USA > Indiana > Marion County > Indianapolis > Sketches of prominent citizens of 1876 : with a few of the pioneers of the city and county who have passed away > Part 3
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 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52
FIRST WINTER IN INDIANAPOLIS.
We found Mr. Wilson with quite a large family of his own, although he told my father he would be welcome to the use of one of his two cabins until such time as he would be able to build one for himself ; but that a Quaker from Wayne county, named Billy Townsend, had been out and raised a cabin and covered it, but had neither cut out a door, window, or place for a chimney. It was situated in the middle of Ken- tucky avenue, about midway between Illinois and Tennessee streets.
My father did not take the liberty of cutting out the doors and chim- ney, lest he would not get them in the places the owner wished ; so he pried up two corners of the house and took out the third log from the bottom, which would, by climbing, be sufficient for ingress and egress. A few boards were removed from the middle of the roof, for the escape of smoke, the fire being built in the middle of the room, on the ground,
25
REMOVAL TO THE NEW PURCHASE.
there being no floor. This house had neither "chinking or daubing." My mother lined the inside walls by hanging up rag carpeting, which rendered it quite comfortable for the short time we occupied it. The entire male population were prompt to tender their services to assist in building a cabin of our own. These, with seven men already at my father's command, enabled him in a few days to have a comfortable cabin, which he built on the west bank of the ravine (on Missouri street), about midway between Washington and Maryland streets.
At this cabin of Townsend's the men enjoyed very much the going in and out of my grandmother. She was quite a large but short woman, pretty near as thick as she was long, and none enjoyed the fun more than the old lady herself.
Our new cabin was eighteen by twenty feet square; the chimney, which was in the east end, would take in a "back-log" eight feet in length, and a "fore-stick" ten feet. There were two doors, one on the north, and the other on the south side, opposite. These doors were made in this way to facilitate the making of fires. The back-sticks were about eighteen inches in diameter ; one end was placed on a sled called a "lizard," to which a horse was hitched and driven through the house until the log was opposite the fire-place, and then rolled to its place in the fire ; and so with the fore-stick; and the smaller fuel carried in and placed on top. The two large sticks would last about twenty-four hours.
Robert Wilmot, the second merchant, had a small stock of goods and Indian trinkets, and for a short time carried on a trade with the Indians ; but a little circumstance occurred that frightened him, and he soon . returned to Georgetown, Kentucky, his former residence.
A Delaware Indian, named Jim Lewis, had pledged some silver hat- bands to Wilmot for goods, and was to return in two moons and redeem them. His word he kept, but when he came back Wilmot had sold them to another Indian, which exasperated Lewis so that he threatened Wilmot that if he ever found him going to his corn-field alone he would take his scalp. This frightened him so much that he never would go alone, but often requested and was accompanied by the late Doctor Livingston Dunlap. So fearful was he that Lewis would execute his threat, he sold out, and, as before stated, returned to Kentucky, as it was pretty generally known that Lewis was the murderer of the white man found near the Bluffs on an island of White river. This threat against Wilmot had a tendency to alarm and put on their guard other settlers.
That spring my father made sugar at an old Indian sugar camp
26
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT CITIZENS.
(many of the trees are yet standing), at the southeast end of Virginia avenue. He was alone at night boiling the sap. He discovered coming direct to him, and only about thirty steps distant, a man he at once took to be Jim Lewis. He raised his rifle, pointed it at the man, and directed him to stop. The person threw up his hands, and cried out, " Don't shoot, Nowland, it is Harris." It turned out to be an old friend from Kentucky, named Price Harris, who had just arrived that evening, and wished to go out to the camp that night. He wore a white hat, which my father took for the silver bands Lewis wore on his hat. After this threat, for some time the settlers did not feel secure, and every little incident created alarm.
THE HARDING BROTHERS.
The widow Harding and several sons came to this place in the spring of 1820. Her cabin stood on the bank of the river, on the north side of the ravine, near where the woolen factory of Merritt & Coughlen now stands.
Eliakim, Samuel, Israel and Laban were single, and lived with their mother. Robert was married, and lived on the bluff bank, just north of the east end of the National road bridge. Ede Harding did not come to this place for several years after the rest.
