother and sister occupied the northwest corner, but as to the
soundness
of their sleep I knew little, there being no complaints. My
brother
and I took it in the healthy open air, while my mother and sister still
had a partiality for old fashions and hung some kind of curtains on
sticks
suspended by strings over the joists. The curtains were very
likely
partly, if not wholly, of good old furniture check, which, with many
other
relics of times gone by, were treasured by the family.
PIONEER BED CLOTHES
"There are two modes of keeping warm.
One is to clothe thin, lie on straw or leaves, and let the heart and
lungs
be active to keep up the heat. The other, and at present the most
fashionable one, is to clothe very warm, lie on feather beds and let
the
heart and lungs become lazy and of little account. The former was
our plan, especially that of myself and brother, perhaps not so much
from
the choice of sound philosophy as from other circumstances. We
soon
found, however, that to make rag carpeting, such as sometimes covers
kitchen
floors now, and to sew two breadths of proper length together, was a
good
substitute for blankets, especially if there could be here and there a
rag of red flannel, even if the rest were tow linen rags. These
cadders
(for so we called them) were of great help in bed, not so much from any
warming qualities they possessed in themselves as from their great
ability
to press a sheet or blanket close, if we had any under them; and also
by
their gravitating propensities they very materially aided the
imagination
in coming to the conclusion that we were well covered. We would
look
upon our new cadder, when we were so fortunate as to get one, and
especially
if there were red stripes in it, with the same feeling of delight as a
modern belle does upon her new Brussels carpet and piano.
"I had another source of comfort in cold
weather,
which I trust I never shall forget. My good old mother (God bless
her) never went to bed in winter without seeing that the cadder was
tucked
close to the back and feet of her John; nor would she suffer him to go
out in cold weather without his jacket. This, I sometimes
thought,
was rather officious interference on her part, but like other giddy
children,
I did not know, or rather I did not care, properly to appreciate her
kindness.
If I had taken a cold or had been exposed unusually she would see that
my feet were soaked in warm water and that I had a hearty drink of warm
pennyroyal tea before going to bed. The simple remedies of some
of
the pioneer women may be pitted against the shops of the druggists for
simple and effective cures, and if their prescriptions were not as
fashionable
and costly as medicinal ones now, they sometimes did much less harm.
A PIONEER LIBRARY
"The evenings of the first winter did not pass off as pleasantly as evenings afterward. We had raised no tobacco to stem and twist, no corn to shell, no turnips to scrape; we had no tow to spin into rope-yarn, nor straw to plait for hats, and we had come so late we could get but few walnuts to crack. We had, however, the Bible, George Fox's Journal, Barkley's Apology, and a number of books, all better than much of the fashionable reading of the present day, from which, after reading, the reader finds he has gained nothing, while his understanding has been made the dupe of the writer's fancy, that while reading he had given himself up to be led in mazes of fictitious imagination and lost his taste for solid reading, as frothy luxuries destroy the appetite for wholesome food. To our stock of books were soon after added a borrowed copy of the Pilgrim's Progress, which we read twice through without stopping. The first winter our living was truly scanty and hard; but even this winter had its felicities. We had part of a barrel of flour which we had brought from Fredericktown. Besides this, we had part of a jar of hog's lard brought from old Carolina; not the tasteless stuff which now goes by that name, but pure leaf lard, taken from hogs raised on pine roots and fattened on sweet potatoes, and into which, while rendering, were immersed the boughs of the fragrant bay tree that imparted to the lard a rich flavor. Of that flour, shortened with this lard, my sister every Sunday morning, and at no other time, made short biscuit for breakfast--not these greasy gum-elastic biscuit we mostly meet with now, rolled out with a pin or cut out with a cutter; or those that are, perhaps, speckled by or puffed up with refined lye called salaeratus, but made out, one by one, in her fair hands, placed in neat juxtaposition in a skillet or spider, pricked with a fork to prevent blistering, and baked before an open fire, not half-baked and half-stewed in a cooking stove. If all the pleasures and happiness imparted to the inhabitants of Cincinnati for one week, by all the ice creams and other nicknames, could be accumulated in the mind of one individual, I conceive it would hardly equal what I felt between the time the process of making them began in the house and the process of digesting them ended in my stomach.
