USA > Indiana > Jackson County > Early History Of Jackson County Hardships And Privations Endured And Encountered With The Indiana > Part 4
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Col. Samuel Burcham,
father of Elder James Burcham, with his family came here in 1813, and settled the old farm just north of the present
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residence of Morse B. Singer. The site of his early home is there. A little mound marks the foundation of his cabin and a few decayed fruit trees point out the home of his youth. The surviving member of his family that I know of is James Burcham, Sr., of Kossuth, Washington county, now 76 years of age; but his grand and great-grandchildren inhabit the land he subdued. At the time some five families were west of White river-two of the Beems, William and Jacob Flinn, and Mr. Guthrie at Leesville. This settlement suffered from an attack of the Indians in the spring of 1815, which threw a gloom over the neighboring settlements, and for a time a- roused the settlers to a state of frenzy. The shock came so sudden and so unlooked for and its results so disastrous as to alarm and excite every one and again destroy their confidence in the pledges of peace made by the Indians, whose broken vows were written in treachery and the blood of slaughtered victims. A man by the name of Guthrie and two of the Flinns were clearing land, when they were attacked by the Indians. Guthrie was shot through the shoulder and made his escape to the fort. Young Flinn was shot and scalped, and died the next day, and old Jacob Flinn was taken prison- er by the Indians. This was the last attack made on the settlers of Jackson county; yet they felt insecure, and looked upon the pledges made by the Indians when smoking the pipe of peace as an empty sound-a mere subterfuge to more readily ensnare their victims and place him in their power. When the mighty angel shall disclose the startling facts to the astonished nations and tribes of men, these treacherous, heartless and bloody savages will have much to atone for. Their garments will be crimsoned with the blood of innocence, and many a gray-haired man, tottering on a broken staff, and many an aged mother will rise up in judgment against them. But quiet and confidence having again been somewhat restor- ed, the discomfited settlers betook themselves to labor to im- prove their homes. The axmen were busy in the forest fell- ing trees, hewing and splitting puncheons for the erection of more comfortable homes, and the sound of industry echoed and re-echoed from many a hill top, for the hardships and privations of the pioneers did not all cease with the retreat of the savages. The rose bush did not spring unbidden from the earth, nor the forest become transformed to cultivated fields without steady, vigorous labor. The dark forest would
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not let go her rooty hold to fields of wheat and maize, nor marshy reeds to cultivated meadows, at the bidding of the magician or the sweep of the magic wand.
The First Mill
The great need of the settlers was a mill, for a trip to or beyond Charlestown on horseback, with several streams to cross, which were often swimming, was anything but desira- ble, and the slow process of gritting or pounding corn into meal was too tedious to be continued. In 1812, a two-wheel mill was built by Aquilla Rogers at Vallonia, on the branch above where Thomas Craft now lives. It was an entire fail- ure. But in the fall of the same year James Hutchinson erected a mill on the branch just west of Christian Doerr's residence, which did well. It would grind six to seven bushels a day. It is said that at one time the old man was so thronged with grinding that he ground all night, grinding in twenty-four hours eleven bushels of corn. And yet people were compelled for many miles around to depend upon this mill, which was simpie in construction and imperfect in the execution of its work, only grinding corn. There was not, however, much need for a flouring mill for wheat was not introduced for the first five years among the settlers; yet the mills of those days, imperfect as they were, served as fingerboards to better times among the settlers. Many is the good hoe or Johnny cake that the kind mother and wife has lifted from smoking lard before the open fire and placed it fresh and warm beside some roasted venison on the puncheon table, where father, surrounded by stalwart boys and girls, would break the fast. Next in 1815, Iseminger built a mill on the present site of the Shepperd mill and put a flouring attachment to it-a bolt to be turned by hand-but the flour was so indifferent that the people preferred Johnny cake.
The First School
The first school taught in the county was by Captain Big- ger, of the Rangers, at Vallonia, in 1812-13.
The First Distillery
The first distillery in the county was built on the little branch, on the south side of Morse B. Singer's home farm, by Isaac Harrell, in 1814 or 15.
Thus side by side the pioneer erected his church, his school
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and his distillery, but, unlike us, he had not learned to poison his liquors. He gave them to his neighbors pure from the still, and while they quaffed an honest draught they were not drunken, crazed or vicious, but sober, moral upright, religious men.