Robert Harding's second son, Mordecai, was the first white child born on the donation, and is still living four miles west of town, on the National road.
The elder Hardings are all dead. They were all industrious and energetic farmers, having the opportunity as they did of selecting the best land in the New Purchase, and improved their farms in fine style.
Noah, the eldest and only other son of Robert Harding, lives about three miles west of the city, and is one of our most respectable farmers.
Laban, the son of Ede, owns and lives on one of the best farms in the county, about six miles from town, north of the Crawfordsville State road,
It was Samuel Harding who gave the writer his first lesson in horse- manship, allowing him to ride one of his plow-horses to and from the corn-field, morning, noon and evening.
Samuel and Israel Harding were brothers-in-law as well as brothers, having married two sisters, daughters of Jeremiah Johnson, and sisters of Jerry, spoken of on another page.
27
ISAAC WILSON-SPRING OF 1821.
ISAAC WILSON.
This good old Samaritan came to this city in the spring of 1820, and built his double cabin on the northwest corner of State House square, the first house of any kind built on the original town plat. He built the first grist mill on Fall creek, in the years 1821-22 ; he removed his family to his farm near the mill.
He was one of the most charitable and benevolent men I ever knew, and did as much for the poor during the four or five years he lived after the first settlement of the place as any person here. His house was the place for holding religious meetings and preachings as long as he lived in town, as it was also the stopping place for preachers of all denomi- nations.
Mr. Wilson had been married twice. His first wife's children lived for many years on White Lick, about ten miles west of town, but those that are yet living have moved further west. He had four children by his last wife-the two boys, Lorenzo Dow and Wesley, both are dead,; his two daughters are yet living. Patty is the wife of Samuel J. Patter- son, and lives on her father's old farm; Elizabeth is the widow of Isaac Harris, and lives near her sister. They are the oldest settlers living near the town, while the writer claims to be the oldest living within the city limits.
Mr. Wilson was very kind to my father and mother, and assisted us a great deal, which will be kindly remembered by the writer as long as he lives. He presented us with a cow and calf, ours having died a few days after my father's death.
SPRING OF 1821.
The spring of 1821 brought out a great many persons from the "settlement," for the purpose of raising a "crap," preparatory to moving their families in the fall.
The undergrowth of a large field was cleared in common by almost the entire population. The south side of the field only was fenced ( with a brush fence ) ; the north side and east and west ends were left open, as there was no stock that would be likely to disturb the growing crop. Indeed, the first and second years there were very few cattle and hogs, and they grazed on the south side of the field, where the fence was. The few horses were kept in the plow during the week, and on Sundays were taken to the island just across the river from the
28
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT CITIZENS.
old city cemetery to graze. This island abounded with pea-vine and other fine pasture. The animals were generally "spanceled, " or hob- bled, by tying a rope around the forelegs, between the pastern-joint and hoof ; and their owners watched them through the day, to prevent them being stolen by the Indians. The poor animals got very little to eat except spice boughs through the week. It was a great treat to them to have the fine pasture of the island on Sunday. I have often heard the settlers remark that their horses would do twice more work on Monday than any other day of the week.
A great many persons that were here for the purpose of raising a crop were deterred from bringing their families in the fall, in conse- quence of the sickness of that summer. For a while there was scarcely one person able to hand another a drink of water.
In February of this year, my father had returned to Kentucky, and induced a man named Elisha Herndon to join him in the purchase of a keel-boat, and load it with flour, bacon, whisky, and such articles as might be necessary during the coming summer, in view of the survey of the town being made. The late Colonel A. W. Russell, then a very young man, was prevailed upon to take charge of the boat as supercargo, and bring it from Frankfort, Kentucky, to this place, where he arrived about the first of May. The Kentucky and Ohio rivers were descended with- out any difficulty, the rivers being high. The Wabash and White rivers were ascended by what is called " cord-elling," or tying a rope to a tree some distance in advance of the boat, and then pulling the boat up to the point, and sometimes poling or pushing the boat by means of poles. In this way they were about six weeks in ascending the Wabash and White rivers. This was the first boat that ever ascended the river this far; and the first Fourth of July was celebrated (by all who were not too sick) by a trip on this boat to Anderson's spring, which was about one and a half miles above the settlement, on the west side of the river, near where the Crawfordsville State road now crosses. The cargo of this boat was sold at a great loss, owing to the great expense incurred by the hire of hands necessary to bring it up the Wabash and White rivers.