MY SISTER ELIZABETH'S BISCUITS
"I do not believe that bankers, brokers,
and
misers could, from the sight of gold, experience such feelings of
delight
as I felt at the sight of the first skillet full, piled on a plate by
the
fire awaiting the cooking of the second. To attempt to describe
the
felicity of eating these breakfasts is useless, when I cannot convey
even
a tolerable idea of the happiness of anticipation. Those
breakfasts
made the Sabbath doubly dear and kept us in good humor all the week,
thinking
of the past, and anticipating the future. If there is any way to
enjoy that day that exceeds all others, of a temporal nature, it is to
reserve all the good things to be enjoyed in it, and in idea to be
associated
with it, and for which we thank the Giver of all good things. The
relish of these biscuits was that of real temperance in the use of
food.
AMIDST THE FOREST PRIMEVAL
"The reader is not to suppose from anything we say that a log cabin life in the woods produces unalloyed happiness. This is not to be found in a palace in a crowded city, log cabin, nor yet in a Fourier association. Every advantage seems to bring with it a disadvantage, to give it a relish by contrast. In the ordering of a good Providence, the winter was open but windy. While the wind was of great use in driving the smoke and ashes out of our cabin, it shook terribly the timber standing almost over us. We were sometimes much and needlessly alarmed. We had never seen a dangerous looking tree near a dwelling, but here we were surrounded by tall giants of the forest, waving their boughs and uniting their brows over us, as if in defiance of our disturbing their repose and usurping their long and uncontested pre-emption rights. The beech on the left often shook his bushy head over us as if in absolute disapprobation of our settling there, threatening to crush us if we did not pack up and start. The walnut over the spring branch stood high and straight; no one could tell which way it inclined, but all concluded that if it had a preference it was in favor of quartering on our cabin. We got assistance to cut it down. The axeman doubted his ability to control its direction, by reason that he must necessarily cut it almost off before it would fall. He thought by felling the tree in the direction of the reader [a picture accompanied the article], along near the chimney, and thus favor the little lean it seemed to have, would be the means of saving the cabin. He was successful. Part of the stump still stands. These, and all other dangerous trees, were got down without other damage than many frights and frequent desertions of the premises by the family, while the trees were being cut. The ash beyond the house crossed the scarf and fell on the cabin but without damage.
FORTY-TWO YEARS LATER
"We visited the premises in August, 1842,
to take a sketch and found it, as well as the country around, amazingly
altered. In place of the towering beech on the left stands a fine
brick house, owned and occupied by Joseph Parker. Instead of a
view
confined to a few rods by a dense forest the tops of ridges and knobs
may
now be seen for miles, resembling a slanting view across a nest of
eggs.
Not one of the trees in the drawing now remain. Well do I
remember
the rude figure of a man which I cut on the beech to the left of, and
in
the distance beyond the walnut, as well as the stormy night and the
tremendous
clap of thunder that shivered the ash, seen a little more to the
left.
The black locust, also, that is seen beyond the cabin leaning to the
left
is remembered. It was considered to be a valuable tree and was
allowed
to stand after other trees were cut. Oft have I looked at its
slim
body and proportionably towering height. At length fire got
around
it, and as is the case with every hypocrite under persecution, being
rotten-hearted,
it burned down. I measured its length; it was just ninety feet,
and
to this day in estimating heights, I refer to the appearance of that
locust
and a stump of eighty feet which was also measured.
"The little hickory between the house and
spring was a mere hoop pole and we saved it. It grew very
thriftily,
and the last time I saw it the finest shelibarks graced its top; but
like
many other things, it had but a short life after a promising
youthfulness.
It, too, is gone as well as the white walnut which stood over the
spring,
and the sprout on which the spring gourd was wont to hang. But
the
fine, the clear, the gushing fountain of cold limestone water is still
there in the same shallow depression, and there its health giving
stream
will remain and run long after Miller and his theory of the end of time
happening this year will both be consigned to oblivion.
VOICES IN THE NIGHT
"The monotony of the time for several of the first years was broken and enlivened by the howl of wild beasts. The wolves howling around us seemed to moan their inability to drive us from their long and undisputed domain. The bears, panthers and deer seemingly got miffed at our approach or the partiality of the hunters, and but seldom troubled us. We did not hunt for them. The wildcat, raccoon, possum, hornet, yellow-jacket, rattlesnake, copperhead, nettle, and a host of small things which seemed in part to balance the amount of pioneer happiness, held on to their rights until driven out gradually by the united efforts of the pioneers, who, like a band of brothers, mutually aided each other in the great work. These things, as well as getting their bread, kept them too busy for lawsuits, crimes and speculations and made them happy.
