USA > Indiana > Marion County > Indianapolis > Early reminiscences of Indianapolis, with short biographical sketches of its early citizens, and a few of the prominent business men of the present day > Part 17
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33
He was a man of unostentatious piety, unobtrusive and re- tiring in his manners, and enjoyed the confidence and respect of all who knew him. He has been dead many years, but his memory still lives fresh in the hearts and minds of his many friends, and his goodness leaves a fragrance behind.
REV. EDWIN RAY.
This talented young minister, in connection with Constant B. Jones, was assigned to the Indianapolis Circuit in the fall of 1826. The circuit then embraced several of the adjoining counties, and it took two weeks to make the round, so that one of them was here every Sunday, and the same one every other Sunday.
They preached in the old log church on the south side of Maryland, on the corner of the alley between Meridian and Illinois streets. It is a well known fact that young ministers have, from time immemorial, possessed the faculty of gather- ing into their congregations the young ladies of all denomi- nations, as well as those outside the pale of any church.
It is not surprising, then, that the young minister above named should exercise a similar influence, as he was young, talented and good-looking, and just at that period of life when
224
Early Reminiscences.
ministers, as well as worldly people, are supposed to be look- ing for a partner for life.
Suffice it to say that every other Sunday, at least, the beauty and fashion, as well as those that were not the beauty and fashion, of Indianapolis, were assembled in that log church ; old maids primped their mouths, and young ones cast their glances and sly looks.
The old maids and mothers were not slow in discovering that the young minister was frequently found accompanying one of the young ladies home who was not a member of the flock, and, oh, what solicitude for the safety of the church, and the cause of our blessed Redeemer, was felt and mani- fested by them.
There was a family of five of those church and moral guar- dians more exercised than the rest; they thought that should the young minister bestow his affections outside the church Methodism would suffer beyond redemption.
The consequence was, that great preparations were made for the young minister when he should have accomplished his semi-monthly round ; invitations were showered upon him to dine, take tea, etc. Many a yellow-legged chicken's head paid the penalty for the young minister's indiscretions.
Those old maids last referred to usually dressed very plain, in the good old Methodist style; now, it was noticed that a curl sometimes hung down behind the ear, supposed to be in- tended for the minister's eye, as he was pouring forth the word of God to his devout congregation.
At last one of them, more solicitous for the welfare of the church than the others, ventured to approach him on the sub- ject, and wanted to know if he was aware that the young lady to whom he was paying attention danced : "Yes, she dances," said she ; " Oh my, my, my, brother Ray, she dances ; how can people be so wicked and sinful !" The only reply she
225
T. R. Fletcher.
elicited, and comfort she got in her interview with the minis- ter, was, " the wilder the colt the tamer the horse."
The young minister married outside the church, the church survived the shock, and now, instead of the old log church we have eight or ten magnificent Methodist Churches inside of the city limits, and at least two hundred within the terri- tory that then composed his circuit.
Edwin Ray was a man of marked ability, perseverance and industry. He studied and mastered the Latin and Greek lan- guages on horseback, traveling from one appointment to an ยท other, and had he lived even to the meridian of life, would have ranked among the first theologians of the country.
He fell a victim to his industry and zeal in the cause in which he was engaged, and died at the house of a friend on the Otter Creek Prairie, in Vigo County, on the 15th day of September, 1831, in the 29th year of his age.
He was born in Montgomery County; Kentucky, near Mt. Sterling, and there entered the ministry, but soon came to Indiana, where there was a wider field for usefulness.
He had but two children, a son and daughter; the daugh- ter has deceased several years since ; the son, John W. Ray, is the present Commissioner in Bankruptcy of Indiana, and a resident of this city.
T. R. FLETCHER
Came to Indianapolis a boy in July, 1836, and engaged as a clerk in the dry goods store of Fletcher & Bradley. After the dissolution of partnership of this firm, his uncle, Stough- ton A. Fletcher, being the successor, he continued with him as clerk, and then as partner, for several years, and since with his uncle sometime in the banking business. He was success- ful in the accumulation of money while he was with his uncle, and made this city his home.
226
Early Reminiscences.
He left this place some few years since. For awhile he re- sided at Chicago ; now, I believe, he is at Dayton, Ohio.
About the year 1845 the name of Dick Fletcher, as well as that of Horace Fletcher, William Stewart, Ben and Henry Horn, were as familiar as household words to the people of Indianapolis.
