THIS distinguished philanthropist and Abolitionist ended his days near
the borders of Putnam County, and was buried within its limits, on Clear
Creek, his remains being entombed by his family and friends of the Quaker
fraternity of Magnolia. He achieved a glorious reputation as the "father of
the party of freedom," and it is fit that some account of his life and
labors should be given in this work.
In an autobiography, prepared
by himself and published shortly after his death, he states that he was born
on the fourth day of the first month (January), 1789, at Handwich, Essex
County, N. J. His mother died when he was only five years old, and he was
her only child. He had but very limited means and opportunities of
schooling, but managed to learn to read and write when eight years of age,
and began the study of arithmetic at eighteen. His physical frame being
delicate, he was sent to travel for his health a year later, and after a
time arrived at Wheeling, West Virginia, where he served four years at the
trade of a saddler.
It was while here that he was made acquainted
with the enormities of the trade in human flesh; it was here he saw the
barbarities of slavery. "It was here," he wrote, "that I saw the traffickers
in human souls and bodies pass by with their iron-chained chattels. My heart
was deeply grieved at the gross abomination; I heard the wail of the
captive; I felt the pangs of their distress, and the iron entered my soul."
It was here he became a firm, determined and thorough Abolitionist, and
resolved to devote his life to the cause of freeing the negro.
On
leaving Wheeling he went to Mount Pleasant, Ohio, where he became acquainted
with William Lewis and his sisters, one of whom eventually became Benjamin
Lundy's wife.
He started business for himself at St. Clairsville,
Virginia, and in four years had earned three thousand dollars worth of
property. Here, while industriously pursuing his usual business, he was not
idle in the great cause which lay so close to his heart, and in 1815,
through his active efforts, Union Humane Societies were formed.
About that time Charles Osborne started a newspaper at Mount Pleasant,
called the Philanthropist, and soon after Lundy took a position upon it as
assistant editor. He was invited to become joint owner of that paper with
Osborn, but having a stock of goods on hand to dispose of, and the best
market being in the far West, he packed up his wares, put them in a boat,
and floated down the Ohio, the three apprentices he had with him working at
their trade, while he steered the boat. Arriving in the Mississippi River,
they rowed up that stream to St. Louis. While in that city, in 1819, the
famous Missouri Compromise question was before the people that of admitting
Missouri as a slave State. On this question he took an active part, in the
negative, of course, writing articles for such of the few newspapers as
would publish them. Congress having decided against his views, he left, not
discouraged, but determined to watch, labor and wait. In the meantime he had
lost several thousand dollars, his speculation proving to be a bad one, and
he returned on foot to his old home at St. Clairsville, a distance of seven
hundred miles!
During his absence Osborne had sold the newspaper on
which he had previously been employed, and the new publishers had decidedly
lowered its standard, so Lundy determined to start a paper of his own. A
newspaper in which he had been promised an interest, at Mount Pleasant, had
been removed to Jonesboro, Tennessee, leaving the field at Mount Pleasant
open to him. Accordingly he removed there, and in January, 1821, he
commenced the publication of The Genius of Universal Emancipation. Not then
having a press of his own, he was compelled to hire his presswork done at
Steubenville, Ohio, a distance of twenty miles, to which place he went to
and fro on foot, carrying his printed papers on his back.
After
having issued eight monthly numbers of the Genius, the owner of the former
paper which had been removed from Mount Pleasant to Jonesboro, Tennessee,
died at the latter place, and his paper ceased to be published. His friends
and the friends of the cause urged him to go to that place and, if possible,
obtain possession of the press and fixtures of the printing office. To this
he assented, and at once started to Tennessee, a distance of eight hundred
miles, about one-half of which distance he accomplished on foot, and the
remainder by boat.