OUR DAILY BREAD
"One bag of meal would make a whole family
rejoicingly
happy and thankful then, when a loaded East Indiaman will fail to do it
now, and is passed off as a common business transaction without ever
once
thinking of the Giver, so independent have we become in the short space
of forty years. Having got out of the wilderness in less time
than
the children of Israel, we seem to be even more forgetful and
unthankful
than they.
"When spring was fully come, and our little patch
of corn (three acres) put in among the beech roots, which at every step
contended with the shovel and plough for the right of soil, and held
it,
too, we enlarged our stock of conveniences. As soon as bark would
run (peel off) we could make ropes and bark boxes. These we stood
in great need of, as such things as bureaus, stands, wardrobes, or even
barrels, were not to be had. The manner of making ropes of
linnbark
was to cut the bark in strips of convenient length, and water-rot it in
the same manner as rotting flax hemp.
PIONEER ROPE AND ORNAMENTS
When this was done the inside bark would peel off
and split up so fine as to make a pretty considerably rough and
good-for-but-little
kind of a rope. Of this, however, we were very glad, and let no
ship-owner
with his grass ropes laugh at us. We made two kinds of boxes for
furniture; one kind was of hickory bark with the outside shaved
off.
This we would take off all around the tree, the size of which would
determine
the caliber of our box. In the one end we would place a flat
piece
of bark or puncheon, cut round to fit in the bark, which stood on end,
the same as when on the tree. There was little need of hooping,
as
the strength of the bark would keep that all right enough. Its
shrinkage
would make the top unsightly in a parlor nowadays, but then they were
considered
quite an addition to the furniture. A much finer article was made
of slippery elm bark, shaved smooth and with the inside out, bent round
and sewed together where the ends of the hoop or main bark lapped
over.
The length of the bark was around the box and inside out. A
bottom
was made of a piece of the same bark dried flat, and a lid like that of
a common band box, made in the same way. This was the finest
furniture
in a lady's dressing room; and then, as now with the finest furniture,
the lapped or sewed side was turned to the wall and the prettiest part
to the spectator. They were usually made oval, and while the bark
was green it was easily ornamented with drawings of birds, trees, etc.,
agreeably to the taste and skill of the fair manufacturer. As we
belonged to the Society of Friends, it may be fairly presumed that our
band-boxes were not thus ornamented. Many a shy glance would be
cast
at the new band boxes, and it is hoped that no modern belle will laugh,
because a pioneer Miss might be proud of her new band box. 'For
it
is just as easy to be proud of such things, and as much sin, too, as to
be proud of a new dressing table, glass, etc.
"On the other hand, it is quite as easy to be happy,
and easier to be properly thankful, for the small favors in the woods
than
it is now for a pampered Miss to be happy with, or thankful for, all
the
finery of her toilet. The amount of happiness received or
acknowledgement
to the Giver is by no means regulated by the appearance or cost of the
article.
"To the above store of bark ropes and bark boxes
must be added a few gums before the farmer considered himself
comfortably
fixed. It may be well to inform the unlearned reader that gums
are
hollow trees cut off, with puncheons pinned on or fitted in one end, to
answer in the place of barrels.
CHARACTER DEVELOPED BY HARDSHIP
"The privations of a Pioneer life contract
the wants of man almost to total extinction and allow him means of
charity
and benevolence. Sufferings ennoble his feelings, and the
frequent
necessity for united effort at house raisings, log rollings, corn
huskings,
etc., produced in him habitual charity, almost unknown in these days of
luxury, among the many tyrannical wants of artificial tastes and
vitiated
appetites. We have now but little time left to think of good, and
still less to appreciate it. Our system of action now seems to be
a general scramble for the spoil. From the reverend divine who
looks
upon the fatness of his salary as being the good of his profession,
down
through all the grades of speculators, swindlers and jockeys, whose
maxim
is 'their eyes is their market,' the leading principles are near akin,
if not the very same. Most. If not all, of these, if it were not
for public opinion, would cheat their dim-sighted mothers out of their
good spectacles by giving them empty frames in trading and then brag of
their skill in cheating. There are many honorable exceptions to
the
too prevalent system of grabbing.
"That system reminds us of the scramble which
went on for years among the squirrels, raccoons and groundhogs for our
corn crops, and frequently they left us little except the husks, and
our
path around the field made in our own defense.
