USA > Iowa > Jackson County > History of Jackson County, Iowa; Volume I > Part 79
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Sure enough in about ten minutes the deer came bounding back and when within about seventy-five yards from us Esmay bleated like a calf and both deer came to a full stop. Carefully raising their rifles, they took deliberate aim and fired. Did the deer fall? not much, just raised their tails and away they went. Loading their rifles, we again followed them and after going about a quarter of a mile we found by the tracks that our two deer had been joined by five others. After following them about two miles we saw them lying down on a side hill about eighty rods from Squire Clark's, near where we had first discovered the tracks in the morning. Stealthily approaching a large black oak tree, Esmay and father rested their guns on each side of it and fired at the little beauties. Did that hit the deer? Not much, Mr. Brown didn't touch a feather.
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I was so disgusted at the marksmanship of the nimrods, and only being a fourth of a mile from home, I left them in disgust. Whenever I go up that long hill, I always look over at the spot where those seven deer lay so quietly fifty-four years ago, and until the last few years the same black oak tree along the side of which they rested there, was standing. I often think had I not been a better shot the war of the Rebellion would still be going on.
A short time after the deer hunt, my father was more fortunate. In com- ing to Sabula one day, and when about a half mile from home, father discovered a deer with a broken leg, having been shot by some hunter. Hurrying home for our dog, he returned and after chasing the deer for about a half mile the dog caught it as it was jumping the line fence between the farms of Jerry Wood, now owned by Captain N. C. White, and the Sugg farm. Just as he had secured the deer, a hunter came up and claimed it, as he was the one that had shot and crippled it. They finally agreed to divide the deer. In mentioning this incident and the name of Jerry Wood, many an old settler I can now recall, who have long since gone to solve the mysterious unknown-E. A. Wood, U. S. Steen, J. Wood, Carman, Dr. Sugg, Israel Day, James McCabe, Andrew Smith, John Dillie, and Wade Eldredge, and hosts of others that I could enumerate, all of whom I knew when they were in the prime of life. I will here mention an in- cident in which the late Wade Eldredge played a part. In 1846, I think it was, the late Wm. Haylock with his wife and eight children-seven boys and one girl-emigrated to Iowa from Illinois, crossing at Sabula, and located twenty- six miles west, in Fairfield township, about one mile south of Hull's Corners, having entered a section of land from the government at that place. After trying the new country a few years they all became homesick and made up their minds to return to Illinois. Loading what few things they had into a wagon, leaving several acres of wheat nearly ready for harvest, they came to Sabula with the intention of returning to Illinois, and not having money enough to pay their ferriage across the river, Haylock offered Eldredge his crop of growing wheat if he would row them across the river, which Eldredge refused to do, not from any mercenary standpoint, but simply because he didn't want to see any of the settlers leave the state. Upon Eldredge's refusal to ferry them across Haylock got mad and returned to his home and became contented and was quite wealthy at the time of his death, which occurred about thirty years ago. Today that fine piece of land with the exception of which his son John owns, is in the hands of his grandchildren. John is the only one now living of that family of ten that crossed the rivers at Sabula in 1846. It was during the summer of 1853 that the writer first saw our esteemed fellow citizen, Alfred Giddings, the year that he arrived in the United States. I remember the occa- sion very well. There had been a severe thunder storm the night previous and a large red oak tree that stood near the fine spring that furnished us water, had been struck by lightning. Not since that time have I even seen a tree as badly shattered by a bolt of lightning as was that tree, and I remember very well of hearing father and Mr. Giddings discussing as they advanced their theories as to the cause of the lightning. At that time Mr. Giddings was in his prime, and but few men in the county were capable of performing more work than Alfred Giddings, and anyone doubting his ability and willingness along that line have only to pay a visit to that palatial residence in which he now resides, beautified by his own hands, and having all the conveniences of modern times.