He rented the printing office at Jonesboro, and
at once went to work to learn the practical or mechanical part of the
business of running a newspaper, and in a brief time issued his paper from
his new location in a monthly and weekly form, retaining for it the old but
expressive name. While thus engaged, in the very heart of the slave-holding
region, he was threatened with all sorts of violence. In the first place his
coming there was considered an insult to the slaveocracy, and in the next,
his merciless denunciation of their peculiar institution of slavery was
unbearable. On one occasion two ruffians came a distance of thirty miles to
demand the retraction of an article which had been published in the Genius.
They invited Lundy into a private room, shut and locked the door, and
flourishing their knives and pistols, undertook to enforce their insolent
demand. But they were mistaken in the grit and firmness of their man. High
words resulted, which attracted the attention of the owner of the house, who
came to the assistance of the spunky editor.
Finding his business
prosperous, he sent for his family, who joined him there, and there he lived
for three years, doing yeoman service, constantly provoking the wrath of his
enemies, repeatedly subjected to personal abuse of the vilest character,
both in his office and upon the streets, and sometimes personal attacks; yet
bravely fighting for his principles, his rights of speech and the freedom of
the press, continually pouring red hot shot into the foe.
He was the
first delegate who ever attended an abolition convention from any portion of
the country as far south as Tennessee. He made a trip on horseback, at his
own expense, a distance of six hundred miles, to attend a meeting of the
enemies of slavery at Philadelphia, in 1832.
The Genius of Universal
Emancipation had by this time obtained an extensive circulation and a wide
fame all over the country, and as it was the only anti-slavery newspaper in
the United States at that time, he concluded to transfer the publication of
it to one of the Atlantic cities, hoping thereby to greatly increase its
circulation and widen its influence.
In pursuance of this plan he
shouldered his knapsack and set out on foot for Baltimore, in the summer of
1824, on his way delivering his first public lecture on the subject of
Slavery, at Deep Creek, North Carolina. So well were the people pleased with
this, the first lecture they had ever heard on this topic (many of the
community happening to be Quakers), that they appointed a second meeting,
where he again spoke, crowning his efforts there by the formation of an
anti-slavery society.
At another place he went to a house raising
and lectured to the persons there assembled, and at another place managed to
get an audience at a militia muster, the captain of the day being very
liberal in his views on the subject of slavery, and some of his hearers
belonging to the Society of Friends. Here too an anti-slavery society was
formed, the militia captain being chosen its first president.
During
this trip through North Carolina he organized no fewer than twelve or
fourteen anti-slavery societies.
Leaving North Carolina, he passed
through Virginia, in which State he formed several anti-slavery societies
also.
Mr. Lundy reached Baltimore in due time, and promptly began
preparations for issuing his paper there, and in October, 1824, the first
number of the Genius was issued in that city. He brought his family on from
Tennessee very soon after.
During his journey to Baltimore he
converted a slave-holder, who gave up to Lundy eleven slaves, on condition
that he would take them to where they could enjoy equal rights, and he had
them sent to Hayti.
In 1825 he went to that island to look after his
proteges, and while there he received the sad intelligence of the death of
his wife. On his return to the United States he resumed his work of pushing
forward the circulation of his paper, meeting with considerable success.
In 1828 he journeyed through the Middle and Eastern States to extend the
circulation of his newspaper, lecture, and make acquaintances. It was during
this expedition he met Arthur Tappan, of New York, and William Lloyd
Garrison, of Boston, neither of whom had at that time acquired any of the
fame which afterward became so world-wide, nor in fact had they even then
become publicly known at their own homes as abolitionists. After many
endeavors he succeeded in getting up a meeting in Boston, where the first
anti-slavery society was formed.
He also lectured on the
anti-slavery question at Hartford, New Haven, Newport, Providence,
Nantucket, Portland, and many other towns, with varying success.
In
November, 1828, he visited New England a second time, and requested William
Lloyd Garrison to assist him on the Genius; but that gentleman was then
conducting an anti-slavery paper of his own, in Vermont.