Mr. Fletcher was considered a first-class business man, and possessed more than an ordinary financial ability, and with his strict integrity won the confidence and respect of all who knew him.
BAZIL BROWN,
Like many others I have sketched in this work, would have to be seen to be properly appreciated in personal appearance. I have never seen anything that resembled him, except the English caricature of John Bull; indeed, he possessed many of the qualities claimed for that amiable gentleman by his admirers; his weight would be at least three hundred pounds avoirdupois.
He was a very active man. I have seen him jump from the floor of his bar-room and kick the ceiling, which was of the ordinary height.
He was an extraordinary man in many particulars. He did not know a letter in the alphabet, yet he was well informed on most all subjects, especially political. He was blessed with a very retentive memory, and when he onee learned anything it was indelibly stamped upon his mind, and after his wife had read to him from the "Cincinnati Inquirer," " Washington Globe," or " New York Herald," he would quote from them more correct than many persons who had read for themselves ; he would speak of what he had seen in them, and used lan- guage that would lead a stranger to believe he was a finely educated man, when, in fact, he would not know his own name if he should see it in print.
227
Bazil Brown.
I was an inmate of the same house with him one year, and have often read the papers to him, and in five minutes after would hear him telling what he had seen in them.
He came to this place from Princeton in the fall of 1829, and kept for many years the principal hotel in the place, which was the Democratic headquarters of the city, as well as that of members of the Legislature.
It was his custom to retire early in the evening, and was the first to rise in the morning. His clerk, Charles Stevens, before closing the house at night, would make out the bills of such travelers as were to leave early in the morning, and Mr. Brown would collect them.
One morning he handed a stranger his bill; the man said "read it to me." Says Mr. B., "I would rather you would read it for yourself." "No," said the man, "you had better read it." Mr. B., shaking his head, said, "I have never read my customers' bills for them." "Well, I can't read," said the man. "Neither can I," said Brown. A bystander had to be called to read it for them.
Mr. Brown was very fond of the society of ladies, and when he wished to spend an evening with them had a very good ex- cuse to furnish the old lady, in the fact that he was a Mason, and was going to the lodge.
While myself and wife were boarding at the same house with him, we often called in his room to see Mrs. Brown. One evening, while we were there, the old gentleman came to the door; addressing his wife, he said : " Well, mother, when you get ready you can retire, I am going to the lodge." " Well, well," said she, "when you get through at the lodge come home." After the old man had left, she addressed my wife, looking me in the eye, "Melie, when you get old and ugly like grandma, Johnny will be going to the lodge, too."
I am happy to say that, although Mr. Brown was very
228
Early Reminiscences.
assiduous in his attendance upon the lodge, it never created any unpleasantness between him and the old lady.
Their greatest trouble was the lack of children of their own. They were very fond of them, but Providence had so decreed that no little Browns should cheer their fireside.
When Mr. Brown kept hotel he made his bar-room a very interesting place to his guests, and others that might call, by his inexhaustible fund of anecdotes, which he told with a gusto, and never failed to amuse his auditory.
He died on the 2d of February, 1849, and his remains lie in one of the city cemeteries.
STEPHEN PITTS
Came to the vicinity of this place in the year 1827, and soon rose to distinction in his profession-that of trapper and hun- ter ; indeed, there were but few coons within twenty miles of this place but knew him by reputation, and none wished to extend it to a personal acquaintance ; or if they knew of his intention to call on them, would make it convenient to be from home, or, like the ladies of the present day, have him told so ; or, if he should come upon them unexpectedly, they would, like Captain Scott's coon, come down and surrender, sometimes without a struggle.
He was familiar with every " otter slide," or musk rat hole, between Strawtown and the bluffs of White River, and many an unsuspecting mink fell a victim to his deep laid schemes.
Mr. Pitts was a man that minded his own business, paid his debts, voted the unterrified Democratic ticket, and worshipped God according to his own conscience ; he was a back-woods- man in every sense of the word. He died many years since.
His only surviving son, George W. Pitts, yet resides in the city, and is one of the coolest men, in his business transactions, we have ever known : however, he is not willing to confine his coolness to himself, but is anxious to keep his neighbors cool,
229
Thomas McOuat.
also, at the rate of twenty-five cents per 'hundred weight : where his father once speared the salmon, trapped the otter and shot the musk rat, George now cuts and gathers his beautiful crystal ice.