Perhaps it would not be out of place at this time to speak a word of praise of the late Jas. McCabe, who will be well remembered by many of the residents now living in this vicinity, over half a century ago. He selected that fine piece of land, a part of which is still owned by his son, John McCabe, and was at the time of which I write, in good circumstances financially. He was always willing to assist new comers at that time who were always in need of seed grain, a cow, or an ox to make a start in their new home. McCabe was a man of powerful physique, in fact, a giant in strength, combined with his generous and cheerful
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disposition, made him a friend with all whom he came in contact, and seldom would anyone meet with a refusal when applying to him for assistance. I remember in the spring of 1853, seed potatoes were quite scarce and being a new comer and having to buy seed, my father took the ox team and went to McCabe's to see if he could buy some seed, which he succeeded in doing, but when father offered to pay for them, Mr. McCabe said: "No, Mr. Oake, I wont take any pay for them, you are welcome to them, by Gob."
At the time of which I write our fine upper turnpike, the pride of Sabula, had not been built. The road across the bottom was the old pike, a few rods north of the present one, part of which can be seen. In times of high water there was no way of reaching the city, only by way of boat, and many a time has the old horse ferry of Sabula plied between Sabula and what is now the Garfield residence, at the west end of the pike. Who of Sabula's old residents do not remember that sturdy old pioneer, Wade Eldredge, father of our city's present popular and good looking druggist, C. G. Eldredge? Uncle Wade, the very personification of honest integrity, a man whose name was as good as his bond. He was at that time widely known as the horse ferry old man who conveyed people across the Father of Waters, while on their way seeking a new home in what was then the wilds of Iowa. In those days of no railroads, the mode of travel was mostly by ox teams, and as Sabula was quite an important point to cross the river, almost any time long lines of prairie schooners could be seen crossing the river at this point, wending their way to the New Eldorado. The present generation accus- tomed to the conveniences and mode of travel of the present times, have but a faint idea of the difficulties and hardships endured by the early settlers in making a journey of any distance in those times-no railroads and but few horse teams and buggies an almost unheard of luxury. The journey would either have to be made by an ox team, horseback, or on foot. I remember in 1853 father made a journey to Tipton, Cedar county, which at that time was where the government land office for this district was located. After getting through with his business, he made the entire distance back to our home, two miles west of Sabula, in one day, on foot. How many of the present generation would under- take the trip? Our mode of living at that time was on a par with the mode of travel, and I can tell you the fancy dishes, such as Angel cake, of the present time, had not been heard of, our principal diet being corn dodger and pork with corn coffee to wash it down. And clothing-overshoes were unknown, and boiled shirts and paper collars were not supposed to be worn by the common people. Give a woman a sunbonnet and a calico dress and a man a hickory shirt and a pair of overalls, and they were attired for either church or dance. During the summer of 1853 Charles Briggs, Sr., and his son, the late Chas. Briggs, and the two Elsdons, mentioned before, had rented and were keeping bachelors' hall on the Deacon Esmay farm, now owned by Cornelius Peters. One day Chas. Briggs, Jr., was visiting at our log cabin and toward evening started home, carrying with him father's single barreled shotgun, one he had brought from England with him, and which at that time was, I believe, the best shotgun in Sabula. As Charley was going along the road toward home, he heard a rustling in the corn field just over the fence, on the west side of the road. Turn- ing to see what caused it, he discovered a fine deer eating corn, not more than twenty feet from where he stood. The deer was looking directly at him, and, quickly raising his gun, he fired directly at its head. Did he kill the deer? Not much. Giving its head a shake it bounded away. Had he known then what he learned later, that it was impossible to kill a deer with a shotgun and small shot by firing directly at its face, but had shot directly at its breast, he would have killed the deer. Right here I would state for the benefit of all young nimrods when hunting deer with a shotgun, never shoot directly at its face, as they have a very thick skull and it requires a very good rifle to bring them down when shot directly in the face. The old shotgun spoken of, and which is now in my
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possession, has been in the family over seventy years, and I don't think there is a gun in Sabula that has killed more game in its time than that gun.