The Grassy Fork Settlement
The settlement in Grassy Fork township was of more tardy growth and up to the spring of 1815 there were but four families before alluded to, to-wit: David Sturgeon, Isaac Burge, John Parks and James Blair, Sr., in the entire district of country now comprising Grassy Fork and Washington townships. The first spring that Sturgeon settled on his farm -March 5, 1813-he cleared the green wood, chopped up, piled and burned five acres of land, and put it in cultivation, beside going to about twenty log-rollings and house-raisings in the border settlements. He has told me that he often walked five or ten miles before day to one of the settlements to assist in log-rolling. It was a time when men must of needs depend on their neighbors far and near.
The clearings were heavy, many of them being taken from the green woods, and new buildings the same. But men de- lighted to render such assistance and not to be invited was taken as an insult. To one who can remember those rollings of forty years ago, (and they were heavier before that), it is a matter of excitement and pleasure to review them in mem- ory and see twenty, thirty and not unfrequently forty men assembled together for miles around at a very early hour in the morning, and with well shaven spikes on shoulder repair to the clearing. Men of all ages were there, and usually a few lads to bring the water and the jug for the latter was as indispensible as the spike. To have thought of raising a house or rolling a field of logs without whisky, would have been simply ridiculous. Men were accustomed to it, and all classes-church members and ministers-took their dram and went home sober.
The forenoon was usually spent by all the hands working in company or in groups together; but after dinner had been served and the usual rest of an hour had been taken, wherein many of the youth would try their skill at jumping and wrestling, the universal sport of the day, all hands repaired to
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the clearing. Two men were selected by the crowd to divide the hands and two the ground for the evening's race. The captains usually doffed their hats and donned red cotton handkerchiefs, and after a dram had been taken all around the work in earnest began. I have seen, when quite a boy, old David Sturgeon with that red handkerchief on, leading his band of youthful log-men, (for he usually selected the young as much as possible for they, like he, were impulsive), in. the evening's race. Then work was done, and the clearing lead up in strips of lands to be worked in thorough. Then a little rest and drink, and then, at the shout of the captains, all hands were ready to exert muscle. But the real excitement of the contest culminated in the piling of the last heap Usually three or four trees or logs of great length and weight were selected for the last pile, where all the hands met to- gether for a mutual test of muscle.
After the usual rest and drink each captain called his men and they paired for the lift, the captains lifting together and the men in their order. When the word "ready" passed along the lines and the quick shouts of the captains were given, every muscle was strained to its utmost tension, and many a spike was in the heap did the excitement cease. Then supper, then the usual shake of the hand, and then each repaired to his distant home, many not reaching it till midnight. But how, asks. many of my readers, did the good mothers, with their scanty stock of cooking utensils, prepare, without the aid of stoves, comfortable meals for so many. Go and ask Mrs. Carr, step-mother of John F. and George W. Carr, Mrs. Sturgeon, relict of David Sturgeon, Mrs. Duffey, ancient re- lict of Thomas Ewing, and the little remnant of those good old mothers now left among us still standing as sentinels on the waste of years, and they will tell you that not a man left their table hungry or dissatisfied.
It is true, at the time of which I am writing, from 1812 to 1815 sweet cakes, pies, tarts and jellies did not enter into the bill of fare. If flour could have been had, fruits were wanting, and sugar and molasses had not found their way among the settlers, while tea and coffee were entirely un- known, milk and water filling their place. But the well- baked or roasted saddle of venison, brown and good, the more delicate turkey, plump and fat, well stewed with potatoes, and
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the rich gravy thickened with corn meal, and large plates of dried pumpkins, sweet and juicy, accompanied with large loaves of corn bread which had been prepared the day pre- vious, and not unfrequently an oily slice of bear's meat, smoked as bacon, was added to the bill of fare. Yet these were relished more than the daintiest food, and men grew strong and healthy on them.
But slow as had been the growth of the settlement in Grassy Fork, in the spring of 1815 several new families were added to the neigbormhood, giving a zest and fullness to the flow of life. John Davis, father of the old Davis family-a family of sixteen children-twelve girls and four boys-settled just south of and owned that beautiful hill on which is now situated the Pleasant Grove cemetery. Old Billy Moore, whose daughter Davis married, settled there also and died the 22nd of February, 1822, at the advanced age of 97 years. This was the first death of an adult which occurred in the township, and neighbors came for miles to dig his grave and lay him down to rest. His grave was at the base of the hill, near where the cemetery was afterwards formed, and forty years subsequent to his death Mrs. Davis had his grave opened to bear his remains to the cemetery, but not a particle of dust was to be found.