One or two other keel-boats, also laden with provisions, arrived ; their cargoes were in a damaged condition, the flour damp and musty ; indeed, sweet flour was the exception, and damaged flour had to be used, and from this cause some thought the most of the sickness of that year arose.
29
ALEXANDER WILSON RUSSELL.
The hands that were engaged to bring those boats here found ready employment by the surveying party as ax-men, chain-carriers, etc.
As I have said elsewhere, the historical events will be found in the biographical sketches I shall hereafter introduce.
ALEXANDER WILSON RUSSELL
Was born in Franklin county, Kentucky, on Benson creek, about three miles from Frankfort, the capital of the State. His father, James Rus- sell, was one of the most respectable farmers of that section of country, and was also the father of Captain John Russell (recently deceased), well known as one of the first and most efficient steamboat captains on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers.
Alexander W. Russell, as stated in another sketch, came to Indian- apolis in May, 1821, being the first white man that had ascended White river thus far in a keel-boat. It was not Mr. Russell's intention, for some time after he came here, to make it his permanent place of resi- dence; but he immediately found employment in assisting to lay off the town. After that was completed he returned to Kentucky, and during the next winter concluded to make this place his residence. At that time he was quite young, and with but little experience, but had a very popular manner and way of making every person like him. In addition to this, he was a very fine performer on the "fiddle," which added greatly to his usefulness in the new country, as no log-rolling, house- raising or quilting could well afford to dispense with the services of Aleck Russell (for he was not yet known as Major or Colonel, as he afterwards was). He was always on hand at Helvey's, on the school section, or old Jim McCoy's near Broad Ripple ; and no "gathering" of any kind would be complete until he had "entered an appearance." The first office, I believe, he was a candidate for and elected to, was that of "Major," which title he was called by for several years ; then after the retirement of Mr. Hervey Bates, he was elected second sheriff of the county, which office he held the constitutional limit (two terms), and held the same office several times afterwards. He was elected to the office of militia colonel, and continued as such until the office died out for want of military spirit in the people to keep it up.
Colonel Russell was commissioned by Governor Noah Noble, the latter part of May, 1832, to raise three hundred volunteer militia, and proceed without delay to the seat of the Black Hawk or Indian War of that year, which he did; and the very fact that Russell was to be the
30
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT CITIZENS.
commander-in-chief induced many to join the bloody expedition who otherwise would have remained at home. This expedition, it will be remembered, was composed of the best citizens of this and adjoining counties, who were to arm and equip themselvs-horses, rifles and camp equipage-all at their own expense-and report in companies to Colonel Russell as soon as full. This was accomplished in a few days, and all ready for marching orders. Their camp or rendez- vous was on the high ground just beyond West, on the right side of Washington street.
Well do I remember the Sunday morning their long train of three hundred mounted men, reaching from their encampment to the corner of Pennsylvania street (where they turned north ), wound their way along Washington ; the many tears that were shed by loving wives and disconsolate mothers, as they took (as they supposed ) a last long look at their friends, who were rushing to meet the "bloody Injuns," and offer their lives as a sacrifice upon the altar of their country. Well do I remember the tin-horn, about six feet in length, out of which was blown the most doleful noise that ever reached the ears of man; the only wonder to me was that the man, instead of blowing such a noise out of the horn, had not blown his own brains out.
Most conspicuous among this self-sacrificing band of patriots, if not martyrs, was General James P. Drake, Arthur St. Clair, Stoughton A. Fletcher, Judge Elisha M. Huntington, S. V. B. Noel, General Robert Hanna, John Tracy, Captain John Wishard, Matthais T. Nowland, Captain Alexander Wiley, Robert McPherson; and last, though by no means least, was Colonel Russell himself, and his worthy superior officer, Governor Noble.
This expedition lasted just three weeks, and terminated on the third of July; on the fourth they were tendered and accepted a public dinner given by the citizens at Washington Hall. Out of the thirteen named above there are but five living, and I have no doubt they often recur to the many pleasing and amusing incidents of that campaign of the "bloody three hundred."