Mr. Lundy's
mode of conducting the Genius provoked the deadly ire of a man named Austin
Woolfolk, a Baltimore slave trader, who in 1829 assaulted and nearly killed
him. The judge before whom the case was tried, the assailant having been
arrested, said from the bench that "Lundy got no more than he deserved," and
sent a copy of his paper before the grand jury, pointing out to them several
passages which he said were libelous; but that body failed to find a bill
against him.
In 1829 he went to Hayti a second time, with twelve
slaves given to him this time by a slave-holder in Maryland, under
circumstances similar to those herein before related.
After his
return he was joined by Win. Lloyd Garrison in the editorship of the Genius,
and Mr. Lundy made another tour, during which Mr. Garrison, less guarded
than his chief, or failing to enjoy that warm personal friendship which it
was the peculiar good fortune of Lundy to secure everywhere he went, was
arrested and thrown into jail because of his outspoken denunciations of
slavery, but was finally released on payment of a fine, when he left the
city. The paper then fell to Lundy's exclusive management, and not being
able to secure a competent and suitable assistant, it was changed from a
weekly to a monthly publication. The hatred which had achieved a victory
over Garrison was started in pursuit of Lundy, and half a dozen indictments
were procured against him in the courts, and he too was imprisoned. On being
released, he abandoned Baltimore and removed to Washington City.
In
1830 he traveled extensively in Canada, and awakened the antislavery
sentiment there with a view to secure an asylum in that country for fugitive
slaves from the United States. He also went to Texas to see what could be
done toward establishing a grand free labor project there, and afterward to
Mexico for the same purpose, and until 1836 he spent nearly his whole time
in making many arduous journeys and fruitless efforts to transfer his colony
of free negroes in Hayti to Texas or Mexico.
During the absence of
Lundy in the South-west and in the land of the Montezumas, the Genius was
conducted by different persons. Under the management of Evan Lewis, in
January, 1834, its place of publication was removed to Philadelphia, at
which place Mr. Lewis died in the same year. It was then taken charge of by
Rev. Dr. Atlee, and under his management it was suspended for want of
adequate support. At that time Mr. Lundy had been absent about three years,
occasionally writing letters and communications for it, but otherwise unable
to furnish that fire, vim and spirit which had for so many years
characterized that staunch champion of human rights. It died more for the
lack of the brains and energy of its founder than anything else.
In
November, 1835, Mr. Lundy returned from Mexico, and issued one number of the
Genius, brim full of its old time fire and fury against slavery, and in
August of the following year began the issue of another weekly anti-slavery
newspaper at Philadelphia, called The National Enquirer, and in the same
month re-commenced the publication of the Genius.
January 31, 1837,
a large and enthusiastic convention of the people was held at Harrisburg,
Pa., which formed a State society. Among other proceedings it adopted a
resolution complimenting the veteran agitator, as follows:
WHEREAS,
By the self-denying zeal and untiring efforts of Benjamin Lundy, he
sustained the "Genius of Universal Emancipation" for eight years of general
apathy on the subject of slavery, when no pecuniary embarrassment, no
privations of society, no cold neglect or indifference to his warning voice
could dissuade him from his fixed principles of duty, he finally drew and
fixed the attention of many who were abused by it throughout the land;
therefore,
Resolved, That Benjamin Lundy receive the thanks of this
Convention.
On the 9th of May, 1838, Lundy retired from the charge
of the Enquirer, and was succeeded by the Quaker poet, John G. Whittier.
The Abolitionists of Philadelphia had built and dedicated to the cause
of freedom a splendid public hall, which cost $30,000. On the night of the
17th of May, 1838, a mob broke into and fired the building, which was burnt
down. In it were all Lundy's private papers, together with all his personal
effects, which had been stored in a room of the hall, awaiting his journey
to the West. He wrote concerning the event: "My papers, books, clothes -
everything of value, except my journal in Mexico, are all - all gone, a
total sacrifice on the altar of Universal Emancipation. They have not yet
got my conscience, - they have not taken my heart, and until they rob me of
these they cannot prevent me from pleading the cause of the suffering slave.