GETTING OUT OF THE WOODS
"We settled on beech land, which took much
effort to clear. We could do no better than clear out the smaller
stuff and burn the brush, etc., around the beeches which, in spite of
the
girdling and burning we could do to them, would leaf out the first
year,
and often a little the second. The land, however, was very rich,
and would bring better corn than might be expected. We had to
tend
it principally with the hoe, that is, to chop down the nettles, the
water-weed
and the touch-me-not grass; earless lamb's quarters and Spanish needles
were reserved to pester the better prepared farmer. We cleared a
small turnip patch, which we got in about the 10th of August. We
sowed in timothy seed, which took well the next year. We had a
little
hay; besides, the tops and blades of the corn were also carefully
saved for our horses, cows, and the two sheep. The turnips were
sweet
and good, and in the fall we took care to gather walnuts and hickory
nuts
which were very abundant. These, with the turnips which we
scraped,
supplied the place of fruit. I have always been partial to
scraped
turnips, and could now beat any three dandies at scraping them.
Johnny-cake,
also, when we had meal to make it of, helped to make up our evening's
repast.
The Sunday morning biscuit had all evaporated, but the loss was
partially
supplied by the nuts and turnips. Our regular supper was mush and
milk, and by the time we had shelled our corn, stemmed tobacco, and
plaited
straw to make hats, etc., the mush and milk had seemingly decamped from
the neighborhood of our ribs.
THE PIONEER'S STAND-BY
"To relieve this difficulty my brother and I
would
bake a thin Johnny-cake, part of which we would eat, and leave the rest
till the morning. At daylight we would eat the balance as we
walked
from the house to work. The methods of eating mush and milk were
various. Some would sit around the pot, and everyone take
therefrom
himself. Some would set a table and each have his tincup of milk,
and with a pewter spoon take just as much mush from the dish or the pot
as if it was on the table, as he thought would fill his mouth or
throat;
then lowering it into the milk would take some to wash it down.
This
method kept the milk cool, and by frequent repetitions the pioneers
would
contract a faculty of correctly estimating the proper amount of
each.
Others would mix mush and milk together. Many an urchin who was
wont
to hit his little brother or sister with a spoon in quarrel around the
mush pot on the floor, in after life learned to quarrel on the floor of
Congress, or to exchange shots on what is sometimes called 'the field
of
honor.' So quick, if not magical, has been the transition of this
country.
To get grinding done was often a great difficulty by reason of the
scarcity
of mills, the freezes in winter and droughts in summer. We had
often
to manufacture meal (when we had corn) in any way we could get the corn
to pieces. We soaked and pounded it, we shaved it, we planed it,
and, at the proper season grated it.
"When one of our neighbors got a hand mill it was
thought quite an acquisition to the neighborhood; no need then of steam
doctors. We could take hand mill sweats of our own when we
pleased,
nor of homeopaths, for our stomachs needed larger doses; nor of the
professional
physicians, for white walnut bark boiled and the decoction stewed down
was the fashionable medicine used by those unfashionable ones who
chanced
to have a qualm. As for dyspepsia and the like, saw mills might
as
well be suspected of having it. In after years, when in time of
freezing
or drought, we could get grinding by waiting for our turn no more than
one day and a night at a horse-mill we thought ourselves happy.
"To save meal we often made pumpkin bread.
When meal was scarce, the pumpkin would so predominate as to render it
next to impossible to tell our bread from that article either by taste,
looks, or the amount of nutriment it contained. To rise from the
table with a good appetite is said to be healthy, and with some is said
to be fashionable. What then does it signify to be hungry for a
month
at a time when it is not only health y but fashionable? Beside
all
this, the sight of a bag of meal when it was scarce made the family
feel
more glad and thankful to Heaven than a whole boatload would at the
present
time.
"Salt was $5.00 per bushel, and we used none in
our corn bread, which we soon liked as well without it. Often has
sweat ran into my mouth, which tasted as fresh and flat as distilled
water.
What meat we had at first was fresh, and but little of that; for had we
been hunters we had no time to practice it.
LIGHT FOR WINTER EVENINGS
We had no candles, and cared but little about
them
except for summer use. In Carolina we had the real fat light
wood,
not merely pine knots, but the fat straight pine. This, from the
brilliancy of our parlor on winter evenings, might be supposed to put,
not only candles, lamps, camphine, Greenough's chemical oil, but even
gas
itself to blush. In the west we had not this, but my business was
to ramble the woods every evening for season sticks, or the bark of the
shelly hickory for light.
"'Tis true that our light was not even as good as
candles, but we got along without fretting, for we depended more upon
the
goodness of our eyes than we did upon the brilliancy of the
light.
