USA > Indiana > Whitley County > History of Whitley County, Indiana > Part 20
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The first term of court held in Whitley county was at the saw mill of Richard Baughan, in Thorncreek township, on the 9th day of April. 1839.
Whitley county is one of the best coun- ties in Indiana, now the best state in our union of states. All Indianans will admit this. If the stranger denies it, we will con- vince him with ready proof.
The present generation of men and women living in northern Indiana ought to be the best that any state can show, for you sprang from noble men and women coming from the east and from the south- land. The reason for the possession of no-
bility of character and steadfastness of pur- pose of the pioneer of this county is easy to find. They were men of courage for the coward heard of the savage men and the savage beast had not yet left, and said: "I guess I will remain awhile," and he re- mained in some quiet peaceful home among the New England hills, or in the cotton fields of the south. They were men and women with a purpose in life, and when they reached the conclusion to come, they put their children in the wagon and started. No lazy, thriftless couple started, or, if they did. they never got through the Black Swamp.
They were not men of any considerable amount of money-only enough to buy a little home at one dollar and twenty-five cents an acre and support the wife and chil- dren until they could see the corn silk and potato bloom on their own lands: the old man of the barns remained at home and said. "Soul, take thy ease." What a fool he was. This was no country to attract the worshiper of gold or the idle dreamer of visions of ease and pleasure. but the hard stern facts faced them that they must labor and wait.
It was no miracle then that the noblest type of God's men and women came to settle in this good land.
It is written in history that at the battle of Gettysburg, when the Confederate line was thrown into confusion and retreat and the whole Confederate army was in danger of stampede, their greatest commander, Lee, stood on the retreating line and simply said, "All good soldiers will stop here." The soldier in gray heard the words and turned his face to the enemy, and order was re- stored in the Confederate army. So, it is
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no miracle or incident of chance that the best inen and women should come to settle this land, or that their children should be men and women of real worth and honor, for it is a fulfillment of the laws that God has ordained.
I feel that I am but a boy yet, but re- membering back almost sixty years, I can think of some of the things that I now feel that the pioneer might complain about with- out being charged with ingratitude. Those of us who were raised on ague and mosqui- toes would naturally think of these as the first hardships. I cannot explain to these young ladies and gentlemen what the ague was, but you old settlers know what it was. When the chill first came on we were afraid we would die, but when the fever took hold of us we were afraid we would not die. Talk about discouraging conditions. Go to my home fifty-eight years ago. Mother almost dead from the bite of a rattlesnake, fourteen children with the ague and father away from home hunting for bread. These were not altogether unusual conditions found in the homes of this county sixty years ago.
Roads -- well, we had none, in the sense which you now talk about roads. Think of going from here to Columbia City or Fort Wayne, through an undisturbed forest, with only here and there a tree blazed or a small sapling cut away. Well, we have no time to talk about these things to-day, and, that they are now past. no disposition to complain, for they might have been much worse.
Our opportunities to acquire the most common education were meager indeed. Sixty days school in the year, often a sub-
scription school and many of us our parents too poor to pay for more than half their children of school age. There were no red schoolhouses in those days-only the log schoolhouse with stick chimney. I can de- scribe to you my first school and my teacher, which I believe a fair sample of teachers and schoolhouses in this county fifty-four years ago. The house stood about half way be- tween this point and my home, four miles from here and was called the "Scott school- house"-a plain log house with inverted slabs for seats and greased paper for lights. situated on the margin of a beautiful swamp : and, remember, the builders were no re- spector of persons, for they built all seats of the same height. My first teacher was Elder Fuller, who had his blacksmith shop at the other end of this lake, who pounded iron the most of the time, preached the gos- pel on Sunday, and pounded the bad boys for sixty days in the year, and with all his preaching and pounding I do not think he realized three hundred dollars per year. Oh, how well I remember my first recitation -if I dare call it that-"Come here. lad," he said, pointing to me. I arose and ap- proached. Taking from my hand the old elementary speller and, pointing with a tun- ing fork to the first letter of the alphabet. he said, "What is that?" I meekly con- fessed I did not know. He said, "That is the letter A. it looks for all the world like the gable end of your father's barn. Say "A." I said "\" and he said, "Take your seat." And I have ever after known the letter "A" when I saw it. Elder Fuller was a noble specimen of good manhood, a preacher of force and learning. Peace to his soul and may we meet more like him.
