USA > Iowa > Jackson County > History of Jackson County, Iowa; Volume I > Part 49
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a little flour for cakes. McCloy filled the dish from a grist he was grinding at the time for some customer. Mr. Wilson said that there was probably one or two cents worth of the flour and McCloy probably gave it no thought, as grain was about as cheap as sand in those days. But there was a vital religious principle out- raged (a cent's worth) and it was thought best to have it investigated at the next meeting .. It became noised among the profane world, and another meeting was called, and a petition signed to have the church proceedings quashed as to Mr. McCloy's cents worth of forgetfulness of one of the ten commandments. He might have thought that cent's worth of flour came under the head of Christ's com- mand to His disciples to take of the corn to sustain the present but none to carry away.
None were anxious to present the petition of the people, so Shade Burle- son, who took a delight in most things of life from the sublime to the ridicu- lous, arose and moved it be presented by the humblest man in the country, and a ballot was taken to locate him. A certain settler (won't name him) who "Uncle Ance" said was the humblest man he ever saw in his life, rose up and addressed the chair, "You needn't go to the trouble to take a vote, as I am already elected." Burleson asked him if he would qualify, and he said he would, so the petition was turned over to him to present at the following church meeting.
After the regular sermon was delivered by the Rev. Salter and services closed, he remarked, there was a little church business to come before those interested. All present were interested and when the subject was brought up "the ugliest man in the country" walked up with his petition and laid it on the altar. The Rev. Salter glanced over it and remarked, "Brethren, the charge against Brother McCloy will be dropped for the present." "Uncle Ance" said it always stayed dropped.
This half hour spent with "Uncle Ance" Wilson was interesting and in- structive to the writer, as he was a man of known reliability, social activity, and the last link between the present and the time prior to 1840 of those, who at man's estate. came to Jackson county. This narrative is only a memory record of a social chat as such things go between men, but in the main is true to details.
A BUCKEYE CHRISTMAS. (Sabula Gazette.)
As the season of the year notifies me of the near approach of Christmas, and not being busy, I thought I would write a few lines either for the Gazette or the waste basket, which I will leave the editor to decide, and my mind runs back to the Christmas time in this neighborhood, sixty years ago, the busy times in this old Wyckoff home, a part of which was built on purpose for merry making on Christmas and other holidays.
My revered father, Colonel R. B. Wyckoff, in building a kitchen which he needed, concluded to make one that would answer two purposes, so he built it sixteen by thirty-six and put in a swing partition so when he wished to make it into a dance hall he could. The partition was swung up to the wall, and it made a hall sixteen feet wide and thirty-six feet long, which at that time was the most elaborate hall in the country. As I look back to my boyhood days, I can see that kind old mother with sleeves rolled up, mixing the material for those famous mince pies which only mothers can make, besides the ginger- bread and fried cakes that tasted so good to me, and as I write it seems to me that, although she has been dead fifty years, I can hear her say, "Now, Charley, don't touch those pies or that gingerbread or those fried cakes, they are for Christmas. Well, now, if you will be a good boy and split those dry rails so when father comes he can build a fire in the oven, I have twenty-five more pies ready to bake, and I will give you a cake and a piece of gingerbread." The
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oven spoken of was built of brick, arched over on top with an iron door. It was heated by filling with wood and when the wood had been burned down, the ashes and coals were taken out clean and what was wanted to be baked was put in. Mother could bake twenty-five fine pies at one heating. I have counted two hundred mince pies on the pantry shelves at one time. Perhaps, should this miss the waste basket and get to the readers of the Gazette, there will still be some who will read it with pleasure.
At the time of which I am writing, the company did not wait until 8 or 9 o'clock to come, but commenced coming in the afternoon, often as early as 3 o'clock. At 4 o'clock supper commenced and tables had to be set in the dance hall. As fast as people come they were served, as it was expected that all would be through with supper and the hall cleared ready to commence dancing by 6 o'clock. Should anyone be belated they had to eat supper in a small place.