When a boy of ten years, I frequently went with the late Charles Briggs hunting ducks on the island above town. Charley would shoot them and I carried them. When my load got too heavy, I would tie a string to them and hang them to a limb of a tree till we finished our hunt, intending to take them when we returned home. As a general thing, whenever we returned we would have more than we could carry, consequently would have ducks hanging on a half dozen trees on this island. We seldom returned to get them, so they would hang and rot. In those days you could gauge a hunters' bag of game only by the amount of ammunition he had with him, for he could kill as many as he wanted to. To illustrate and give the present generation an idea of the plentifulness of game and how easy to kill it, I will mention the killing of a deer by two woodchoppers on the Sabula Island. In the winter of 1853 Robert Brown, grandfather of our fellow townsman, Robert Brown, and his brother Jacob, both of whom will be remembered by the older residents of our city, were on the island cutting cord wood, when they heard their dogs loudly barking, indicating they were chasing some animal and rapidly approaching the spot where the two Browns were at work. In a few moments a splendid buck, closely followed by the dogs, came quite near to them. So close, in fact, that Robert Brown, Sr., threw his axe at the deer, striking it with such a force as to knock it down. Before the deer could regain its feet, Brown threw himself on it until his brother came to his assistance, when they succeeded in cutting his throat. But during the tussle, both the Browns had their clothes badly torn by the feet of the buck.
In the first part of this letter I mentioned the name of Chas. Briggs, Sr. All the older residents of our city will remember Sabula's pioneer drayman. At one time he owned the eighty acres of land where David Laing now lives, which he sold to Dave's father for eight hundred dollars, Laing paying him all in fifty dollar gold pieces-a coin that is very rare today. I think even in those days it was a coin issued by California and not a government issue. About a quarter of a mile southwest of our log cabin, on land now owned and farmed by Fred Thompson, was located the Methodist camping grounds, in a fine grove of large oak trees, which have long since disappeared, not even a stump remaining to show where that fine body of timber once stood. I can well remember in the summer of 1853, while the meeting was in session, in the quiet of our log cabin home we could distinctly hear the shouts and prayers of those who had been brought to the foot of the cross, and who were fervently returning thanks to the Almighty for the salvation of their souls. And was it not the fact that the editor of the Gazette had not seen the light of day at that early period, I should attribute his high moral character and pious inclinations due in a large degree to his having been reared in close proximity to that hallowed spot.
In the spring of 1854, my father rented the Widow Davis farm, about two and one half miles northwest of Sterling, where we lived for one year, moving from there to Widow Killinger's farm (now owned by S. Hobbs), which my father had rented for two years. At that time the Widow Killinger lived in a small frame house on a site now occupied by the fine modern residence lately built by Mr. Hobbs, while the house we were to live in was an old log house about eighty rods north along the road leading to the Thomas Taplin place, at that time owned by Dominique Joannin, a Frenchman, who will be remembered by all the old set- tlers. Living at home with his mother at that time was Ad Killinger, the widow's youngest son, who at that time was a young man of about twenty years of age. Ad being a little lame, did not work much, but being an expert rifle shot, spent a good deal of his time in hunting. Especially in the spring about corn planting time, Ad could be seen most any time with his rifle shooting ground squirrels that were very numerous at that time and did a good deal of damage digging the young corn. Right there I will have to tell a good one that Ad played on me, and being a good republican and not in the habit of lying, I will try to tell the
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truth and nothing but the truth. At this time I was a boy of a little past eleven years of age, and being a lover of a gun, my father used to let me take our old single barrel shotgun at times to shoot hawks and squirrels, until I considered myself quite an expert with a gun. One day, a short time after corn planting, Ad came up to our house and asked if I had any ammunition as he was entirely out. I told him I had plenty. He said he had been out on the meadow near our corn field shooting ground squirrels that were destroying our corn, and thought he had killed most all except a large old gray one that he had shot repeatedly but had missed every time. Getting the old gun and ammunition, Ad and I set out for the meadow. Arriving at the same, Ad pointed out a large gray squirrel standing erect about one hundred yards distant. Cautiously approaching to within about thirty yards of the animal (it had not moved at all), I took delib- erate aim and fired, and when the smoke had cleared away, I dicovered the squirrel still standing in the same place. Turning around to look at Ad, who was sitting on the ground a few yards behind me, I said: "I missed it, Ad." He told me to load up and try again. Hastily loading my gun, I was about to raise the gun to my shoulder when Ad suggested I get up a little closer. Sneaking up to within about twenty feet, I fired again, but when the smoke cleared away the game was still standing in the same place. Turning around to look at Ad, who I thought