"The tyrant (may even) hold the body bound, But knows not what a
range the spirit takes.
"I am not disheartened, though everything of
earthly value (in the shape of property) is lost. Let us persevere in the
cause. We shall assuredly triumph yet"
In July, 1838, Lundy left
Philadelphia for Putnam County, Ill., to which place his children removed.
On his way he formed the acquaintance of a young woman of Pennsylvania, a
member of the Society of Friends, with whom he contracted a matrimonial
engagement. While on this journey, he wrote to his friends that his health
was excellent, and that he felt happy in being clear of the crowded city.
Reaching his destination, which was the Quaker settlement near Magnolia, on
September 19, he wrote: "l am here at last among my children. This is
emphatically one of the best and most beautiful countries that I have ever
seen." He afterward on the same day attended an anti-slavery convention at
Hennepin, composed of intelligent men and women. It passed a unanimous
resolution to encourage the circulation of the Genius, and a large number of
subscriptions were immediately obtained.
Having been disappointed in
several attempts to purchase a press and outfit at Hennepin, where he
desired to settle, he received a proposition from some of the inhabitants of
Lowell, LaSalle County, to establish his paper there, and accepting their
proposition, he went there in the winter of 1838-9, accompanied by his son
Charles, his other children following in the spring.
In a letter
dated February 3, 1839, he says: "I have purchased a printing office, and
established it at a new town called Lowell; but we have no post office yet,
and the G. U. E. will be published a while at Hennepin. I have found great
difficulty in getting my printing done, but am now prepared to go on
regularly as soon as I receive paper, for which I have sent to St. Louis."
Lundy built a house and printing office at Lowell, and in the spring
purchased a tract of land about four miles distant. His paper was
irregularly printed for want of funds and help, he having, for a portion of
the time, no other assistants than his two sons, one of whom attended to the
farm. Early in August he was attacked by a fever of a kind then prevalent in
that region, but rallied, and tried to work a few days, when he was
compelled to seek his bed again, though not thought to be dangerously
affected. On the morning of the 21st he was again in his office, and wrote a
note to one of his children, stating that he had been quite unwell, but was
now better. In the afternoon of the same day he was seized with severe
pains, and retired to the house of his friend, Wm. Seeley. The next day he
continued to grow worse, and suffered much pain until ten o'clock in the
evening, when he grew easier and more comfortable. Being told by a physician
that his end was probably approaching, he replied that he "felt much better
he felt as if he were in paradise." At 11 o'clock on the evening of the 21st
of February, 1839, Benjamin Lundy passed peacefully away, without a groan or
a struggle. His remains, attended by a large concourse of relatives and
friends, were removed to the house of his son-in-law, Isaac Griffith, near
Magnolia, whence, on the following day they were removed, and interred in
the Friends burying ground on Clear Creek.
Thus terminated the
earthly career of one of the most self-sacrificing and indefatigable
reformers this country has ever produced. Having resolved, twenty-three
years before his decease, to devote his life and energies to the relief of
the suffering slave and the freedom of the colored people from bondage, he
nobly and heroically kept that pledge, and so far as was in his power,
redeemed this promise, persevering to the end, undiscouraged by
difficulties, not dismayed by obstacles nor appalled at the magnitude of the
herculean task before him.
In stature he was rather under the
average size, of slender form and slightly built. His complexion was of the
nervous - sanguine order, with a cheerful disposition; always polite and
agreeable in conversation; never gloomy or despondent. He was afflicted with
a difficulty of hearing from an early age, a circumstance which was of great
inconvenience and disadvantage to him. He was positive but courteous in
defending his opinions, and never neglected any opportunity to assert and
maintain his views.