At that day none but the aged wore glasses. My mother said she
injured
her eyes by the early use of them. Such a thing as a young dandy
of either sex peering through gold frame concaves till their eyes push
out like the lumps on calves' heads before the horns appear was not
known.
The more concaves are indulged in the more the eyes will push out, for
the shape of the eye will accommodate itself to the lens. The use
of glasses either concave or convex nine times in ten injure both eyes
and the sight, and is a species of intemperance. If you physic
for
every complaint you will soon lose your health. If you never
exercise
your muscles to fatigue they will soon become weak; so with the
eye.
Be afraid of fatiguing it, aid it with glasses so as never to put its
power
to test, and it will soon be useless without them. I am now in my
54th year and have never used a glass and never shall unless accident
or
disease should set upon my eyes. I write and read no
little.
My wife had so indulged her eyes by the use of glasses as five years
ago
to require those of 16-inch focus. My remonstrance became strong
and she consented to follow my directions. The consequence is
that
she has not used a glass for four years, although she sews, reads,
threads
her needle and often by candle light. Who would not prefer to be
a Pioneer and enjoy all his sources of happiness than to be a slave of
fashion or indolence and suffer heat, cold, and disease to serve it?
WORK FOR WINTER EVENINGS
"One of my employments in winter evenings,
after we raised flax, was the spinning of rope yarn from the coarsest
swingling
tow to make bed cords for sale. Swingling tow is a corruption of
singling tow, as swingle tree is of single tree. The manner of
spinning
rope yarn was by means of a drum, which turned on a horizontal shaft,
driven
into a hole in one of the cabin logs near the fire. The yarn was
hitched to a nail on one side of the circumference next to me. By
taking an oblique direction and keeping up a regular jerking or pulling
of the threads the drum was kept in constant motion, and thus the
twisting
and pulling out went on regularly and simultaneously until the length
of
the walk was taken up. Then by winding the yarn first on my
forearm
and from that on the drum I was ready to spin another thread. A
late
improvement of this kind of Pioneer spinning is called political wire
working,
and had I kept pace with the improvements of the age I might at present
have been a most expert political demagogue of wealth and influence.
"The unlearned reader might inquire what we
did with the finer kinds of tow. It is well enough to apprize him
that next to rope yarn in fineness was filling for trousers and aprons;
next finer, warp for the same and filling for shirts and frocks; next
finer,
of tow thread, warp for shirts and frocks, unless some of the higher
grades
of society would use flax thread. Linen shirts, especially seven
hundred, was counted the very top of the pot, and the one who wore an
eight
hundred linen shirt was counted a dandy. He was not called a
dandy,
for the word was unknown, as well as the refined which bears that
name.
Pioneers found it to their advantage to wear tow linen and eat skim
milk
and sell their flax, linen and butter.
PIONEER CLOTHING
"Frocks were a short kind of shirt worn
over
the trousers. We saved our shirts by pulling them off in warm
weather
and wearing nothing in the daytime but our hats made of straw, our
frocks
and our trousers. It will be thus perceived that these things
took
place before the days of suspenders, when every one's trousers lacked
about
two inches of reaching up to where the waistcoat reached down. It
was counted no extraordinary sight, and no matter of merriment, to see
the shirt work out over all the waistband two or three inches and hang
in a graceful festoon around the waist. Suspenders soon became a
part of the clothing, and were a real improvement in dress. Not
so
with the underfoot strap of the dandy, the upward strain of which,
together
with the ascentional power of vanity in the walking balloon, seems
nearly
to lift him from the ground.
"The girls had forms without bustles, and
rosy cheeks without paint. Those who are thin, lean, and
colorless
from being slaves to idleness or fashion are, to some extent, excusable
for endeavoring to be artificially what the pioneer girls were
naturally;
who, had they needed lacing, might have used tow strings, and, if bran
were used for bustles, might have curtailed their suppers. Those
circumstances which frequently occasioned the bran to be eaten after
the
flour was gone laced tight enough without silk cord or bone-sets, and
prevented
that state of things which sometimes makes it necessary to eat both
flour
and bran together as medicine. And requires bran or straw outside to
make
the shape respectable.