Colonel Russell was for many years a successful business man and merchant-was a stockholder in and director of the Branch Bank, also in Washington Hall. He was appointed postmaster under General Taylor's administration, and died while in that office, in 1852.
There are many anecdotes of the Colonel extant. His clerks used to say of him that he would sell a man a pound of tobacco, and before the man would leave the counter ask him for a chew; such was his
31
JERRY JOHNSON.
habit, he would ask him for it when he really did not want it. No man ever lived in Marion county that enjoyed the confidence of the people more than he did, and none ever died more regretted. He was of a cheerful and hopeful disposition, and his every act showed his kindness of heart and devotion to his friends.
Mr. Russell was an ardent and enthusiastic Whig of the old school- a warm personal friend of the late John J. Crittenden, of Kentucky ; indeed, as he was of every person to whom he was attached. Like many others, he had one fault-he never learned how to use the word "No," and consequently injured himself by security, although he owned at the time of his death considerable property.
He left several children, all of whom seemed to inherit his many good qualities of both head and heart.
As Colonel Russell's name is identified with the history of Indi- anapolis for the first thirty-two years, I shall have occasion to refer to it often.
JERRY JOHNSON.
This singular and eccentric individual came from the Whitewater country, with his father's family, in the winter of 1820-21. They set- tled on a piece of land they afterwards bought adjoining the donation, on the north side, opposite "Camp Morton," the present Fair Ground.
A neighbor of theirs "Old Billy Reagin," had two beautiful daughters (his only children), Miss Rachel, the eldest, and Miss Dovey, the younger. Young Jerry was not slow in discovering that " Miss Rachel was the purtiest critter his two eyes ever seed ;" and, said Jerry, "I detarmined from the moment I first seed her, to have her, or die a-trying."
Jerry pressed his suit with all the ardor of his youthful passion, and soon won the heart and promise of the hand of the beautiful Rachel. There were other troubles to be surmounted of a more formidable nature-the county was not yet organized, and no person authorized to issue the necessary legal document to make the contract between him and Rachel binding, and consummate his happiness for life. The nearest point where the necessary license could be procured was Connersville, about sixty miles distant, and through an unbroken wilderness. Another circumstance made Mr. Johnson's trouble still greater; it was in the spring time of year, and his father could not spare him a horse from the plow. All these difficulties seemed to nerve rather than depress the spirits of Mr. Johnson. He well knew the danger of delay in such
32
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT CITIZENS.
affairs, and fearful if he should wait for a horse, some other swain might woo and win the heart of the fair Rachel, which he wished to claim as quick as possible for his own. With a determination worthy of the cause in which he was engaged, he at once set out to " do or die," and started on foot, and barefoot at that, to make the journey alone. He accom. plished his journey, and returned to find other difficulties, which, if not so laborious, were equally disheartening, and calculated to make him believe that fate was against him. There was no magistrate yet ap- pointed for the county, nor was there a minister authorized to tie the legal knot, and make them Mr. and Mrs. Johnson ; so poor Jerry had to wait six long weeks, principally in the month of April, for a preacher to come and make him the happiest man in the New Purchase, and Rachel, as she was (like the goose that hung high), "altogether lovely." So ended the first courtship or wedding in or near Indianapolis.
There are many anecdotes of Mr. Johnson yet fresh in the minds of our old citizens. He was an ardent Whig, and took great interest in the elections during the existence of that party.
The first returns of a Presidential election received in this place by telegraph was in the year 1848, when Generals Taylor and Cass were the candidates. He remained in the telegraph office until a late hour of the night, to hear the dispatches read as they were severally received. Addressing himself to the writer, "Wall, John, has old Jerry lived to see the day when a streak of lightning can be made to run along a clothes line, jist like some tarnal wild varmint along a worm fence, and carry nuse from one eend of the yearth to the tother? What would old Jim McCoy say if he wor here to see the nuse come in this way ? He'd say, ''twan't slow for ten steps, boys; let's have something to drink. Landis, bring us some peach and honey. Whar's Russell, with his fiddle ? and we'll have a reg'lar hoe-down, so we will.' "
In the fall of 1847 there were several thousand persons assembled at the Madison depot to witness the arrival of the first locomotive and train of cars that ever came to Indianapolis. Mr. Johnson was stand- ing on a pile of lumber elevated above the rest of the crowd. As the locomotive hove in sight, he cried out, at the top of his voice, "Look out, boys ; here she comes, h-ll on wheels." As the train stopped, he approached the locomotive; said he, " Well, well, who ever seed such a tarnal critter? It's wus nor anything I ever hearn on. Good Lord, John, what's this world gwine to come to ?"