James Russell, Sr.,
Father of John and James Russell, settled near Mount Sidney in 1817, and James Smith the same year. In 1816, Reuben Rucker the elder, came to Grassy Fork, and settled on the banks of the Pond creek, one-half mile south of Kleinmeyer's. He was the father of an extensive family, amongst whom was Nathan C., Jesse T. and John B. Rucker. He had three other sons, who died early in life; but the three first named were the elder and bore their share of the labor of the early settle- ment. Nathan settled one mile north of Tampico, where he opened a beautiful farm, raised a large family and died a few years ago in the full respect of all his neighbors. His grave and that of his wife, with some of his children and grand- children may be seen on a beautiful knoll by the roadside, in front of the family mansion, where he settled in 1825. Jesse T. lives in New Albany. He is near 70 years of age. John B. died in the prime of life of consumption.
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Jesse Tuell, the elder,
Settled on that beautiful farm now owned by his grandson, O. W. Tuell, of Grassy Fork. He came originally from Ken- tucky to Clark county, and subsequently to Jackson county, where he and his family, who were, many of them, grown when they settled in the county in 1817, acted a conspicuous part in opening of the same. Mr. Tuell was the fortunate father of seven sons in succession. All save two grew to man's estate, and their history is a part of the history of the country. Afterwards three daughters were born-Polly, who married Judge Daily, Nancy, who married Rev. E. Hor- nady, and Elizabeth, who married Rhodes W. Mead -- as also one son-Philip, now a resident of Washington county. Of this numerous family, so well known and loved by the early settlers, men of whom it was said in early time would travel a day's Journey to smite a foe or relieve a friend, all are gone save one. Philip is the solitary scion left of a time-honored race. Next came
Hezekiah Applegate
Father of Philip D. Applegate of Vallonia. He settled the farm now owned by William Sturgeon, where, in addition to the son named, he raised a large family, all of whom, save Philip and Mrs. Miller, relict of John P Miller, have either died or left the state. He was the first Justice of Peace in his township, having been elected in 1820, which office he filled for many years to the entire satisfaction of his neigh- bors. His house was but a stone's throw from Sturgeon's and their children grew up together and bore their fathers to their resting places in the same grave-yard. In 1818,
Gabriel Woodmansee,
Father of Asher Woodmansee, formerly of Brownstown, came from New York and settled the farm now owned by Freder- ick Stahl, Sr., but he and family are mostly gone. His eldest son, Thomas, was buried in August 1822, on the old farm. He and his wife and two daughter-Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Moore-sleep in the quiet cemetery of the Driftwood church where the first church of the county was erected, of which they were members. Asher rests in the family grave-yard on his farm at Brownstown. Asa Woodmansee, of Seymour and
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Catherine Wayman relict of Charles L. Wayman and mother of O. W Tuell, are all that remain in this county of that very extensive family. Then came
the Mays and Beldons
The two Mays, Thomas and Reuben, still live at Tampico, almost ninety years of age. Their strong, iron frames have withstood the wear of time for near a century, and yet their mind and memory are clear and good. They are a few of those pioneers who penetrated the wilderness at an early day, and have seen it transformed to a garden. They and their comrades wrought together as one man for the common good. At the stroke of the ax the forest disappeared and the culti- vated fields spread out. The camp-fires of the savages have died out on the mountains and their war-whoop is still in the valley. Beautiful farms, full of comfort and teeming with life and surrounded with all the conveniences of civilization, mark the place of their early cabins. Then Oliver Beldon and the Fislars, adding to the physical and moral strength of locks have been fanned by the breezes of ninety winters, yet the neighborhood, and old William Clark, whose whitened active and strong in body and in mind, he may be seen at Tampico cheerful as when a boy.