The boys of the present day who think they discount their ancestors in
the charivari business are mistaken. When those old fellows undertook a
thing of the kind it was carried through regardless of time or consequences.
We knew an incident of the kind in early times which was kept up
continuously every night for three weeks, because the groom would not come
down with the whisky. It finally became such a nuisance to the occupants of
a hotel near by that Wm. S. Hamilton, a Colonel in the Black Hawk war, and
the man who surveyed Peoria, treated the crowd, and then presented his bill
for the same to the groom. He refused to pay and was sued, in which the
Colonel got beaten.
Two noted charivaris are mentioned as having
occurred at Magnolia, which were conducted by the "boys," and as several of
those who participated are yet living, sedate and gray-haired old men, the
mention of them here is relevant.
There was a wedding in the
neighborhood, and after the festivities usual on such occasions, the lights
in the house where the newly married couple were, were extinguished and all
was quietness and repose. But this was not to be of long continuance. John
Dent, Joseph Hall and Thomas Patterson, as leaders, with a number of other
young fellows, all bent on having lots of fun, who had concluded to give the
young couple a charivari and had laid their plans accordingly, having kept
their movements from the knowledge of all who were not to be concerned with
them, assembled at the quiet hour of midnight and started for a grocery kept
by a man known as "old Patterson." The keeper of this establishment was
aware of what was going on, and when the crowd came to his place they were
supplied with a stimulus which inflamed and incited them to excesses which
it is probable they otherwise would not have been guilty of. Being thus
prepared the party started for the house where the happy and unsuspecting
couple reposed, and as they approached they broke forth with a hullabaloo
and racket that was simply infernal. Beating on tin pans, blowing horns,
ringing bells, the barking and howling of dogs, lowing and bleating of
cattle, and snorting and clattering of horses were all exceeded by the
shouting, hurrahing, screeching, screaming and every other possible noise
which could be made by half-crazy human beings.
This pandemonium was
kept up around the house unceasingly. No persuasion on the part of the groom
or the gentleman at whose house he was availed anything. They were impelled
by a spirit of malicious mischief to commit an outrage upon decency, and
they gave full vent to it. From time to time detachments from the party
would return to old Patterson's, fill up anew with whisky, and return to
continue their disagreeable proceedings, and it was not until after daylight
the next morning that they became exhausted and retired to their homes.
The noises and uproar they made caused a stampede among such cattle,
horses and swine as could get out of their enclosures. About ten horses and
the same number of cattle belonging to Captain Hawes ran off toward the
timber, and it was three or four days afterward before their owner found
them. They had strayed more than fifteen miles from home. An individual
known as old Billy R____, who had proposed taking a hand in the fun, became
so intoxicated at Patterson's groggery that he was unable to go with the
"boys," and brought himself to anchor upon a stump a fourth of a mile from
the scene of action, and contributed his quota of music by continually
howling and ringing a cow bell. The maliciousness of some of the
participants led them to shave the hair from the tail of the groom's horse,
and to take a wheel from his buggy and hide it some distance away among the
bushes. The wheel was not forthcoming until a week afterward, and then it
required the payment of a fee of five dollars to secure it. During the melee
John Dent opened the window of the room occupied by the newly married
couple, and in true and faultless Indian style gave a prolonged war-whoop.
The ringleaders of this disgraceful affair were arrested on a charge
of disturbing the peace, and taken before a magistrate for trial. The
offenders employed to defend them a young lawyer who, for the sum of twenty
dollars cash to him in hand paid, promised to secure their discharge. This
young man was T. L. Dickey, now one of the Justices of the Supreme Court of
Illinois.
The ill-feeling caused by the affair slowly subsided, and
in a few months' time all the parties were on friendly terms again.
