USA > Michigan > Genesee County > History of Genesee County, Michigan, Her People, Industries and Institutions, Volume I > Part 22
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In 1834 came R. A. Carman and A. S. Donaldson; in 1835, Jonathan Shepard, Joseph Thorp, William Remington and Elisha Larned. Mr. Larned was from Yates county, New York, and settled on section 32, but in 1837 moved to Fenton. William Remington, a native of Rhode Island, and later a resident of New Bedford, Massachusetts, and of Dutchess and Ulster counties, New York, came with Mr. Larned in 1835, settling near him. Joseph Thorp came from Genesee county, New York, and settled finally on section 36, at the site of Fenton.
ยท The Chapin brothers, Alonzo and Murzah, were two of the first settlers in Fenton township. Originally they were from Irondequoit, Monroe county,
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New York, but had come to Wayne county, Michigan, in 1833, where they located in the township of Dearborn. Murzah Chapin and his family moved into Fenton township in 1836, and Alonzo and wife, the year after. They settled first near Mud lake, and later near Linden. During the years of his early residence in the township, Alonzo engaged in teaming in various parts of the state, transporting goods for settlers and making trips as far west as Lake Michigan, becoming widely acquainted with pioneer families and the conditions of settlement over a wide area. He became one of the most pros- perous farmers in the county and was for many years a strong influence in the growth of the Fenton neighborhood.
Prominent among others who came to the township before 1840 were Oliver Warren, Theophilus Stone, Walter Sluyter, A. Kirby, H. M. Thomp- son, H. Lee, M. Walton, J. Van Winkle and S. P. Thompson.
Very early in the settlement of the township, population began to con- centrate about a site of great natural beauty on the Shiawassee river, in the extreme southeast, which was destined to develop into the present flourishing village of Fenton. The story of the discovery of this site and of its first settlers, cannot be better told than in the words of Hon. Dexter Horton in an address made in the centennial year of 1876:
Early in the year 1834, Clark Dibble was threading his way through a trackless wilderness from Shiawassee to Grumilaw (now Grand Blanc), and by some mistake he got on the White Lake trail. Reaching what is now Hillman's, he started to make farther north and first discovered this beautiful place which is now our village. He was so forcibly struck with its location that he stopped for a day and examined thor- oughly the lay of the land. So taken up was he with the place that on his arrival at "Grumlaw" he induced Dustin Cheney, Loren Riggs and John Galloway, with their families to come with him to this spot; Cheney and family came first, then Clark Dibble, then Galloway and Riggs -- all in April, 1834.
Mrs. Dustin Cheney was the first white woman that stepped on the spot where our flourishing village now stands. Today she is slowly passing away. She resided within one mile of where I now stand, having acted well her part in the great drama of life-the mother of eight children. For the last fifteen years she can truly say, "I'm blind, oh, I'm blind." Go and visit her, as I have done, and listen to her words of wisdom and her tale of pioneer life, and then say, if you can, if she has not per- formed well her part in life. Though blind to the world, though darkness obstructs her vision, she sees across the river with a vision as bright as the dazzling rays of the noonday sun. What a chapter, what a history might be written of this truly good woman !
Harrison Cheney was the first white child born here, and both mother and child are living. Cheney's family built the first house, on the ground where Mrs. B. Bird- sall now resides, the next, where Ellery Anderson now lives; Galloway the next, near the gate to the fair ground.
Many weeks had not passed before the cry came from the little band in the wilder- ness, "Lost ! Lost!" Louise Cheney, a little prattling, sweet cherub of seven years,
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had strayed away. Her mother, with some of the older children, had gone around a little swale, where Chandler's house now stands, to see if there would not be a good place to plant corn. She told the little girl to go back, but somehow she strayed away, and the cry of "Lost ! Lost" reached Grand Blanc, Groveland, Holly and White Lake, and the pioneers came to assist.
On the third day, R. Winchell, who had been at work on Dibble's mill, and who had been hunting for the child, came in nearly exhausted and threw himself on the bed at about twelve o'clock. At about two o'clock he awoke, having dreamed where the child was. He immediately put on his hat and went and found the child in the exact spot where, but a few moments before, he saw her in his dream. She had been lost three days and was found just over beyond the hill where the Baptist seminary now stands, near a little pool of water. She was in nearly an exhausted condition. The little thing would crawl down and take a drink of water, and then crawl back on dry ground to die. She afterwards became the first wife of Galen Johnson.