SAVING SHOE LEATHER
"Not only about the farm, but also to meeting, the younger part of families, and even men, went barefoot in summer. The young women carried their shoes and stockings, if they had them, in their hands until they got in sight of the meeting house, where, sitting on a log, they shod themselves for meeting; and at the same place, after meeting, they unshod themselves for a walk home, perhaps one or two miles. Whether shoes, stockings or even bonnets were to be had or not, meeting must be attended. Let those who cannot attend church without a new bonnet, who cannot go two or three square, because it is so cold, or so rainy, or so sunny, not laugh at the zeal of those pioneers for religion. Religion barefoot is as acceptable as religion shod, and as easily come at, too. If those barefoot girls could not knit as fine lace they could knit better stockings. If they could not cut as fine figures in dance, they could make healthier mothers and housewives; and if they could not make as fine music, they could sing lullaby to much better effect. It is to be noted that among the pioneer, all was neither goodness or happiness. It was as easy to go to church for fashion's sake, or to see and be seen, then as now; in fact, the ways of Heaven are equal, but man very unequally acts the part on earth.
EDIBLES FOR WINTER EVENINGS
"Turnips, walnuts and hickory nuts supplied the place of fruit till peaches were raised. In five or six years we sometimes went to Martin's Ferry on the Ohio to pick peaches for the owner, who had them distilled. We got a bushel of apples for each day's work in picking peaches. These were kept for particular eating, as if they had contained seeds of gold. Their extreme scarcity made them seem valuable and stand next to the short biscuit that were so valued in times gone by. Paw-paws were eaten in their season. When we got an abundance of apples they seemed to lose their flavor and relish. It is the same with everything but heaven and virtue, which never fail, but greatly increase in relish with their abundance and stand in direct contact with all sublunary good.
DOMESTIC ANIMALS
"Mrs. Leaf gave me a beautiful white, black and yellow kitten, which made the best squirrel catcher in the country. Mice and rats there were none. She was worth money and lived fifteen years. We bought a heifer in the same Fall of 1800, which made us a fine cow; she lived about as long as the cat. Pasturage was abundant in summer, being composed mostly of nettles, waist high, which made us fine greens, and thus served for both the cow and her owner, and yet, like everything else on earth, seemed to balance the account by stinging us at every turn. Even the good pasturage of this new country, considered as a pasture, had its balancing properties, for the same rich soil from which sprang nettles and pasture in such abundance brought forth also the ramps of wild garlic, which springing first were devoured by the cows. Cows could not be contained for want of fences, nor dared we neglect milking lest they might go dry; and for two or three weeks cows were milked in pails and the milk thrown out and given to the hogs. We never milked on the ground, as it seemed a pity and some said it was bad luck. We never heard of milk sickness or we might have been less disposed to fret at the ramps, and might have been thankful for being blessed with a disadvantage less frightful. Our axe handles were straight and egg-shaped. Whether the oval form and the quick bulbous ends of the present day is an improvement or not is immaterial here to inquire, but had we used the present form then I should at times have been fixed to the axe. The hand that holds this pen had, before it felt the cold of twelve winters, been so benumbed by chopping in the cold as to have the fingers set to the handle, making it necessary to slip them off at the end, which could not have been done were they of the present shape. After the fingers were off a little rubbing and stretching from the other hand would restore them, but would not dry up the blood nor heal the chaps with which they were covered. These and kindred things are well calculated to make one, by contrast, appreciate the blessings of leisure and ease until they become too common, when we lose our relish of them, and the gratitude we ought to feel for time even to think.
RICHARD WILLIAMS' SCHOOL
"On Saturday, July 31st, 1802, my brother
Richard
arrived at our cabin. He had been a sea captain for many years,
and
at the age of 32 abandoned his seafaring life. I was exactly 12
years
old to an hour when he arrived. He had left his family at or near
Wheeling. His arrival was greeted as a great acquisition to the
settlement,
as he had a good education. He was born under auspicious
circumstances.
The neighbors soon had him a cabin up near the meeting house and a
school
opened. I had never been sent to school. He put me in three
syllables in Dilworth's spelling book. I think the first lesson
commenced
with the word 'abandon,' and I abandoned that lesson, and that book,
for
I swallowed the whole of it very soon. I never did continue my
studies
to a single lesson at school, but must know all the book
contained.
The teachers could keep me back in recitation, but not in
knowing.
I soon found that the head of the class was my place by pre-emption.
"After the quarter was out, sugar making,
land clearing, corn planting, etc., put an end to my regular schooling,
but not to my progress. Within the hour allowed for rest at noon
I used to run a mile over the deepest and steepest kind of a
hollow
to spell at school. Having missed the evening spellings, I always
began foot, but that did not annoy me, nor prevent me from ending head,
when the mile must again be run over dinner and I to my work. One
spring, while I was hewing the side of a stump to set a flax brake, I
was
fortunate enough to split the middle toe of my right foot.