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My experience was your experience, and I must leave most of it with you to think about to-day.
We cannot close without a few words to the young ladies and gentlemen who have met with us.
Young friends, you have a right to be proud of your ancestry and of your county. I pity the man who has ever found a better woman than his own mother, or a better country than his own country. You begin life in the very morning of the world's his- tory. I would rather live the next fifty years than to live the nine hundred and sixty-nine years of Methuselah, who did nothing but watch oxen eat grass.
If you would be happy, try to make others happy about you, and remember that
"No soul ever entered heaven alone, But save another soul and that Will save your own."
Do your duty. This is the only way to success. When the boy boarded the man of war, the old captain said, "Lad, we have only two things aboard this ship : one is duty and the other is mutiny."
You remember the story from "The Tales from the Wayside Inn," where the devout monk prayed for the higher and better life, and as he prayed the angel of the Lord appears, and as he listened to the words of the angel the convent bell rang out call- ing him to feed the beggars; he hesitated. but the angel said, "Go, do your duty." He went and fed the beggars, and on his return found the angel still there, who said, "If you had remained I must have left."
More than fifty years ago I learned to recite to my teacher, that good and brave
soldier, Capt. Will N. Vorris, now of Albion, this almost forgotten poem :
"How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood
When fond recollection presents them to view :
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood and every
Fond spot that my infancy knew.
The broad spreading river, the mill that stood near it ;
The bridge, the rock where the cataract fell,
The cot of my father, the dairy house by it, Even the rude bucket which hung in the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket, The moss covered bucket that hung in the well.
The moss covered bucket I hailed as a treasure
When often at noon returning from the field
I found it a source of exquisite pleasure. The sweetest and best that nature can yield.
How ardently I received it with hands all aglow :
Soon to the white pebbled bottom it fell, Soon returning with the emblem of life overflowing,
All dripping with coolness it rose from the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket, The moss covered bucket that hung in the well.
How quick to receive from its moss covered rim
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As it poised on the curb and inclined to my lips,
Not a full flowing goblet would tempt me to leave it Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips. Now far removed from the scenes of my childhood
A tear of regret intrusively swells As I think of my father's plantation
And long for the bucket that hung in the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket. The moss covered bucket that hung in the well."
THE WHITLEY COUNTY OFFICIALS' FRATERNAL ASSOCIATION.
Whitley county has an organization that is unique, and the only one of the kind in the state, as far as the writer has been able to learn. It is the Whitley County Officials Fraternal Association, and all present county officers and their deputies, all ex-county of- ficers, their deputies and all persons who have held an official position in the county. are entitled to membership.
In the spring of 1903, it was suggested that there be held a reunion of the ex- sheriffs of Whitley county, and a meeting for that purpose was called to be held at Sheriff Gallagher's office on the 19th of March. At that time, ten ex-sheriffs of Whitley county were living, namely: John IV. Wynkoop, who had served from 1862 to 1866, Oliver P. Koontz, 1866 to 1870, Jacob W. Miller, 1870 to 1874, William H. Liggett, 1874 to 1878, Franklin P. Allwein, 1880 to 1884, Leander Lower, 1884 to 1888, William W. Hollipeter, 1888 to 1890, John W. McNabb, 1890 to 1894, Thomas N. Hughes, 1894 to 1896, and Benjamin F. Hull, 1896 to 1900; Edward L. Gallagher being sheriff at that time.
The meeting was accordingly held, and Oliver P. Koontz was chosen president and Edward L. Gallagher, secretary-treasurer.
At the meeting. it was voted to organize a permanent association and invite all other county officers and ex-county officers to be- come members, and afterwards it was voted to extend the invitation to all persons who had occupied an official position in the county, whether principal or deputy, and it was arranged to hold an annual meeting of the association on the second Thursday in October in each year, to be followed by a banquet in the evening.