After the hall was cleared the music was generally furnished by Robert Westbrook and John Scarborough, well known in the home of the Gazette, which furnished as guests the Canfields, Schramlings, Bards, McElroys, Whites, Vials and others. Hauntown furnished the Hauns and Griswolds. Bellevue furnished Hoods, Davises and others. Andrew furnished the Butter- worths, Palmers and Snyders; Deep Creek furnished the Farleys and Dickeys, besides our home Baldwins, Osburns, Swaneys, Prussias and Hatheways. There was the old tin candlesticks that used to hang beside the wall to hold the candle made from deer's tallow and hog lard.
There was no Standard Oil in those days, and none of your whirlaround stand up and squeeze 'em dances. It was quadrilles, money musk or Virginia reels. It will be remembered by early settlers that my father was quite a singer and would often entertain the company with a song. John Scarborough would tell a very amusing story. The mince pies, the gingerbread and the cake was set on the pantry shelves and everyone helped themselves through the night. Those from Sabula and other distant points often stayed until after breakfast. If snow was on the ground, they came in sleds ; if not, they came in wagons, with a board across the box for seats, or sat down in the bottom, and often came with ox teams.
I don't remember any trouble at any of those dances, nor of anyone having too much drink, although on a little stand was a decanter filled with Billy G. Haun's best, free to all who wished it, but right here permit me to say at that time there was no such place as a saloon.
In every trading post, either in the back room or cellar, there was a keg on tap free to all, and further, most of the young people belonged to some kind of a temperance society, but promoters of temperance quit trying to persuade people to do right and concluded to compel them by law, and I am forced to believe the temperance people made a great mistake in trying to make the people be temperate. But just one more thought, as I am an old man whose sand is almost run out, and go back with me sixty years ago to the old swing- ing bed and help me raise those warm bed clothes made from the wool, spun by those busy hands of mother, and help me raise my head on cold Christmas morning and behold the row of stockings knit by the same fingers, hanging around the mantle shelf of the old fireplace, and see those happy faces as we pile out of bed and eagerly take out the little tokens left us by the man who came down the chimney, and together let us thank God that our lot has been cast in a Christian land, and that when He calls we shall meet that good old mother in the happy land.
John Zitteral, of Maquoketa, gave us the following sketch of his experience with Betty DeFries, who in his young days was a soldier in the wars carried on by the Great Napoleon :
Fifty years ago J. C. Blessing and myself were employed by DeFries to do the mason work on a stone house. The old man was very strict and particular and everything had to be done according to his plans. When the stone work had
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been almost completed, the stone masons discovered, with quite a shock and dis- may, that the wall was not quite level, that one corner was lower than the other parts, and that it would be impossible to go on with the work without tearing out that part of the wall and rebuilding it. They made the discovery just at quitting time at the end of the day, and Blessing, who was a poor man with a family, was much worried. Zitteral was unmarried and did not take the matter seriously. They well knew if DeFries knew of the blunder, he would make them do the work over at their own expense. Zitteral soon conceived a plan and told Blessing to leave the matter entirely to him. Zitteral went to his room early, but did not go to bed, and instructed Blessing to notify him when all the family had gone to bed by coughing, and he then slipped outside with his shoes in his hands. He waited patiently until a cough from his partner told him all had retired, then he went to work like a trooper to tear down the wall. He says he never worked harder on any job than tearing out their work on that wall; and as it was a warm night, he was reeking with perspiration. When he finished his work, he slipped into the house and slept the sleep of the tired if not of the just, until awakened by a hullaballoo of the elder DeFries in the morning, who had discovered that his wall was torn down by an enemy, as he supposed. Every- body was routed out to see the work of "vandals." The old man suspected a neighbor and vowed vengeance on him. He finally asked Blessing what was to be done about it. Blessing said, "I will leave it to my partner, and whatever he says I will abide by." Zitteral was appealed to, and says: "I told the old man that it was unforunate all around, but we must make the best of it. I and my partner will do the work over, and you must board us and pass the bottle oftener." The old man readily agreed to that, and work was resumed; the bottle was brought out four times before noon. The work progressed very nicely, but the old man was very much worked up over the injury done him, and insisted it was the work of a neighbor who had tried to get the contract of building the house. He loaded his old musket with which he had fought the French in the Napoleonic wars with buckshot, and loaded a double barreled shot gun and mounted guard every night, awaiting the return of the miscreant who had injured him, intend- ing to fix him good and plenty when he did come. Zitteral was very much afraid he would shoot some innocent party, but no one ventured around the place until the building was finished. Zitteral says there were two chimneys in the gables, one for use and the other for ornament: Before the mason work was completed, Zitteral wrote out a history of the case, telling why the wall was torn down, by whom, etc., and placed it inside the chimney that was not to be used and covered it over. When the work was completed, the old man paid them off in gold pieces brought from Germany, most of which was ten gilder pieces, and would take nothing in exchange except gold. Some years afterward Zitteral told an old crony about the incident and of putting the history of the case in the chimney and walling it in, but under strict promise of secrecy. But the friend could not keep it, and the story finally came to the old man's ears, and he had the chimney opened and got the letter out and read it and destroyed it without showing it to a single person. When Zitteral knew that the old man found out the trick played on him, he was shy of getting in the old man's vicinity; but years after, when the old man was aged and feeble, he was passing the place and ยท made bold to stop in. He says he was extended a hearty welcome, and the bot- tle was brought out and he enjoyed the old man's hospitality, but never a word was said of the broken wall.