would laugh at my marksmanship, I discovered him lying on the grass with a face as long as a police court judge's, when he remarked: "That beats all. I believe the squirrel is asleep. Creep up and knock it over with the gun." Grasping the gun with both hands around the small part of the stock, I sneaked up within four feet when I gave it a tremendous blow with the gun, knocking the squirrel about fifty feet. It was then I discovered I had been sold, for right where the squirrel had stood was a sharpened stake. Then the truth dawned upon me. Ad had shot the squirrel and stood it on the sharpened stake, so that it looked exactly like a live animal, and all this time I had been shooting a dead squirrel. I looked back and saw Ad rolling on the grass bursting with laughter. I can tell you there was a mad Englishman there about that time. Yes, I was sold-more so than when I bought the sawdust ham of Jake Lambert, and I really think that if my gun had been loaded there would have been a dead Pennsylvania Dutchman, but when I went to load my old gun I could not find the ramrod. In giving the squirrel that terrific blow, the ramrod had slipped out of the ferule and went about fifty feet from where I stood. Thus it is and always has been and will continue till the end of time, that innocence and virtue will be imposed upon by the unscrupulous rascals that stalk broadcast in the land in the guise of human beings.
It was while living on this farm, that occurred another incident which I remember very well. It was during the month of August that our young turkeys, (we had quite a flock) in their rambles for insects, went upon the fields of the aforesaid Dominique Joannin and he shot six, which act aroused the British lion, and taking a turkey in his hand started for Joannin place. Upon reaching the gateway up to the house, father called Joannin out. He was in the yard and came out pell mell down to the road. You could hear him a half a mile, being a man fully a hundred pounds heavier than father. He went at him as though he would eat him up, and for a few moments things were quite lively, until Joannin struck his colors and asked for an armistice to give him time to consider this matter. The next day Joannin appeared in Sterling before Doc Clemm, who was then justice of the peace, and tried to have father prosecuted; but after learning the facts in the case, the squire would have nothing to do with the case, and the matter dropped and from that time on father and Joannin were the best of friends.
MILES IN ITS PIONEER DAYS.
Owing to the scarcity, or perhaps almost total lack, of the two great essen- tials in pioneer settlement-wood and water-the country in the immediate
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vicinity of Miles was almost the last to be settled in Jackson county. Nearly every other locality in the county had been favored with one or more of the early pioneers' log cabins or shacks, in the late thirties or early forties, but it was not 'till 1850 that we find any record of a settlement where Miles is now located. During that year E. S. Hathaway entered a quarter section of land, a part of which is now included in the corporate limits of the town of Miles. In 1851 O. K. Legg and Eli Denton entered land in the immediate vicinity, and same year Mr. Hathaway moved to the farm which he owned some years later. James Miles came in 1852 and was soon followed by his brother, Justin, the two brothers entering most of the land now included in the corporate limits of the town. Like all other pioneer neighborhoods, this land had its various names, bestowed generally by some way in the adjacent settlements, and was designated sometimes as "Wolves Hollow," "South Prairie" and "Buttermilk Hollow," though a guideboard at the crossroads bore the name of "Miles Corner," and the schoolhouse located there was known by the same name. The first child born in the settlement was Edward B. Legg.
There was no thought of a town at the corners until the Sabula, Ackley & Dakota Railroad was built through here in 1870, when F. M. Miles, according to the History of Jackson County, deeded the company the undivided one half of forty acres of land, lying on the east side of the road, which is now the main street of the town, the company agreeing upon its part to locate their depot there and to also advertise the lots extensively and use their best efforts to assist in settling them. The land was platted and laid out in lots but the railroad com- pany failed to keep its part of the agreement, and for two years not a lot was permitted to be sold. Mr. Miles, concluding that the company was trying to bunco him, commenced suit against them in the Linn county court, for ten thou- sand dollars damages. The suit was finally compromised, the railroad company deeding back to Mr. Miles all the land, for a consideration of seven hundred and fifty dollars, and Mr. Miles sold practically all the lots in five years at a hand- some profit. During the building of the road, the construction company that camped first at the corners gave the place the name of "Shoofly," the name of a popular rag time song that was all the go then, and the name stuck to the place for years; although it was never recognized as a railroad station or the post- office, although it was fixed to the school district for a short time. It was first proposed to name the town "Merrill," in honor of the then manager of the road, and he was asked for his permission. He replied by saying that there was another town in Iowa by that name, so it would not be best to have a second, but that he would claim the privilege of naming the station. When the new blanks reached the station agent it was found that they were dated "Miles," and so the name has stood since, both fitting and proper.