The first annual meeting of the associa- tion was held at the circuit court room on Thursday, October 8, 1903, at which time Oliver P. Koontz was re-elected president and E. L. Gallagher, secretary-treasurer.
An incident of this meeting may be men- tioned here: Rev. A. J. Douglas, who had served as county superintendent of schools for ten years and who at that time was in quite feeble healtli, was reported to be in the basement of the building and very desirous of attending the meeting, but unable to ascend the stairs. Accordingly, the presi- dent appointed Frederick Nei. ex-commis- sioner, and Richard H. Maring, ex-clerk, to assist Mr. Douglas up stairs. He was placed in a large chair and carried up stairs where he enjoyed the meeting very much.
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A banquet was held at the Clugston house in the evening. Hon. . I. A. Adams, ex-representative, acting as toast master. Judge Adair. C. S. Williams, coroner, W. H. Liggett. ex-sheriff, and S. P. Kaler, ex-clerk, making the principal speeches.
The next meeting of the association was held on Thursday, October 13, 1904, when Col. I. B. McDonald, who had served as clerk of the court nearly fifty years before and also had served the county as representa- tive, state senator and county school superin- tendent, was chosen president, and Jesse A. Glassley, present clerk, was made secretary- treasurer.
A banquet was held in the evening. the ladies of the United Brethren church sery- ing the supper, Benjamin F. Menaugh, ex- mayor of the city and ex-deputy sheriff, act- ing as toast master, and Henry McLallen. ex-treasurer, W. H. Liggett, ex-sheriff and George H. Tapy, present county superin- tendent, making the principal addresses.
The third meeting of the association was held on Thursday evening, October 12. 1905, when Jacob W. Miller, ex-sheriff, was elected president, and Charles E. Lancaster. present auditor, was made secretary-treas- urer. The ladies of the United Brethren church again served the supper at the ban- quiet in the evening, and Hon. Thomas R. Marshall, ex-notary public, was toast master. Judge Olds responded to the toast: "Early Recollections of the Bench:" Col. Mc- Donald spoke on "Early Recollections of County Officers:" R. H. Maring spoke on the "Pioneer," and John W. Baker re- sponded to the subject, "Republican News- papers."
Ex-Sheriff Liggett, at the 1904 banquet,
had for his subject: "1874:" his address was of a historical nature and is as follows:
"I am only human, and that is the reason nothing pleases me better than to see my name in the paper. When I saw my name in the paper the other day. as one of those who were to talk to you this evening about "1874," I felt first rate-better than I do now that the time has arrived to do the talking. There is more pleasure, it is said. in anticipation than in realization.
Beforehand. I always imagine a goo.1 many things that don't come to pass, and I get puffed up over the nice things I think I am going to say, and the nice things that will be said about the nice things I have said. I make amends, by feeling extremely humble for some time after, however.
Imagine how I felt thirty years ago when all the newspapers of one side anyway heralded my virtues far and near. I felt pretty good. Did I step high? Yes, sir; I could have stepped over a bank barn. That is, along at first : but when I saw what the Post said about me. I shrank up like one of those rubber balls you buy on show days that are full to bursting when you buy them, but as soon as you squeeze them a little, they collapse on your hands to about the size of a walnut.
I don't see how the newspapers can take just a common man-or, well, a mule, and make a lion of him, and by punching him a few times turn him back into a mule again- but they can. This remark is not intended to reflect in any way upon myself or any one else. Perhaps the newspapers can get some consolation out of it and will comment on it.
The year 1874 is indelibly fixed upon my
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memory, for in 1874 I emerged from ob- scurity and became great. Some men are born great-some achieve greatness and some, like myself, get into the band wagon by accident, the team runs away and carries them to the front of the procession.
Becoming great is like getting rich-it is no sign of mental superiority-but mostly luck. Many a man gets all skinned up in his efforts to become rich or great. The chances are that if I got into the band wagon now, the mules would run away in the wrong direction and break my neck ; and I should be greatly missed : something, too. I should greatly regret.