Conclusion
Kind readers, these letters for the present at least must be closed. I have written far beyond my first intention; but when I came to take in review the memory of our fathers, now fast passing away, the services they render their coun- try, and the manifold blessings conferred on their children, I really did not know when to break off. Most of them crossed the great river of death and are housed upon the distant shore. The little remnant with whitened locks, are nearing the stream, preparing to join their comrades. They bind to- gether the present and the past, and with deep solicitude they watch us, to see if we are worthy of our ancestry. Their history was a part of the history of the country, and the in- heritance they bequeathed was liberty.
But, kind editor, I have claimed your indulgence too long, and have extended these articles to too great a length I have sketched briefly the appearance and disappearance of
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some of the families of the early settlers, most of whom I knew or was acquainted with their immediate descendants. But they are gone, like ripened shearers gatherd to the gran- ary of the universe. Their ancient cabins are torn down and the mound of their ruins can scarce be marked.
Kind readers of The Banner-
Farewell! A word that must be and hath been- A sound which makes us linger-yet, Farewell!
-H. W. Chadwick
The following are letters written by John H. Benton of Washington, D. C., depicting the early history of Southern Indiana, particularly of Jack- son County, telling of the work of the Rangers during the years of 1810-13, and biographies of early settlers. The letters were published in The Banner in 1893 and republished in 1943 .- EDITOR
A Letter From Washington
The paragraph in a recent communication of your Vallonia correspondent relating to my life- long friend, Andrew J. Miller, awakened a train of pleasant recollections of that worthy man covering a period of more than fifty years; for I first be- gan to know who and what Jackson Miller was in June, 1837, when I saw him in Brownstown with his then newly married wife. And now after the lapse of so many years I find no little enjoyment in recalling the many pleasing incidents connected with the beginning and maturer years of our aquaintance. His relation of matters connected with the early history of Vallonia and its vicinity, as they were told him by his father, brought to my recollection some of the tragic events connect- ed with the early history of our county, and par- ticularly the killing of the two settlers-Buskirk and Sturgeon-by the Indians, as related to me by his brother, Frederick Miller about forty years ago. This killing occurred in 1813, at which time Mr. Miller was nine years old, and what he then saw and heard concerning these Indian murders was indelibly stamped upon his memory. His ver- sion of them is in my judgment substantially cor- rect as to time, place and circumstances. I give them as he gave them to me.
Buskirk was killed while gathering pumpkins in what was afterwards the north-west corner of my father's farm adjoining Brownstown. The In- dian crept upon him and shot him with his own gun, which he had leaned against a tree. The fact of his death having reached the fort at Val- lonia, a squad of several mounted men repaired to the place and buried him, and on their return,
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when near what was for many years known as Cheeney Hill, one of their number, a Mr. Sturgeon, who had been drinking pretty freely, proposed be- ing the first one to reach the fort, and in spite of their remonstrance and warning of danger he clap- ped spurs to his horse and dashed ahead. He had scarcely disappeared from their sight when the re- port of a volley of rifles gave suggestion of his probable fate. The squad raised a yell and spur- ring forward reached the crest of the hill in time to see their unfortunate comrade struggling upon the ground at the foot of it, and three or four In- dians surrounding and striking him with their tomahawks in the most vigorous manner. At the sight of the approaching yelling squad the Indi- ans fled, and the squad, without a moment's halt, made for the fort at the utmost speed of their horses. It was near night-fall when they reached it. A call for volunteers to bring in the murdered man was at once made, and failing to meet with a prompt response, Mr. Miller's mother, "Aunt Peggy" as she was known in our day, stimulated the volunteering by declaring that if the men didn't go she and the women would. A rescuing party of five, accompanied by a lot of fierce dogs, as hostile to Indians as their owners, and infalli- ble at detecting their presence, proceeded in the dark to the Durham branch, where they found the dead body of the man. And now using the words of Mr. Miller as written by him in a memorandum and handed me for publication, "Rich Beem, John Neely and Adam Miller were the three men who tied the dead man up while the other two stood guard." The party returned without molestation to the fort, and Mr. Miller was a looker-on and by the light of burning torches saw them untie the blanket in which they had brought the body, and saw them examine the ghastly wounds made by the tomahawks-one in particular was indellibly stamped upon his memory, a frightful one that was inflicted on the top of the head, which was quite bald by reason of age. He had not been scalped. His horse being on the run when fired upon, only one shot of four or five, perhaps, struck him and it took effect on "the wrist of his bridle hand," and had it not been that his horse
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shied and dashed over the little bank to the left of the road and thrown its rider, it would have brought him in safety to the fort, which it reached a few minutes afterwards. The Indians fired from an ambush behind a log a few paces to the right of the road at the descent of the hill. My mother had "the blind" pointed out to her when she passed that way for the first time some six or seven years afterward, and she located the spot to me a number of times in the early years of my life. Mr. Miller, like his brother Jackson, was a sober, truthful man, not given to fabrication, and I know of no more reliable source of correct in- formation as to the events related herein than is derived from him who say in part and who heard the particulars related at the time of their occur- rence, and that over and over again by those who had personal knowledge of all the circumstances. Their father, Abram Miller, and their mother, Ann Margaret (Aunt Peggy) lie side by side in the grave yard at Brownstown., He departing this life in Dec. 1856, at the age of 83 and she in July 1865, at the age of eighty.