He also has a daughter, the wife of John L. McCormick. one of our most enterprising and industrious master carpen- ters, who is the nephew of John McCormick, who built the first log cabin in Indianapolis.
THOMAS MCOUAT
Was born and raised in Falkirk, Scotland, and came to the United States and settled in Lexington in the year 1816; in 1818 he was married to the daughter of George Lockerbie, another of Scotia's sons, whose sketch will follow this.
Mr. McOuat first visited Indianapolis in the fall of 1821, in attendance upon the sale of lots that occurred on the 10th of October of that year. He purchased several lots, some of which are yet owned by his heirs. He did not move to this place until the fall of 1830.
In the spring of 1831 he bought a stock of goods at Louis- ville, Kentucky, and shipped them for this port " on that ele- gant double-decker, lower-cabin, fast-sailing steamer 'The General Hanna,' " and took a first-class passage himself. It was four weeks from the time the noble steamer entered the mouth of White River until she entered this port. Mr. Mc- Ouat's family not hearing from him after they left Louisville un- til their arrival here, were very uneasy about him. Nor was his situation a pleasant one. As the steamer wound her way along the meanderings of the river, I have no doubt he often thought of the land of the thistle, "Ye banks and braes of bonny doon," and other beautiful streams of his native land ; he had time, and the circumstances were calculated to inspire medi- tation. As he was the only person that ever traveled as a steamboat passenger from Louisville to this place, I hope the
230
Early Reminiscences.
reader will pardon a digression from the main subject, and should I get somewhat poetical when writing of our own beau- tiful White River, I would still ask forbearance, as 'tis but seldom anything of the kind drops from the point of my pen.
As the beautiful river winds its serpentine course through the south-western portion of the State, its waters are covered from either bank with various hanging wood and vines, calcu- lated to inspire the solitary passenger with thoughts of the great Creator and the majesty of his works. But by the stroke of the woodman's ax those beautiful scenes have been removed and have disappeared, as well as all hope of navigating White River successfully by steam; and its placid waters have ever been undisturbed by the paddles of a steamer, with the ex- ception of those of the late "Governor Morton."
And now, instead of the scenery I have described, we have in their place those beautiful farms extending from this city to the mouth of the river, which show that the hardy pioneer had been there and brought with him a liberal share of intel- ligence and industry, and has made the wilderness the happy homes of thousands yet unborn. But enough of this.
Mr. McOuat was a man devoted to his family and the en- joyment of home, and the society of friends. With the Seotch poet, he might well exclaim :
" I view with mair than kingly pride My hearth a heaven : O, rapture, My Mary's hand in mine will glide As Jockie reads the chapter."
Mr. MeOuat died in the fall of 1838, a year long to be re- membered for sickness and mortality. He left a wife and a family of several children.
George, the eldest son-what shall I say of George, farther than that he is one of the wheel-horses that drew the Demo- cratic wagon, and has never tired, even when the load was heavy and the feed was light, but ever ready at his post ; and when the wagon got in the mud (as it has sometimes), he put
231
George Lockerbie.
his herculean strength to it and did all in his power to get it out. He is one of the business men of the city, owns some fine property, and enjoys the unbounded confidence and re- spect of all who know him.
Robert L. and Andrew are engaged in the wholesale and retail stove, tin ware and house-furnishing business, and arc much respected for their probity and their universal kind and accommodating disposition to their customers, and liberality to the church and benevolent institutions.
The eldest daughter, Elizabeth, is the wife of Ovid Butler, Esq., a retired lawyer, and one of our most exemplary Chris- tians and worthy citizens. Another daughter is the wife of Obed Foote, of Paris, Illinois, son of Obed Foote, Esq., one of the carly citizens of this city.
"Dear to my spirit, Scotland, hast thou been, Since infant years, in all thy glens of green. Land of my birth, where every sound and sight Comes in soft melody, or melts in light. Land of the green wood, by the silver rill, The heather and the daisy of the hill.' The guardian thistle to the foeman stern. The wild rose, hawthorn, and the lady fern."
GEORGE LOCKERBIE.
This Birkie " old Scotch gentleman " was born and raised in Dumfries, South of Scotland. He came to the United States in the year 1809, and for several years lived in Phila- delphia. He then migrated to Lexington, Kentucky, and there resided until the year 1831, when he removed to this place.