REMINISCENCES OF MRS. ANNA E. WILSON.
In the year of 1831 John D. Simmons left Onondagua county, New York, to come west. He first took up land on Deep Creek, then lived in Dubuque, building a log house there in 1832. Married his wife in Galena, Illinois; came to Bellevue and started a bakery, where he supplied steamboats from St. Louis
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to St. Paul with bread and crackers. In 1837 he sent for his father and mother to come; and when they came, they brought six grown sons, who took up land, and one of the farms is still in the family, owned by Dan Simmons, on Deep Creek, Jackson county, Iowa. In 1844, October Ist, two families, sisters of J. D. Simmons, left Sirracusa, New York, by canal to the lakes, where we took the lake steamer to Chicago, then a small, dirty place. Here we hired an emi- grant wagon to haul our goods and ten persons to Savanna, Illinois, where we crossed the Mississippi into Charleston-now Sabula-where Egbert Simmons met us with two ox teams and hauled us to Deep Creek. This was November 3d, 1844. I was only a child and had always lived in a city. The log house, wooden door, latch with buckskin strings, hickory splint broom, a big fireplace, two beds with curtains around them below and above, was the wonder to me. We went up stairs by a ladder. There were two beds; the rafters were full of hick- ory pegs, in place of nails. On these pegs hung carded rolls of wool and herbs of every kind (for there were no doctors there) ; candle molds, a spinning wheel, a gun, fishing tackle, etc. One window with six small lights of glass.
One morning about 5 a. m. my mother called me and said, "We are going to Bellevue today and it is a long distance, so we must get an early start." We started before daylight and it was dark when we reached Bellevue: you see our horses were oxen then, and bad roads. This was about the 12th of November, 1844. We soon after moved to Bellevue, as my stepfather was a cooper and my uncle J. D. Simmons needed him to make barrels for his crackers.