The first dwelling house was built on the plat by T. J. Allen, in 1872, and the first hotel by Henry Brasse during the same year. The first general stores were opened by H. J. Davis, and O. W. Heynen ; the first drug stores by E. B. Legg and George Gotshall ; hardware, Day & Overholt and A. C. Heynen; bank, Miles and Emerson ; furniture, Henry Littlejohn ; machine and blacksmith shop, A. J. Neal ; harness, Jas. Waite; job printing, Lusk and Allen; grain dealers, J. W. Miles and Henry Brasse ; livery stable, P. T. Coleman and the Hanover House ; physician, Wm. M. Amos ; lawyer, T. W. Darling ; hotels, Hanover House and Laing House; The Miles Reporter was established as a subhead of the Sabula Gazette, in 1877, by J. H. Bahne, then publisher of the Gazette, with Mrs. A. R. Darling as local editress. Of all those mentioned but one now resides in Miles, and that one is A. J. Neal. The others have either passed from this life or have moved to other localities.
From July 1, 1878, to July 1, 1879, all of the live stock shipped out of Miles consisted of eighty cars of hogs and fifteen of cattle. Several times that number of cars go out each year now.
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The Miles creamery was built by a joint stock company in 1879, commencing operations in June of that year, under the management of John Nietert. The postoffice was established in 1871, with E. S. Hathaway as postmaster. He was succeeded, in 1873, by T. J. Allen, who remained in charge for several years.
The first step toward forming a school district in the locality was made in 1852, when O. H. Legg and E. S. Hathaway got R. B. Wyckoff to draw up a petition for that purpose, and through that petition an organization was effected although there was but three children of a school age then living in the dis- trict-Gurden and George Hathaway and Marion Legg. The following season, in 1853, a board shanty was erected for a schoolhouse, on Mr. Legg's land, the the first school with eight pupils-Justin Miles having moved in with his family in the meantime-was taught by Miss Marcia Miles. The shanty was only used one year for school purposes, when a more pretentious building was erected, at the crossroads and known as subdistrict No. 5, Van Buren township.
On July 20, 1872, an election was held for the purpose or organizing an independent school district, the directors elected being W. S. Kellogg, T. J. Allen and William Bryant. At the same election, by a vote of the electors assembled, it was decided that the name of the district should be the "Independent School District of Shoofly," under which it "lived, worked and had its being," until March, 1877, when, by vote of the electors it was changed to the Independent School District of Miles.
At the March election, in 1875, the electors voted a tax of eight mills on the dollar on the taxable property in the district, for the purpose of building a new schoolhouse. Nothing further was done that year, however, and at the annual meeting, in 1876, the school board was authorized to issue ten per cent school bonds in the sum of three thousand dollars, for the purpose of building a new schoolhouse. The building was completed in the fall of that year, by E. B. Brain, contractor, at a cost of three thousand, seven hundred and fifty dollars. The old school building was sold at public auction in March, 1877, F. M. Miles securing it for one hundred and two dollars and changing it over into a barn.
The first Methodist Episcopal church services in this locality were held in the old schoolhouse at the crossroads, about 1869, being transferred from Mount Algor, where it was a part of the Vernon Prairie circuit. Later it was known as the Miles circuit, including Miles, Almont, Vernon, Prairie and Teed's Grove. A parsonage for the pastor in charge was erected at Miles, in 1874, at a cost of one thousand, five hundred dollars. The present church building was built in 1875, the cost being about three thousand, five hundred dollars.
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