It was not long before John Dent discovered his affinity, and the subject of
his approaching marriage was the talk of the whole neighborhood. Captain
Hawes, who had felt personally offended at the previous affair, determined
that Dent, who was the foremost spirit and instigator of it, and who had
given that blood-curdling war-whoop, should himself enjoy the pleasure of a
charivari on his wedding night. He organized a party of about fifty boys and
men, saw that they were properly equipped with a suitable assortment of
musical instruments, and at midnight began an entertainment and concert the
variety and vehemence of which threw the previous affair entirely in the
shade. When daylight came the serenaders retired, but to return again the
next night, and again the next, and John Dent was the unwilling recipient of
the three times repeated compliments of Captain Hawes and his band of
musicians. During the excitement Dent thought to appease the mob by opening
the door and trying to argue with them upon the impropriety and
ridiculousness of their conduct, but when he did so in a moment the house
was filled with people, and it was not until he prepared to burn gunpowder
that they left his apartments.
Dent, while not fancying the
entertainment prepared for him by his neighbors, would not have seriously
objected to their performances if they had been brought to a final close the
first night; but he well knew that the continuance of them through three
consecutive nights was the work of Hawes, and done in spiteful retaliation
for what he had himself done, and he became so vexed with his old and
oft-tried friend that he would not speak to him for several months. But
finally these asperities became softened, and on a certain occasion, meeting
with mutual friends, they shook hands and became as good friends and as
warmly attached as ever.
In 1832 a Frenchman stole a squaw from some friendly Indians near
Hennepin. Some time after a couple of Indians of the band to which she
belonged came past the Frenchman's cabin, and recognizing the squaw, seized
her and forcibly conveyed her home. The Frenchman on returning followed the
party until discovering Indian signs, he procured the aid of a number of
white men, and went in pursuit. He was dangerously valiant, and begged as a
personal favor that the crowd would let him "chaw up the Indians" who stole
his wife as soon as caught.
On their way the party met an Indian on
a pony at a creek. The Indian was apparently peaceably inclined, so they
rode over in "Indian file," the last man to cross being the Frenchman. The
Indian waited until he was about to enter the creek, and then seized him,
exclaiming, "Bad white man! steal Indian's squaw - eh? and come back to
steal she again - not much - eh!" And he pitched into the Frenchman and gave
him a good "licking." The valorous gentleman from Paris covered his face
with his hands and shouted, "Sacaree! Ouch! Ze blodee Ingeon! By gar, he too
mooch gouge moine eye-ouchee ! Mur-r-r-dar!" But never a blow did he strike,
while his white companions looked on from across the creek in a high state
of merriment.
When the Indian had satisfied himself, he rode away,
leaving the terrified and well-pounded woman-stealer in a sad state. As soon
as the Indian had gone the Frenchman waxed blood-thirsty again.
At
Hartzell’s trading house they met a large number of Indians, in anything but
a friendly mood. Among the white men was a young man named Cummins, a model
of physical strength and courage. He, by common consent, acted as spokesman
for the party. The Indians accused him of having come after the squaw, while
Cummins denied it. The Indian who seemed to lead the party was ugly, and
only wanted a pretext to begin a row. He challenged Cummins to wrestle,
which, however, meant to fight. Cummins had two pistols, which he kept
concealed, and where his antagonist could not reach them. Mr. Reed, one of
the white men, stood over the two as they scuffled, determined to see fair
play. The match was nearly even. The Indian was the superior in strength,
but Cummins excelled in agility, and was something of a scientific wrestler.
It was thought if the Indian had got Cummins under, he would have knifed
him; but Cummins repeatedly threw his adversary, so finally the Indian
feeling convinced of Cummings' superiority, was glad to call it a tie. The
boys got the Indians mellow on whisky, and gladly stole away.