Mr. Johnson died about the year 1852. His wife survived him but a short time. His only child, a son, has since died. He was an upright,
KATOPSKUDULTI FAB INTIEM YEY
CABIN OF MATTHIAS R. NOWLAND-A SCENE ON WASHINGTON ST., OCT. 9, 1821.
33
MATTHIAS R. NOWLAND.
honest man, with many good traits of character. Although a rough, uncouth man in his manners, he possessed a kind and generous heart, ever ready to do a neighbor a kindness or favor. His house was always open to the unfortunate or wayfaring stranger, without money and without price. Such was Jerry Johnson, a fair specimen of the hospitality, generosity and frankness that characterized the early inhab- itants of Indianapolis, when our selfish nature and the love of power and place had not assumed the entire control of our actions, and money was not the standard by which our characters were weighed.
There are many yet living that will attest the correctness and truth. fulness (if not the elegance ) of this short sketch of an " old settler."
MATTHIAS R. NOWLAND
Was a native'of Delaware, born at Dover, the capital, in the year 1787. When quite young, with the family of his father, he emigrated to Chilli- cothe, Ohio, where he remained until he had attained his majority. He then went to Frankfort, Kentucky, and shortly after his arrival there was married to Miss Elizabeth Byrne, in after years as well, if not more generally, known through Indiana as any lady in it. Who that ever visited Indianapolis, from its beginning to 1856, has not heard of Mrs. Nowland ?
In Frankfort he engaged in active business, and was quite successful during his sojourn there, about fourteen years, and until his removal to this place, the " New Purchase," in 1820. He was a quiet, unobtrusive man, content to attend to his own business and let others do the same ; was about the only person at the first settlement of this place who was not a candidate for office, although he was appointed by Mr. Bates, the sheriff, judge of the first election in the new county, that took place in 1822, the first and only office he ever held. In February he returned to Kentucky and induced several families to emigrate and help swell the population. In the meantime the two young men he had brought here were busy in clearing the common field, and preparing for a crop the coming season.
After his return from Kentucky he engaged in making sugar in an old Indian sugar camp at the southeast end of Virginia avenue. Many of the sugar trees that he opened are yet standing. He and myself were there mostly alone, especially at night. That was a very fine sea- son for the manufacture of sugar, the season lasting until April, which
3
34
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT CITIZENS.
was very unusual in after years. In the short time he attended to this business he realized over six hundred pounds of beautiful sugar and a considerable quantity of the finest molasses ;
" Which showed he rightly understood The art, and in this western wood He scooped the primal sugar-trough, And presided at the ' stirring-off.' He knew every labor, every joy, When quite alone with his rustic boy. He looked through winter, when March would bring The sugar-making and the spring."
The events of the summer of 1821 are already recorded in another chapter.
The agent of the State had set apart three outlots, of about three acres each, to sell to such persons as wished to make brick. One of these, situated at what was then the east end of Washington street, be- tween East and Liberty, and Washington and Market, he purchased ; and here, in 1822, he made the first kiln of brick that was made in the New Purchase, the debris of which may be seen at this time. Working very hard, and taking cold at this brickyard, caused the disease that ter- minated his life, on the 11th of November, 1822.
However much the stroke of death may be expected, it never comes without a violent shock to our feelings. I well remember
" His farewell look, with Christian hope Shone as purely, calmly bright. Alas, when it vanished the night came down, And my poor lone heart no more might own A father's guiding light."
Before his death he had selected a warm sunny knoll for his future resting place, and received the promise that the hand of affection should often render kind offices to his memory, and for thirty-two years was the pledge faithfully kept by the companion of his bosom.
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.