Dibble built the first saw-mill, in 1834, and got it running in the fall. One by one the pioneers came: R. H. McOmber and family, Uncle Dick Donaldson and family, R. LeRoy, W. M. Fenton, E. Larned, W. Remington, Walter Dibble, E. Pratt, A. Bailey, etc.
The first hotel was built, in 1837, by R. LeRoy and W. M. Fenton, where the Everett House now stands, and Mr. Fenton opened it with a dance. July 4th of the same year, Uncle Dick Donaldson's band did the fiddling and Elisha Larned grace- fully made music with the tumblers and decanters behind the bar.
R. LeRoy opened the first store, where Richardson's wagon-shop now stands, in 1837, and in 1838 was appointed first postmaster, and held that office for thirteen years. A Mr. Taylor succeeded him, and after his death a part of the postoffice was found in his pocket.
This year (1838) the first school house was built and a Mr. Nottingham was the first teacher. At that time the right of the schoolmaster to whip was not questioned, and a deeper and more lasting impression was often made with the gad than with the blackboard.
At this time, and in this old log school house, a pioneer and gentleman, now living a short distance from here, was called, as he thought, to preach, and in an hour of work and religious excitement he had what was called in those days the "power." He rolled over and over on the floor. Scott McOmber played that the young man had fainted, seized a pail of water, and immediately the "power" left him and the would-be preacher revived.
The first physician was Doctor Pattison; the first blacksmith was Elisha Holmes, and the first bricklayer, John Harmon. The first church organization was that of the First Presbyterian church, which took place February 28, 1840, in the third story of the now Britton store, and the following constituted its membership: Silas Newell, Sarah Newell, George H. Newell, John Hadley, Jr., Sophia Hadley, Benjamin Rockwell, Louisa Rockwell, Daniel LeRoy, Mrs. LeRoy, Lucy Thorp, John Fenwick, Jane Fenwick, James K. Wortman, John C. Gallup, Mrs. Gallup, Eliza McOmber and Lucy LeRoy. The giant oaks were felled, migration continued to flow in, and God was in the wilderness.
Another interesting reminiscence of early days in Fenton is found in an address made in 1878 by Dr. S. W. Pattison, who was the first resident physician in Fenton. Following is an extract from this address :
(14)
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Dibbleville, now Fentonille, was a central point where several Indian trails came together, about sixty miles from Detroit and twenty-eight miles from Pontiac, having Holly on the east, Rose on the south, Byron on the west and Mundy on the north. I was satisfied that eventually it would become a place of some importance, and time has justified my expectation.
At this time the Indians were in the neighborhood in large numbers, cultivating some land near by. I will relate a little circumstance to illustrate the state of society in Dibbleville in 1836. While I was exploring as already stated, leaving my family in the building where the Indians had for a long time procured whisky, they could not realize the change and still visited the house in search of their poison-whisky. One day a very fierce and ugly-looking Indian came in and insisted upon being fur- nished whisky. Peeking around, he discovered a small trunk and, shaking it, produced quite a jingling, as it contained one or two hundred dollars in silver. His conduct quite alarmed my wife, who feared she would receive another visit from this ugly-looking savage. Her fears were fully realized, for about one or two o'clock at night he com- menced a violent knocking at the door, which was well barricaded, saying he wanted scoter (fire). He continued his knocking until it was evident he would break down the door. Wife calling for a gun to shoot the Indian, my son (editor of the Ypsilanti Commercial), then twelve years of age, found his way out from a chamber entrance and alarmed Mr. Dibble, who scared the marauder off, and the next day scared him from the vicinity.
It soon became known that a physician had settled at Dibbleville, and I had pro- fessional calls quite a distance-to Highland, White Lake, Grand Blanc, Deerfield, Hart- land, etc. I was guided to many of these places through timbered openings by marked trees, often following Indian trails. At this time government lands were being rapidly taken up, and while some lands were taken by speculators, the country was being dotted all over by real residents, and the greater number were enterprising, thrifty and intelligent, making good society. . Highland, generally known as "Tinney Settle- ment," and White Lake are samples, building school houses and churches almost from the first settlement.
Many of the first settlers, however, were poor, and when they had taken up their homes had but little left to live on, and provisions were very high. I well remember paying fifteen dollars for a barrel of flour and every kind of eatables in proportion. Much of corn, oats, etc., came from Ohio, but Tinney settlement was our Egypt. There was corn there. The second year I made several meals among the farmers on boiled wheat for bread, and it was no sacrifice. This scarcity was of short duration. Soon there was a surplus of provisions, and Detroit, sixty miles away, was our market, and money was as scarce as provisions had been. During the months of August and Sep- tember the intermittent and remittent fevers-diseases peculiar to low or flat countries- prevailed to a large extent. The well were the exception; whole families were down ; many became discouraged, and some fied back to New York; but it was remarkable that most of these returned again to Michigan. But here and there an old pioneer can realize the privations and hardships of the first settlers of this part of Michigan. They were generally industrious, and the axe and the plow soon converted the forests, oak-openings and prairies into fruitful fields.