There have been great changes in Whitley county since I burst like a comet on the horizon of politics. The swamps and swales that were then the abode of the mos- quito and the home of the perfumed cat. now produce thousands of bushels of oderiferous onions-not very much differ- ence in the perfume perhaps, though the "cents" are in favor of the onions. But I will leave this matter to be discussed by some of the other speakers. I could talk to you for an hour on skunks and onions, but that would be too much like discussing poli- tics, and I do not want to do that this evening.
When one has become great, either by accident or design, he writes-or has some- body write for him-a minute history of his life, beginning with his childhood and gradually leading up to his magnificent man- hood, when the newspapers, for considera- tion, take him up and so advertise his virtues that a deluded public makes him its idol.
Most of the great men of the nineteenth century were born in a log cabin in Ohio.
They were born poor, but always born honest, they tell us. I am not an exception. I was born in Ohio, in a log cabin, poor but honest. I remained honest until I was two years old-or until I cut my first set of teeth. when I became wobbly. I am still reported wobbly by those who know me best. The dentists say I can even get wobblyer and wobblyer every time I cut a new set of teeth. I believe, however, if the other fellow would always do right by me as I look at it, I'd meet him half way and be good. That is, if there is any money in it for me, I'd be good. At my time of life, I cannot afford to be good for nothing. Honesty is the best policy in everything except politics.
It seems to me I am not able to stick to my text this evening-get to talking about my- self and forget it. But I want to say before I get to rambling again, that I can truthfully say, as I lay my hand on the place my heart used to be-before I was married-if there is any virtue in poverty, I am IT. I in- herited most of my poverty from my folks ; but by hard work and close attention to busi- ness and by some assistance. I got into poli- tics, I have added something to the original stock of "no assets" I inherited, until now in my old age I have quite a stock of calami- ties on hand which I would like to exchange with Mr. Carnegie for some of his cash. He could have his wish perliaps and die poor and I would dye-my whiskers.
But about 1874. I have forgotten some of the mean things I did in 1874, and since I have cultivated the habit of forgetting them until now distance has lent such en- chantment to the view, that I complacently look upon myself and the campaign of 1874 as being perfectly delightful. Among other
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things it did this for me-it made it possible for me to know most of you gentlemen present here this evening-something that perhaps I am prouder of than you are. But your friendship and good will are something I value highly. The honors of office are nothing. if to get the office you must sacrifice friends or self-re- spect to succeed. Ingratitude is not one of my faults, and I never turn my back to a friend. We joke each other a great deal during a campaign, and accuse each other of many things we do not mean, but so far as I know, I have never lost a friend by any- thing I have done or said about him because he was not of my political faith. I never intend to let political matters interfere with business or friendship. If I have ever un- wittingly said anything at any time you don't like, you may, if you wish to do so, apologize to me for it after the entertain- ment is over this evening; though it is not absolutely necessary.
But I must get to talking about 1874 pretty soon. In 1874, on the 25th day of July, the People's party of this county nomi- nated a ticket. I was one of the number the People's party drew as a prize on that day. I was nominated to run for sheriff and I began to run that same evening.
My diary, if I had one, would read like this : July 25th, nominated for sheriff, 6 p. m .; shook hands with about two million people; got home late; didn't tell my wife about it-no use for her to get stuck up about it-she can't be sheriff anyway. July 26th, Sunday, lot of people here to-day to congratulate me; wife knows all about it now, but don't seem to be puffed up any- not as much as I am, in fact. July 27th, still
running for office; wife says to me, "see here, why are you strutting around so much anyway; why don't you go out and split some wood ; you haven't got sand enough to split kindlings, let alone being sheriff." August 2nd ; still running for office-been at it a week now, I like it better than plow- ing corn ; feeling pretty good. August 9th ; still running; don't feel so good; the Post said some things about me this week I didn't know anyone knew about; think I'll resign. August 16th, running some; been notified to drop $50 in the political slot: dog-gone politics anyway; August 23d, the Post is still at it and I don't feel well; am not run- ning much this week ; if the Post proves the things it says it can, I'm a goner ; weather pretty warm. Think I'll resign and go some place where it is not so hot all around. August 30th, moving along, but pretty slow ; getting too hot to run. If all the Post says is true, I am dog-gone lucky if I don't land in jail without being elected. September 3d. running yet, feeling some better, our paper has been giving it to the Post like Sam Hill: dropped another $50 in the slot ; wife needs a new calico dress ; she'll have to patch the old one again. September 10th, still running. September 17th, ditto : September 24th, ditto, October Ist, slowed down again. The Post has proved all the mean things it said about me and I am expecting to be arrested any minute. If ever I get out of this thing without being hung, I'll bet nobody will get me to run for office again. October 15th, election over; I'm IT. Just got word. I owe the committee $25 more; I've a notion to let the committee sweat for the money. I've been worried enough. Oc- tober 20th, dropped $25 as per request in the
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political slot; just like losing it. Now if ever any one suggests to mne to run for office again, I'll take him by his soft white hand and gently lead him out behind the barn and brain him with the meat axe."