Mr. Lockerbie was a man of more than ordinary native tal- ent, well read and conversant with Scottish authors, particu- larly with the writings and poems of Robert Burns, his favor- ite author.
He had a quotation on the tip of his tongue for most all
232
Early Reminiscences.
occasions. How oft have we heard the old gentleman quo- ting this-
" Some books are lies fra end to end, And some great lies were never penned. E'en ministers, they ha been ken'd In holy rapture, A rousing whid at times to vend And nair twa Scripture."
I have often seen him and his old friend, the late Judge Morrison, together talking of the father-land, and relating anecdotes and incidents connected with it. He was a man of great vivacity and life, and his society was almost a sure anti- dote for hypocondria ; his very appearance indicated goodness of heart, honesty of purpose and cheerfulness and content- ment of mind, a smile and playful remark for all. The old man was fond of a glass of Scotch ale or beer, and would ac- company his glass with this sentiment :
" We are na fon, we're na that's fon But just a droppie in our ee ; The cock may craw, the day may daw But aye, we'll taste barley brie."
In height he was about five feet eight or nine inches, quite fleshy, round, smooth features, a florid complexion, full, ruddy cheeks that hung down, and when he laughed his whole body seemed to enjoy it.
Mr. Lockerbie was invested with a certain dignity, suffi- cient to produce a respect that would have been denied an or- dinary man, and always commanded it from the high as well as low, either of whom he treated with the same courtesy and gentlemanly demeanor.
He was proud of his nativity, and loved to talk of the land of the thistle. He possessed much of the agility of youth, with a considerable degree of strength for one of his ad- vanced age.
He has a daughter, Mrs. McOuat, and several grand child- ren living in the city, of whom I have spoken in the preced-
233
Joseph Lofton.
ing sketch. He died in the year 1856, regretted by all who knew him, and is worthy this epitaph, written by his favorite author :
" An honest man here lies at rest, As e'er God with his image blest. The friend of man, the friend of truth, The friend of age, and guide of youth. Few hearts like his with virtue warmed ; Few heads with knowledge so informed. If there's another world he lives in bliss ; If there is none, he made the best of this."
JOSEPH LOFTON,
The father of Doctors Sample and Alman Lofton, and Joseph, was a native of Davidson County, North Carolina. He came to Marion County, and lived awhile in Pike township, in the year 1827 ; he then returned to his native State for a short time, but again came to Indiana, and lived a short time in Lawrence County, but was not satisfied until he was again a citizen of Pike township, where he died.
Mr. Lofton was a Jackson man, and a warm supporter of the old hero in all his campaigns for the Presidency, and af- terward a strong and warm friend and member of the Demo- cratic party. He is well represented in that particular by his three sons above alluded to.
Joseph is one of the wheel-horses of the party in Pike township, and 'tis said can make as long and as strong a pull, when the load is heavy and roads are bad, as any one ; though he is a poor horse to go down hill, he can't be made to back and wants to go as fast as possible ; neither does he ever look back or balk, but always keeps his collar warm and dislikes to pull with a cold one. He is one of the prosperous farmers of the county, and trades a great deal in stock of all kinds.
Dr. Sample Lofton is also a farmer, of Wayne township, and trader, and furnished the government with many fine horses during the war.
10H
234
Early Reminiscences.
Dr. Alman Lofton is a practicing physician of Augusta, in the northwest portion of the county, and is universally re- spected as a man as well as a physician.
Neither of the M. D.'s will allow Joseph to outdo them in their devotion to the old party and its principles, although it forms a considerable portion of his religion.
The three brothers are large, fine-looking men, and in their personal appearance indicate that they are in the enjoyment of a goodly share of this word's goods, with philosophy enough to enjoy life as they go along, and in the possession of cheerful dispositions, casting a glow of good feelings around them, and Joseph's smiling countenance "smiles to the smil- ing morrow," and with his social qualities and large fund of anecdotes which he relates to his numerous friends, renders him a very interesting personage.
JOHN F. HILL
Came to Indianapolis a mere boy in May, 1830, from near Ur- bana, Champaign County, Ohio, where he was born on the 24th of October, 1812. Mr. Hill became a pupil of Thomas D. Gregg, who at that time taught school on the corner of Market and Delaware streets, where "the young idea was taught to fire."