The first Sabbath school at Dibbleville was begun in my house and conducted by my wife, assisted by Norris Thorp, then a young man. It was soon after removed to a log school house on the east side, and strengthened by a Mr. Warren's family and others moving in, it became a permanent institution."
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William M. Fenton, once lieutenant-governor of Michigan, after whom the town and village were named, writes interestingly about this time of the early days in Fenton; especially appropriate here is the following :
Dibbleville-so called from Clark Dibble-in 1836 comprised a small saw-mill, situ- ated where the flouring-mill in the village now stands, a small frame shell of a house, near Clark's house (a shell also), and another occupied by Dr. S. W. Patterson.
The road from Springfield passed the house of James Thorp, east of the village, and crossed near the present bridge. Dibble's house was near the west end of the bridge. Thence the road to the "Grand River country" passed on to the west, striking the present road near the public square; thence by L. P. Riggs' and Bailey's farms and on by "Sadler's Tavern" west. Another road branched off to "Warner's Mills," now Linden, passing John Willbur's and Dustin Cheney's farms. Wallace Dibble occu- pied the farm south and Ebenezer Pratt, that north of the village, and a road ran north passing McOmber's and so on to William Gage's and thence to Grand Blanc.
The above names comprise the nearest settlements at that time, and the above all the roads, which were simply tracks marking the first passage of teams through the county. This point was early noticed by business men of Pontiac, which was the market for flour at that time from Scott's Mills at DeWitt; the flour being drawn down this road, crossed the stream here, thence to Springfield and to Pontiac. Scott's gray team was familiar with its load to all on this line, walking at the rate of four miles an hour day after day, and fed only nights and mornings.
In the year 1836, Robert LeRoy and William M. Fenton were selling goods in Pontiac. Their attention was turned in this direction. Judge Daniel LeRoy (father of Robert) predicted that this point would be on the great and principal thoroughfare and line of railroad to the western portion of the state, and LeRoy and Fenton, having the choice of buying here or that part of Flint west of Saginaw street and south of the river, chose by Judge LeRoy's advice this point, established themselves here in December, 1836, and, at the judge's suggestion, platted and named the village Fenton- ville in the spring of 1837. The work of starting a village was commenced by putting the little uncovered saw-mill, with its single saw, in motion; a road to Flint (present plank road), another to White Lake, etc., were projected, and a new saw-mill, a grist- mill, tavern, store and dwellings begun. Benjamin Rockwell purchased a third interest and added by his means to the enterprise. The first building they erected was the house, corner Adelaide street and Shiawassee avenue (southwest corner), built of plank, sawed within the week in which it was erected, and at once occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Fenton as residence and boarding-house for fifteen to thirty mechanics until the hotel was built.
The household goods were brought on lumber-wagons from Pontiac and the stream was crossed on a bridge of logs. I well remember driving such a load, reaching the stream after dark, finding it swollen by rains, hailing "Clark," who came down to the river-side with a lantern, and then, with its light as my "guiding star," cracking my whip and driving across, every log afloat and sinking a foot or more under the horses' feet; but we were safely across, and that little pioneer experience only added zest to our enjoyment of new scenes and primitive modes of life, which must be seen to be appreciated.
In the spring of 1837 a township meeting was held at the house called "Sadler's Tavern," four miles west of Fentonville. The towns of Fenton and Argentine were then one and called Argentine. About two o'clock p. m. of town meeting day, a load of working men (as were all the pioneers) from Fentonville drove up to the polls and
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offered their votes. James H. Murray and Dr. S. W. Patterson were on the board and refused to accept the votes, stating they had voted for supervisor in the morning and "declared off." The secret was they had declared off for a Whig and the load were Democrats. They feared the result. An argument ensued; they canvassed and counted up, and finding the vote offered would not change the result, received them, Doctor Patterson stating their way of declaring off was the law, because they did so in "York State." We could't see it, and the result of this trifling affair was that appli- cation was made at the next session of the Legislature, and, through the influence of Daniel B. Wakefield, then senator from this district, the township of Fenton was set off, and henceforth managed its own business in Michigan, and not in York state fashion. * * # *
Prudence and forethought are seldom the characteristics of the pioneer. To illus- trate: On visiting this place in the winter of 1836-37, Clark Dibble's house furnished the only entertainment. He was a pioneer proper. He had a wife and plenty of small children; his house was a shell, only sided up; rooms it had none, but a blanket separated the boarders from the family; the latter occupied the stove-room, in which were a bed, a few chairs and a table. Here were the family and what few clothes belonged to them, with some sets of crockery, knives and forks; and here we must eat or starve. Clark would arise with the lark, go to a log he had drawn up before the door, chop off enough to make a fire, then take his gun and go to the woods and, in a little time, bring in a deer. Venison was the staple meat and buckwheat cakes, the bread. Tea could be had at intervals and whisky occasionally ; butter, wheat, flour and pork were scarce commodities.