Although
a stiff joint, a large, crooked toe and a bad nail was the consequence,
I always counted myself fortunate under the accident, for it gave me a
chance of going to school a quarter. It was sore two months and a
half, most of which time I never touched the forepart of my foot to the
ground but walked to the school, when the bare mention that my foot
would
be no worse hurt to stay at home would insult me. It was not
altogether,
and perhaps not half, the love of study that made me love school.
There was in my composition a good portion of the love of play and
frolic.
Subsequently a strained wrist and strained ankle, as well as a disease
of one of my heels, which gave me great pain for four months, baffled
the
skill of Doctor Hamilton of Mount Pleasant, were all, with other wounds
and bruises, counted as blessings because they gave me better
opportunities
for studies.
JOHN MEETS A GAY DECEIVER
"Going home from school one evening, I took
a different route. Upon the hillside above me I saw a most
beautiful
white and black lively animal with a fine bush. I thought surely
no one had ever before seen so fine a frisk. Agreeably to a
prevailing
trait in my youthful character, which determined me never to leave any
mystery in a book or on land without knowing something more about it, I
took two clubs in my hand and went to reconnoiter his
whereabouts.
On approaching I perceived by the smell that I heard of the animal
before,
but as I never backed out because difficulties were presented, the
approach
was continued unperceived until within a few paces of him. He
then
discovered me and ran very impertinently towards me and looking me
fully
in the face, seemed to ask what I wanted. Keeping my ground, he
made
for a retreat, when the temptation to throw became too strong.
The
last I saw of him was just as the club was about to hit him, when he,
by
a way peculiarly his own, administered a perfume to my body not so
agreeable
as Bergamot, but certainly preferable to the breath of a confirmed sop
in the use of tobacco or alcoholic spirits. He also at one and
the
same operation administered eye water to both eyes. It was for a
few minutes powerful in effect, if not lasting in efficacy. In
this
respect, however, it was not behind most of the nostrums sold by less
skillful
quacks, and in one respect at least very much like many of them, I
pocketed
the joke and went home laughing about it. It was a lesson.
Had I made the best use of it and taken warning from it never again to
be so much deceived by appearances, it might have saved me some
trouble;
but I thought more of Blair's maxim that it was better to be imposed
upon
than to foster a suspicious disposition, and have let others impose
upon
me by serious appearances very frequently since. I was not in
quite
as good a humor about it as might be supposed from the face I put on,
for
I silently vowed vengeance on the next of the race I met with.
The
vow was faithfully redeemed about five years afterwards without my
being
the least incommoded. By this time I was 19, and knew much better
how to conduct an affair on the field of honor.
"My faithful and industrious sister did much
for us as she did afterwards for her own family by weaving. In
the
Spring of 1804 she and also my brother got married, the one to Sarah
Arnold,
and the other to Joseph Garretson, whose autograph our readers have
seen.
The circumstances of our family very much changed by these
movements.
The infants, instead of webs and nursing, exchanged for weaving.
Change and contrast are both necessary to happiness, and novelty has
most
frequently a charm independent of things changed.
THE FOLLY OF YOUTH
"On October 24th, 1804, my brother and I
went
out to the Friends settlement to a corn husking. As was common,
the
heap was divided. We were chosen on different sides. They
had
peach brandy, and handed it around freely. I thought that to be a
man I must drink when men drank, and I got most comfortably
drunk.
The last of the husking I remembered was throwing corn in the
husk.
Total abstinence from all remembrance overtook me until they let me
fall
in carrying me to the house. Again I relapsed into total
forgetfulness
until three o'clock, when I awoke with the chimney at the wrong end of
the house, my brain turned topsy turvy, and my feelings otherwise much
worse than when I took the quack medicine above described. My
brother
had gone home. I followed him at daylight and joined him at
work.
I expected surely that friends would disown me and was afraid to go to
meeting or see an overseer for months. I marked the day in the
almanac
and determined never to be so beastly again, which resolution has not
yet
been broken.
"About the same time, like other boys of that
age, I wanted to be a man or as near like one as possible, so I tried
to
chew tobacco. This made me most uncommonly sick. When I got
over that spree I determined to be a man without it or not at
all.
To use neither spirits or tobacco is sometimes very uncomfortable, for
a person cannot always keep clear of the breath and stench of those who
are continued in the use of one or both. In such situation I have
been nauseously sick and ready to say:
Oh wad some power the giftie gie us
To smell ourselves as others smell us;
It wad from sie habits frae us
And make us men.