At the time we came here there were three hotels, all doing a good business. Mrs. Palmer, whose husband was killed four years before in the Browns war, kept a good place. The old building is still standing, and owned by Benj. Sew- ard, Sr. Mr. Smithers owned and run a tavern that Brown owned and was killed in. Mr. Smithers was a father of Mrs. Hiram Beedle, now of Billings, Montana. The other hotel was owned and run by a colored woman, Mrs. Louisa Burk, better known as "Aunt Jessie." She was known far and wide for her generous hos- pitality. Stores were then run by Mr. and Mrs. James Mitchell where Wecks' Hotel now stands. Mrs. Mitchell was the mother of the late Mrs. Nathaniel Kil- born. You could buy in this store dry or wet goods, and groceries. The first school book I bought in Iowa I bought there. Then, down near the Jasper Mill was a store owned by Philo Potter, a son of Captain Potter, and brother of Byron Potter, Sr., afterward sold to M. Hyler, who, although up in the eighties, is still behind the counter ready to wait on you, to a pound of tea, a calico dress or a keg of nails, always wearing the same obliging smile. All the church there was here at that time was a plain Catholic church, afterward burned, just east of the marine works. The first circus was in 1849, one ring, just southwest of the old Catholic church. The first Fourth of July celebration I remember of was held in Jasper Mill. Dinner was served there and a dance at night. The first school I went to was taught by Mr. Bartlett in a frame dwelling on the river bank, this side of Kelso's Bank. A fireplace warmed it ; we had benches without back. The next school was in an old unpainted frame building on the hill west of our present school building; afterward built over by Dr. Lake; now owned by Miss Felderman. The teacher there was Andrew Woods. There was no free school money. There was a hazel patch growing where our present school building now stands, and I used to gather some fine strawberries there. My first Sunday school teacher was Mrs. Z. Jennings, afterward Mrs. Eli Cole Seamonds. My next Sunday school teacher was Mrs. Julia Ball, now Mrs. Warren, still living, and, although ninety-six years old, retains all her faculties. She was the wife of the late Captain W. A. Warren. The first ministers were the Congrega- tionalist minister, Rev. Coleman, and two Methodist Episcopals, Revs. Dennis and Rev. Smith. My stepfather's name was George Brock; was a soldier in the Florida war five years; received an honorable discharge. My name before I was married was Anna E. Brunson; after I was married, Wilson. My stepfather died here in 1848. Our first furniture was made by a Scotch gentleman by name
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of Holiday. Some of his stands are still in use here. He died with cholera in 1850. About doctors, Mrs. Andrew Farley owned a farm where Preston, Iowa now stands. Her husband went to Bellevue with a load of wheat the day of Brown's war and stooping to pick up a fallen man, some one shot him dead. She had a large family to care for. She was the only one to go in cases of sick- ness, and never refused once. I was there when her son was bitten by a rattle- snake. She gave him milk to drink and made a poultice of tobacco, salt and soft soap, bound it on his foot with salt pork. He was not even sick to his stomach Appendicitis, now, was then called inflammation of the bowels. No doctor was sent for. A brass kettle, something owned by every family, was put on the fire, filled with cold water, and dry or green smartweed put in the water, all it would hold. As soon as it was boiling hot, the smartweed was placed between flan- nels, wrung out just so as not to make the bed too wet, and put on as hot as pos- sible, and have another prepared to put on before that was removed. This was continued until relief was had. I never knew of a death from it.
JACQUES CHARPIOT.
The following interesting sketch of one of Jackson county's pioneers was clipped from a letter written by J. W. Ellis, for the Clinton Advertiser in July, 1897. Mr. Ellis, who was well acquainted with Jacques Charpiot, says that as an explorer, scout and guide, as well as his adventurous life on the plains and in the mountains, would entitle him to rank with Kit Carson. Since this letter was written, both Jacques and Barbara have crossed the dark river and joined their kindred on the other shore :
We had a pleasant visit one day last week with our old friend Jacques Char- piot of the Tetes des Morts Valley. Jacques is a quaint character and has had a wonderfully eventful career. He was born in France in 1839; desiring to come to America when about fourteen years old and being refused a passport, he had some friends nail him up in a cracker box and carry him aboard an American bound vessel, whereby he escaped the vigilant eye of the inspector, and was en- abled to join his friends in Philadelphia. At the breaking out of the Civil war he was living in St. Louis and enlisted in the First Missouri, and served through the war. In 1866 he fitted out twelve teams with a yoke of cattle to each wagon and went to freighting across the plains to Denver and other points, accumulat- ing a vast amount of wealth.
At one time he was engaged in the mercantile business in Denver and oper- ated a mine, working a large force of men for three years. At one time a fire in Central City cleaned him out. He handled hundreds of thousands of dollars and spent money as lavishly as a prince. After spending tens of thousands of dollars on his mines, they proved nothing better than a sinkhole to him. On one occasion he sold a mine to an eastern broker for one hundred thousand dollars. The papers were made out and the broker came on to Denver with the funds to pay for it, ar- riving on the stage in the evening, and notified Jacques to meet him at his hotel the next morning. During the night the man died. A son came on from the east for the body of his father. On being told of the business of his father in Den- ver, he said that he had not lost a mine, and didn't want to find one, so took the one hundred thousand dollars back with him.