Many a curious scene has transpired in that shanty. Old Nate Bailey was one of the characters, John Wilbur, another, and the traveler stopping to warm would be regaled by a conversation and see the peculiar leer of the eye and shrug of the shoul- ders of those half-ragged and bandit-looking men, and feel, as he left them, he had escaped a danger. Peace to Clark Dibble's ashes! He has gone from among us, killed by the fall of a tree on his own place, to which he had removed over the hills south. But his housekeeper must come in for a note in "historical incidents."
At dinner, one day, the boiled venison and buckwheat cakes were being rapidly bolted by hungry men. More venison was called for. She put her fork into the kettle for another piece and raised, to the consternation of his guests, what? Not a piece of venison, as was anticipated, but one of Clark's cast-off stockings, no doubt acci- dentally inserted in the boiling vessel by one of the little imps cutting capers around bed and stove. It can be better imagined than described how hungry men seized a buckwheat cake and declared themselves perfectly content to go their ways and eat no more of that particular mess of pottage.
One of Wilbur's familiar illustrations, when he wished to be considered as saying something shrewd, was, "There is a wheel within a wheel, Mr. LeRoy," for many years the settlers were amused by his saying, while they recollected and recounted their earliest impressions of Uncle John and old Nate Bailey -- the latter peculiarly looking the brigand, although in fact as harmless as a dove.
One of the maxims of that day was that a barrel of whisky was better in a family (especially to bring up a family) than a farrow cow. This may be so-it is not neces- sary to argue the point-but there seemed reason to believe that "Argentine Madeira," as whisky from Murray's was called, had a good deal to do with the brigands, their queer looks and mysterious sayings and shrugs.
Let not old Nate be confounded with one of the earliest settlers, Elisha Bailey. He was a well-digger and, although advanced in years, at one time received upon his
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back, in the bottom of the well, a falling tub filled with stone. Most men would have been killed by the blow. Bailey survived and, while much injured, still recovered and dug more wells. ** * *
The immigration of 1836 was continued, but with some abatement, in 1837. The influx of settlers in and around Fentonville was large; farmers settled about the vil- lage and for several miles in each direction, and each made his bee and summoned all to his aid; mechanics and men of all employment sought this point and soon after the opening of the spring, a store and hotel, saw-mill, grist-mill, blacksmith shop, car- penter's and painter's shops and houses were under way and in rapid progress of con- struction. The hotel first built was what is now known as the Riggs House; it was the first store on the opposite corner of the street, since changed to face south, and is the building now standing on the northwest corner of Shiawassee avenue and LeRoy street. No better store or tavern was known north of Detroit in those days. The house on the north side of the public square (occupied by Sheldon) was erected also by William M. Fenton, and then considered a big house. Houses on both sides of the river were erected ; Judge LeRoy built the house now constituting part of LeRoy Hotel and Benjamin Rockwell, one on the north side of the river now occupied by Nathaniel Hodge.
These, in my recollection, not to forget Elisha Holmes' blacksmith shop, were among the first buildings and mostly finished in 1837-38. The lumber was sawed principally at the old mill, and the new, after it was up, including some pine logs from Long Lake. Whitewood and basswood were used to a considerable extent, but the better quality of pine required, including sash- and door-stuff and shingles, were hauled from Flint.
This spot showed in that year all the bustle, activity and enterprise of a village soon to grow into large proportions, and here let me remark, as a well-known fact, that but for the pecuniary embarrassment and want of capital of the early proprietors, Fentonville in its first three years growth would have increased in population at least fourfold beyond what, with its limited means at hand, it was destined to reach. But there was no lack of perseverance and unity of feeling then among its population; all labored late and early, and when any public occasion called them out, none remained behind.