The Indians were numerous when the prairie was first settled by the
whites. They lived on the bottoms near the Illinois River, in two camps
about equi-distant from Strawn's settlement. The lower camps were occupied
by two or three hundred Kickapoos, while the other, three miles above,
consisted of a fragment of Shaubena's Pottawatomie Indians. Both tribes were
on the most friendly terms with the settlers, and each race found a positive
advantage in trading with the other. The Indians brought the white people
meat and honey in exchange for corn, flour and tobacco. They would beg for
corn out of the crib in winter, and standing in the snow, eat it raw, like
squirrels. They never entered a house where there was a fire, except for a
few moments, and when near the heat made signs as if suffocated by it.
Shaubena's camp of Indians was small - from twenty-five to one hundred
people. They were a roving set, hunting at Bureau, Ottawa, or elsewhere, and
never many at a time in camp, while Shick-shack's tribe were more inclined
to remain at home. Shaubena's Indians were given to drinking whiskey, while
the others rarely touched it.
The Indian braves scorned to do manual
labor. They would catch fish and leave them in their canoes to rot in the
sun if the squaws were not near to carry them to the wigwams and dress them.
They would kill deer and hang them up in the woods, come to the camp, and
send the squaws and ponies long distances to find them and bring home the
meat, half putrid sometimes before it was skinned and ready for use! They
could, if absolutely necessary, very expeditiously skin a deer, but they
looked upon all labor as degrading, and made the squaws do the drudgery.
Shick-Shack, the Indian, and his band lived at the mouth of Clear Creek.
He was a large, active and intelligent old man, respected by the whites and
venerated by his tribe. He was honest and punctual in all his dealings, and
withal possessed considerable ability. He inclined readily toward the ways
of civilized life, and probably was the first Indian in this region to avail
himself of the Yankee breaking plow to open up the soil for cultivation. He
raised good crops of corn, and had a sensible idea of the relative value of
the different articles of barter. He cared little for trinkets and gew-gaws,
and frequently reproved his men for buying bits of colored glass or brass
ornaments.
He was for peace, when Black Hawk plunged the country
into war. Foreseeing that the natural and lasting animosities which it had
kindled between the two races would prevent them from dwelling together, he
deemed it better they should separate; therefore, bowing to the inevitable
and unalterable decree of fate, went westward with his tribe in 1833, after
which no Indians, or at least but a few stragglers were ever seen on this
side of the Mississippi.
When Captain Hawes moved to Magnolia, he brought with him from Sangamon
County a few hogs, as up to that date (1826) there were none in the country.
He permitted his pigs to run at large, and the woods being filled with
"mast," the swine fattened and increased, and he seemed to have lost all
right of property in them. The Indians lived upon them, and new settlers
shot them whenever they wanted pork. They became wild, but never dangerous.
One fall, in about 1832, Captain Hawes concluded to assert ownership
over these wandering porkers, and obtaining an Indian guide, started on a
hunt. After traveling all day they became pretty hungry, and shot a wild
turkey, which was dressed, roasted and eaten. They slept upon the ground
under a tree. The Indian before lying down drew forth his butcher knife and
plunged it into the soil up to the hilt, the Indian sign of peace. The
Captain took the other side, taking care to leave a respectable space
between its sharp edge and his ribs!
A desire to wed is a pardonable ambition in Eve's daughters the world
over, and Jeremiah Strawn states a well-remembered incident that befel him.
Once when on his way from Ohio, he stopped over night at a log house
on the Sangamon River, and was waited upon at table by a 200-pound girl with
rosy cheeks and bright eyes, who questioned him about the people of the
settlement, and when told that wives were in demand, begged him to take her
along, saying with a sigh that she "had lived six months on the Sangamo
Bottom without seeing a young man," and added that "she could never get
married at that rate." Mr. Strawn told her to hope on, but she insisted,
with tears in her eyes, that there was no hope while she staid there, and
begged to be taken along, which S., in view of her weight and the fact that
his pony was small, the distance great, and a wife and children already to
look out for, declined to do.
Extracted 27 May 2017 by Norma Hass from Records of the Olden Time, 1880, by Spencer Ellsworth, pages 232-245.
| Bureau |  |
LaSalle |
| Marshall |