This is the last entry in the diary. In 1876 I had forgotten all this and entered myself for a three minute trot against a lot of ringers, and came pretty near being left at the quarter pole.
After the election they had a big jollifi- cation at South Whitley. I went with some fear and trembling. felt it my duty to go. but was afraid maybe I would have to make a speech or get my hat burnt. Thought, though, if I had to make a speech. I'd deliver my inaugural and be done with that duty. There was a big crowd and everybody yelled, and everybody tried to burn every- body's hat but his own. Finally they burnt my hat and I yelled some too. Then they ran a big wagon out in the street, and I was caught and thrown into it-lit mostly on my head and kind of on all fours. As soon as I got on my feet and got the straw out of my mouth, I yelled some more and then waved my hands and arms and shook my head and kicked. Everybody was yell- ing and the crowd thought I was making a speech. About all I said was: "It gives me great pleasure (nit) to be here to-night and get my best Sunday hat burnt and have to go home bareheaded. If during my term of office any of you fellows have to be hanged, it will give me But just then the crowd quit yelling and I got down out of the wagon and slid for home
Since then I have dwelt among you, and my life has been as an open book. I have been careful not to do anything the papers
could get onto and make capital out of. I don't think I shall ever go into another cam- paign as the people's idol: it's too risky : they say things about you you would rather they wouldn't, and make you uneasy.
There are but four left of those who composed the ticket of 1874; James Rider, John Richards, Levi Adams and myself. The others are gone. The history of thei: lives is part of the history of Whitley county. The ticket of 1874 made some his- tory, and it did its share in clearing up the political atmosphere of Whitley county. The survivors of that ticket are getting to be old men. It will not be long until the closing chapter of their lives will be written, and at the bottom of the page will be written the two words-THE END.
At the 1905 banquet, ex-Clerk Richard H. Maring spoke on the subject: "The Pioneers," as follows :
The subject assigned me by the pro- gramme committee is rather indefinite. I might assume that they had in mind J. Feni- more Cooper's famous book: "The Pio- neers," or the early settlers of the United States, or the state of Indiana, or Whitley county, or I might infer that they desired me to say something about the pioneer county officers of Whitley county. Vol- umes might be written upon these subjects. but in the very brief time at iny command I will only allude to some of the early county officers, and especially to some of the men who in the long ago have occupied the office of clerk of the circuit court in this county.
Of the thirteen men who have occupied that position of trust, eight are still living, and there has not been a death in the ranks in ten years. The work of the clerk's office
.
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is said to be quite laborious, yet it cannot be compared with that of the governor of the state: only one ex-governor of Indiana is living to-day. I believe. The clerk's work is not all play, yet it has never killed any- one in this county.
Whitley county was organized in 1838 and Abraham Cuppy was the first clerk. Mr. Cuppy was a man of considerable abil- ity, and afterwards represented the county in the state legislature and was a member of the state senate at the time of his death at Indianapolis, in January, 1847. Mr. Cuppy held the clerk's office four years and was succeeded by Richard Collins who, ac- cording to the records, served thirteen years. This would not be tolerated to-day.
The third clerk, who filled the office from 1855 to 1859. fifty years ago, was our worthy president, Col. I. B. McDonald. Mr. McDonald was followed by William E. Merriman, who served four years and was succeeded by James B. Edwards, who was a two termer and served from 1863 to 1871. Eli W. Brown was Mr. Edwards' successor and filled the office four years.
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