On one occasion while freighting, he passed a ranch where a butcher lived and saw thousands of hides drying in the sun. He hunted up the butcher and asked him what he intended to do with them. The butcher didn't know. "What will you take for them?" asked the Frenchman. "What will you give?" Char- piot offered fifty dollars and was told to take them. He had the hides stacked on his wagons and bound them with poles like hay, and started east with them. When he got to Omaha, a passing empty vessel took the hides to St. Louis for a nominal sum, and the astute Frenchman cleaned up over four thousand dollars. On his return trip, which he was accustomed to make empty, after several years of
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varying fortunes, sometimes almost a millionaire, and at other times freighting with oxen, he found himself in 1872 with very little of his great fortune left, ex- cept the farm which he had bought in Prairie Springs township before the war.
Being brave and resolute and fond of adventure, he was easily persuaded to join a United States geological survey party in 1872, and was in the employ of the government in that capacity for several years. His tales of adventure are more entertaining than Cooper's novels. He led the surveying party into the cliff dwellers' country in the southwest corner of Colorado, and thinks that he was the first white man that ever gazed on the ruins of this prehistoric people. While exploring the roughest portion of the mountainous country of Colorado they were attacked by a party of renegade Utes, who surrounded them on the side of the mountain and kept them corralled in a place where they could not obtain water for several days. They had to lay concealed through the day, as any movement in their camp would bring a volley of bullets from the concealed foe.
One morning after the party had been three days without water, Charpiot put a piece of loaf sugar in his mouth and ground it up and blew it out as dry as powder, remarking that they had stayed long enough in that place. He told his companions that in another day they would all die without water and they must fight their way out; that if any of them fell, the others would pay no atten- tion to them but keep right on.
"I will take the lead; if I fall, keep on in the way I am going." He led the lead mule and kept the bell ringing to attract the fire of the Indians to himself, and although severely wounded in the head, he emerged from the trap, with the party entire, but with the loss of seven mules killed; they were five hundred miles from a settlement or camp, and had but fifteen pounds of flour. This, when they got to water, they mixed up and baked on hot stones. A thin cake, half the size of a man's hand, was the ration for one day. They made the jour- ney of five hundred miles in ten days, living on such small birds and game as they could shoot with their pistols.
After they reached Denver, Charpiot received a present from the govern- ment in recognition of his services, of which he was very proud, it being a silver- mounted pistol with the following inscription: "Presented to Jacques Charpiot for bravery and fidelity in the battle with the Renegade Utes, August 15 and 16, 1875." After that expedition, Charpiot left the survey and started a restau- rant in Denver. He was prospering when a fire cleaned him out, and he re- turned to his Iowa home to spend his remaining days in peace, far from the ex- citing scenes through which he had passed.
The old hero has all the comforts of life, a good productive farm, a thrifty orchard, and good buildings. The cellar of their stone mansion is hewn out of solid rock, from which Mrs. Charpiot brought forth last year's apples, which were as sound on the 28th of July as in the previous October. Mrs. Charpiot is a worthy partner for her adventurous husband. Although sixty-four years of age, her luxuriant hair is black as a raven, and she has a fine figure. She bears a striking resemblance to the Empress Josephine, first wife of the great Napoleon.
REMINISCENCE OF ISAIAH COOLEY.
A year or two prior to his death Isaiah Cooley came into our office and pre- sented us with a flax hackle, that he stated was more than one hundred years old, and a tar bucket that his father brought to Jackson county in 1841. It was this same Mr. Cooley that discovered the counterfeiters' cave on Pine Run in Brandon township, in 1856-57. Mr. Cooley told us of the strange disappearance of a man who lived at the four corners, now known as Emeline, in 1840. A man by the name of Taylor with his family lived at the corners, and a man whose name we can not now recall came there and took up a claim which has long been known as the Ewing Gilmore place, and boarded with the Taylor family while making preparations to build a cabin on his claim. He got out logs for his cabin
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and invited the neighbors to come on a certain day to help him raise the house. The neighbors came at the appointed time, but the man whom they were to assist was missing and was never seen in that locality again. The neighbors believed that he was made away with by the people with whom he boarded for the money he was supposed to have. The family soon left the neighborhood and the disap- pearance of the young man became tradition.
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