Very Respectfully, John H. Benton.
Washington, D. C. January 30th, 1893.
Thursday, February 23, 1893
Early History of Jackson County By John H. Benton, Washington, D. C.
February 13th, 1893.
Dear Sir :- I have seen and talked with Mr. John Ketcham a prominent figure in the early his- tory of our county. It was at the close of a lovely day in May, 1855, that I was seated at the north portico of the state-house at Indianapolis, when a portly, elderly, well-to-do looking gentleman approached and after an interchange of saluta- tions, seated himself on the step near me, and a colloquy somewhat as follows ensued: "Well," be- gan the gentleman, "I suppose that you, like my- self, are a visitor to the city." An affirmative an-
£
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EARLY JACKSON COUNTY HISTORY
swer was followed by an inquiry as to what part of the country I was from. The answer that I was from Brownstown, in Jackson county, elicited, after a moments hesitation, the remark, "Well I suppose then you have heard of John Ketcham?" "Yes, indeed" was our response, "He was the pro- prietor of our town." "Well, sir, I'm the very man", was his announcement that made our "heart of heart" rejoice. Thereupon a long hour's talk followed in which Vallonia and Brownstown and the brave men who began to people those lo- calities, while the Indian was "abroad in the land" were the topics of his most entertaining discourse.
Mr. Ketcham I am informed died at his home in Monroe Co., in 1864, at the age of 87, and from this date, he was 79 years of age at the time of our interview, though I should judge him to have been a dozen years at least short of that age. It has been a matter of regret to me of late years that I did not commit to writing at the time the substance of what he said to me concerning the men and incidents of those early times of which he retained a most distinct recollection.
This fact, however, was well impressed upon my memory that so far as the facts and circum- stances of the Indian murders of 1812-13 are con- cerned, his relation of them agreed substantially with that of Mr. Frederick Miller, recently pub- lished in the Banner. And it was likewise in harmony with those of Mr. Hugh A. Findley and Mr. George W. Hays that I received in repeated conversation and soon afterward.
Mr. Findley, it is true, did not come to our county till 1819, some six or seven years after the occurrence of these events; but being possessed of an unusually retentive memory as to facts and their attending circumstances even to the minutest particular, whatever he related upon the information of others as to these much talked of events is entitled to the fullest credence. As his account of the killing of Buskirk and Sturgeon would be but a repetition of Mr. Miller's the mere mention of their concurrence will suffice, and so I proceed with his narrative of the killing of a Mr. Doan.
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This unfortunate man, who lived on or near Mr. Findley's late homestead place, had spent the night with a Mr. Lindsey,-the family name of Mr. Findley's wife, who lived on or near the McCormick place. As there were indications of Indians in the morning, Lindsey dissuaded him from leaving for his home; but as the day advanced, and the fall of rain subsided, his fear vanished and he determined to venture, and so mounting his beast and shoulder- ing his gun, he set out. He had gone but a short distance, when, descending the steep bank of a little stream, or ravine now crossed by the Browns- town and Seymour road, a few hundred yards west of the Findely farm house, an Indian concealed in a hollow tree standing on the opposite bank, fired upon him through an opening in the tree and shot him dead,-the ball, if I remember right, striking him square in the forehead. He pitched head long from his horse into the water, and his gun, which was probably carried on his shoulder, was also pitched forward, muzzle-end downward and imbedded in the soft mud, at the bottom of the ra- vine, then well filled with water; and there it was found standing soon afterward, when his scalped remains were found and taken away for burial.
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