SCHOOLING OBTAINED UNDER DIFFICULTIES
"I went to several teachers, the last of
which
was the present venerable citizen of Dayton, Aquillia M. Bolton.
After going to school in all thirteen months and eighteen days - three
months of which time was to him - I graduated, not by receiving
parchment
in form, but by again taking upon me my usual occupation of
farming.
While I was going to his school I walked near two miles, morning and
evening,
and chopped wood and fed cattle for my boarding. I often thought
that if I only had the opportunities of some boys, how happy I would
be.
I would then check such a rising complaint by thinking that had I their
chances ten to one I would be just as idle as they.
"Previous to this last quarter I signified
to a teacher a wish to learn surveying. He loaned me the books
and
I gathered some of father's small instruments. We had a large
crop
in, but I knew I could find time. Surveying was all wrought out
that
summer and, in the old fashion, written down. In my book I made
this
memorandum: 'I have in the last three days calculated, plotted and
written
down 14 pages of Gibson's Surveying, besides plowing 10 acres of
corn.'
I counted that good work. When I entered Bolton's school I was
either
well versed in surveying and its kindred mathematics, or else he said
what
he did not think, or thought what he did not know.
"In my 22nd year I took up school near
Barnesville,
where the bright blue eyes of one of my pupils, Sarah Patterson by name
(the same eyes which don't wear glasses now), together with her rosy
cheeks,
seemed to monopolize in themselves all that was good, bright or pretty
in Euclid, Ferguson, Newton, Bacon, Martin, and a host of other authors
that were dear to me. The purpose of my life seemed to be
changed.
Here let me drop a caution to the fair lasses, not to let their eyes
shine
too sparkingly around, for they know not what harm they might do.
How many good scholars in prospect they might spoil, and how much the
course
of life might be changed by them?
"In removing to Fredericktown before I was
10, somewhere near Merritstown, Fayette County, I saw a most beautiful
valley of meadow. This impression made me determine in after life
to live in Pennsylvania, and was the moving cause of my living in that
state twelve years.
EXPERIENCE AS A SURVEYOR
"In 1824 I entered Shriver's Brigade as
engineer
under the general government in the examinations of the Chesapeake and
Ohio Canal. J. Knight and I were the first two who commenced that
work, and here it might be said I was again in the woods and again a
pioneer.
Two campaigns were spent in those examinations, until the country from
the very head of the Youhagany to Pittsburg, became familiar.
Those
examinations convinced me that a canal from Cumberland to the
Youghagany
never could be constructed, but a railroad throughout the middle
section
to supply its place could - an opinion I have yet seen no cause to
change.
At that time it was unpopular to mention railroads in any degree of
connections
with canals. General Simon Bernard was chief engineer of our
department,
a man truly distinguished for his industry, as he was for excellent
qualities.
"In 1826 I became the assistant of C. W.
Wever,
Esq., in the construction of the National road in Ohio, east of
Zanesville.
Here it was my fortune again to be a pioneer, for there were then no
McAdamized
roads in the West, and none in the United States except twelve miles of
about half an experiment in Maryland. It was my business to
superintend
the gradation and McAdamizing for the United States until 1829, when I
commenced the Maysville turnpike, which I superintended the whole six
years
of its construction. That road, together with the engineering of
divers roads in Kentucky and several diverging from this city,
Cincinnati,
and some other roads in this state, will long remain as marks of 17
years'
labor, and will be looked upon as starting points from which it may be
seen whether the science of road making has advanced or retrograded.
A QUIVER FULL
"Ten fine children in times past sat around
my table. Other kinds of wealth I never was an adept at either
collecting
or keeping together. The lack of such a trait of character I
shall
not regret until it is seen that money bestows merit, or that the value
of the man is in direct proportion to the weight of his purse.
Having
seen some men do more good with one dollar than others with their
thousands,
the conclusion has been forced upon me that riches are more frequently
detriments than blessings. This is, however, not the fault of the
property, but of those who possess it.
"Thus, kind reader, you will see that we have
in this article endeavored to connect the past with the present, not
only
by the direct line of survey, but by frequent offsets from the main
line
as we proceeded. All we have said was thought either to
belong
to the history of the country, past or present, or to bear materially
upon
it until the time we again assumed the task of pioneer in publication
by
starting the first purely historical periodical that was ever
attempted.
JOHN SHOEBRIDGE WILLIAMS,
Of Cincinnati, Ohio, 1843."