The Fourth of July was celebrated that year in perhaps as gay and festive style as it ever has been since. The hotel was unfinished. but its roof was on, sides inclosed and floors laid, and Esquire McOmber was invited to deliver the usual address. Marshal Hamilton, as he was called (a carpenter, since removed to Tuscola), in the red sash of one of his ancestors, directed the procession, and an extensive one, rest assured, it was; not a pioneer-wagon for ten miles around had deposited its load in the forest but it was here that day, with all its former living freight, and the newborn infants to boot. Fifes and drums, too-the remainders, perhaps, of some York state militia- training-were in requisition, and guns were fired from Holmes' anvil. Shiawassee, Livingston and Oakland turned out in numbers large for the time and seats of rough boards were placed for the assemblage as they gathered to that promising building- the hotel. Esquire McOmber delivered one of his finest speeches, a free lunch was zealously partaken, the toasts were patriotic to the core, and, to crown all, we had, as usual, not only great heat, but a violent thunder-storm just at the close of our feast, which shook the earth and heavens, and made the building tremble and dishes rattle, whereat Esquire McOmber, being in his happiest mood, turning his eyes upward, poured forth a stream of fervid eloquence and made use of some tremendous expletives which it becomes not a veracious writer of history-to be read by all the human family here- abouts-to relate. The old settlers, if any read this, will remember and supply the omission
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Philip H. McOmber, the father of the McOmbers now known in Fenton, was a lawyer from Saratoga county, New York. At an early day (say 1835) he settled in Genesee county. Long Lake was the spot he selected and upon its banks, where now stands the Long Lake Hotel, he erected a dwelling. Enterprising and talented as a lawyer, he soon became widely and favorably known * * * and it is due to Philip H. McOmber, as well as to his sons, that honorable mention in this sketch of our early history should be made of one who, with others, made the wilderness "to bud and blossom as the rose." For many years, on the banks of Long Lake, a hospitable mansion welcomed all who came, and the delicious peaches raised by him for many years on the banks of the lake were freely bestowed and gratified the palates of all who ranked among his friends or who made his house their home for the time being. He, with many other pioneers of this region, has gone to his last resting-place, and to him, with others, we who survive should not hesitate to award the meed of praise for their untiring energy in bringing into notice this region of country, now teeming with its busy population and its industrious citizens.
Among the many incidents of interest in the early settlement of this town, let me not forget to name the fact that the first piano, the tones of which were heard in Fentonville, was brought here in 1837 by Mrs. Benjamin Rockwell, a sister of W. M. Fenton. It was placed in the hotel (now Riggs House), in the large room, south- east corner, second story. Mrs. Rockwell and Mrs. Fenton were both good players. At a place north of Long Lake resided a band of Indians; many of them were well known, but more especially the one called "King Fisher." He was the chief of the tribe and from year to year received the presents of his tribe, not only from the United States, but from Canada, traveling annually for that purpose to Detroit and Malden. The band was large. Fisher, the chief, was, on occasions of his visits, dressed in a frock coat of navy blue, a tall hat of furs, ornamented with silver bands and medals, rings pendent from his ears, gaiters and leggings of deerskin and strings of wampum and beads appended. Take him all in all, he was worthy of his name. Small in stature, but with a bold, manly bearing, erect and dignified, he trod the earth as one of nature's noblemen, which he certainly was. His house (of logs) was always open to welcome and cherish the weary traveler, and no more hospitable board or convenient lodging was found in all the country round. The traveler was furnished with the skins and furs of the wild beasts of the forest for his bed, and as by magic, when he retired to repose around him fell, in gentle folds, the light gauze protection from the enemy of sleep (mosquitoes), in those days so little known to ordinary inhabitants, but care- fully provided for his quiet by "King Fisher." Would you know how in those days he looked, find the portrait of Aaron Burr, or one who has been him as he trod Wall street in his falling days, and the one is a counterpart of the other. Fisher, with some of his family (now living and known to most of the readers), came down to hear the music of which he had been told. He, in his full dress, was, with some of his tribe, ushered up and in his kingly majesty took the chair offered him and sat, but without uncovering; his attendants stood respectfully about him and a little retired. Petowauokuet, an Indian and a good deal of a joker, familiar to the pioneers and usually full of fun, awed by the presence of majesty, stood back in respectful silence. Mrs. Rockwell struck the keys. The Indians gen- erally seemed enchanted; King Fisher's muscles were rigid, not a movement or sound of surprise from him; he was' all dignity and bore himself as a king. The piece played, the song sung, and he turned to Mrs. Fenton and, through Dan Runyan, who was present as his interpreter-for he disdained to speak English, although he fully understood it, as in his squiby (drunken) moods was readily seen-asked her to
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