He then engaged with the Steam Mill Company as a clerk in their store for three years, at a salary of thirty dollars for the first year, to be doubled every year until the expiration of the term of his engagement; for the entire three years' services he received two hundred and ten dollars, less than some clerks in Indianapolis now get for one month.
After a short respite he re-engaged with the same company, which was composed of James Blake, James M. Ray, Nicho- las McCarty and Joseph M. Moore, and remained with them until the year 1848. He was then offered and accepted a partnership with Daniel and James Yandes. They, as part-
235
John F. Hill.
ners, did business three years ; then, as partner of Isaac N. Phipps & Co., afterwards with W. W. Wright & Co., then as Hill & Wright. Finding that close confinement was impair- ing his health, he quit the mercantile business and engaged in the manufacture of brick with S. V. B. Noel as a partner ; in 1850 changed partners, engaged with Levi Rogers in the same business, and in 1856 was a partner of the late James J. Drum in the wholesale grocery business. Of the many partners that Mr. Hill has had, from time to time, all are liv- ing with the exception of his brother-in-law, Mr. Drum; and of the many persons he did business for but two have passed away, viz., Mr. McCarty and Joseph M. Moore.
Mr. Hill is now engaged in the nursery business in the east- ern confines of the city, where he owns many acres, for which he has been offered one thousand dollars per acre. He owns a fine private residence on North Alabama, between Market and Ohio streets; so the reader will readily perceive he has not slept away the forty years he has been a resident of In- dianapolis.
He is the brother of the first wife of the late Calvin Fletcher, likewise a brother of that staid old farmer, Mr. James Hill, who, also, resides near the city, and looks as though he had a common lifetime yet before him.
Another brother, William, yet lives in the vicinity, but the writer for the past few years has lost track of him, but has no doubt that where e'er he be he is trying to " turn an hon- est penny," as was ever his wont to do.
236
Early Reminiscences.
In the "Indianapolis Gazette " of December 25, 1827, I find this allegory. It was supposed at the time to have been written by the editor, Mr. N. Bolton, and that he intended it (although figuratively) to apply to his uncle, Mr. Nathaniel Cox.
AN ALLEGORY.
" Truth under fiction I impart, To weed out folly from the heart." -. MOORE.
December spread her frosts around, And with her whitest snows she dressed
The rich, black earth ; the frozen ground ; Dame nature's cold and chilly breast.
To sweat, and cure my ague chills, I took my morning's early race ;
It led me through thickets, over hills Where nature wore a " blue-cold " face. Seated upon a walnut log,
I gnawed upon my morning prog. The trees cracked quite o'er me
To Boreas' loud blast, The sun shined before me ; The stream is froze fast.
When lo! I saw a human form Shivering before me stand,
Clad quite too light to stand a storm, He held to me his hand.
His robe was hanging on his back, His hat a great raccoon-skin cap, His eye mocked ebony ; so black And scowling deep that eye did snap. Such features, and afraid to run, In true Dutch rage I cried, Good, sir. don't shoot me with that gun " Mistake me not," the man replied ; "I am, bold sir, a hunter brave; My house is in yon morass fair,
But hunting lodges still I have, All thro' the woods as well as there.
237
An Allegory.
O'er bluff and brook ; o'er stump and stick, Thro' this great wild I roam around ; I have a blind at every lick, High or low ; on tree or ground. Apart from human creatures I Have lived e'er since I was a boy ; I shoot the wild geese soaring high ; Come see me squirrel nests destroy ; Go where deep Pogue creek's waters dash, And o'er old sodden logs down pour, 'Twas I that peeled that big swamp ash, I burnt that hollow sycamore. I mustered many a dog and pup, I gave command ; a fox they chased ; I ripped, when caught, his bowels up; "Twas I that gave to each a taste. A ground hog ran up sapling tall, At him I took a deadly aim ; By bullet then I made him fall, By death his carcass lay quite tame. Possums all have feared my dogs, E'er since one rainy day, In hollow trees and hollow logs, Full forty they did slay ; Or since we watched the pigeon roost, Or eke the turkey's nest ; By night they made some bite the dust, By day I shot the rest.
These shall suffice :- yet I could name A thousand muskrats I have skinned ; A thousand more now dread my fame, Their ranks, like me, no man e'er thinn'd.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.