USA > Michigan > Ionia County > Memorials of the Grand River Valley > Part 20
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 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55
Morris Hart, a genial, social character, a respectable farmer, died about 1868.
John Davis came from Madison county, N. Y., July, 1850, a blacksmith by trade. For many years he was a successful busi- ness man, public-spirited and generous. The people delighted to put him in office; they were as confident as the old Scotchman, who, when his dominie asked him why he was always atten- tive when a stranger was in the pulpit, but quietly slept when he preached, replied: " When you preaches, I know it is all right, but I cannot trust a stranger." The people knew it was all right if Davis had the managing. A series of misfortunes " broke him up," and reduced him to the forge again. There, bidding defiance to fortune, he works for a living in Grand Rapids. Our most reverent obeisance to honest "Old Rag- ged."
James Elsley, was respected as a good man when in a con- dition to be responsible. He was considered a monomaniac; tras feeble and sickly. He died in 1872, aged 76.
William Peterson, still alive, a jovial old soul who will en- joy life as long as he lives, and will die with a joke. Every- body likes "Uncle Billy," because everybody finds something to laugh at when he is around. Long life to Uncle Bill.
Isaac Tower, who, with commendable public spirit, had raised a large family of six sons and four daughters, came to Oakfield in 1839, to provide a new home for himself and them. He lived but a few years, dying in 1848, his wife in 1850. His sons, Job and Lewis, are in California; Samnel removed South; David lives in Greenville; Winslow died in 1854, while Stephen, a by no means insignificant man, alone remains in Oakfield, on the old farm. Hannah married Zenas G. Winsor, Esq., of Grand Rapids. Their nuptials, the first in the town, were solemnized by the Rev. James Ballard, May 2d, 1840. Mrs. Winsor died in 1869.
225
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
The first school in Oakfield was kept by Miss Sarah Davis (now Mrs. Almond Thompson, of Courtland), in the summer of 1845, in a private house. She had six pupils. The first school-house was built soon after; and Harry MeArthur was was the first teacher in it. MeArthur is a man who, as an educator. has left his mark on this and other towns. The mark made by a good teacher is an unerasable one, and Mc- Arthur's mark is of that character. He died in 1877, leaving a blank in Oakfield.
The Rev. Mr. Aickly, otherwise mentioned as a pioneer, was the first preacher in Oakfield.
The first birth among the settlers was that of William Henry Harrison Davis, son of Wm. R. Davis, April 24th, 1840. He was a paragon of a baby; so his mother said; and mothers ought to know.
The first time death put in his unwelcome appearance, was an event of more than ordinary interest. Orren Gilbert, a brother of the Rev. D. Gilbert, coming from another town, was frozen to death on Long Lake, in March, 1833. IIe was dis- covered by an Indian; the Indian went around him without going near, ascertained that he was dead, went to the whites and led them to the spot, and was very particular to show that his traeks were around and not up to the dead man; that he might be above suspicion.
The next funeral was of an old lady-Mrs. Stewart-in 1848.
An interesting item of Indian history has its eenter in this town, and has given name tothe largest lake. The Indian chief, Wabesis (White Swan), a talented half-breed, was one interested in making the treaty by which the Indians eeded the land to the government. The Indians were enraged at those who consummated the act. Wabesis was also aecused by them of keeping the money paid for the purchase. Instead of killing him, as they intended, in hopes of compelling him to disgorge his ill-gotten gains, they sentenced him to remain "on the limits " by the side of this lake. A certain space was allowed him, to go beyond which was death. There he lived a num- ber of years with his family Finally, another chief, Neog- gamah, craftily enticed him beyond his bounds, induced him
15
226
MEMORIALS OF THE
to go to the "green corn feast " at Plainfield; there got him drunk, and killed him with a fire-brand. They buried him Indian fashion, in the rising bank, his head above ground; a crib built around to defend his grave. In that crib they daily placed food, tobacco, etc., for the nourishing and comfort of the dead, but now lamented, Wabesis. His skull, broken by the brand, now adorns a New England museum.
The story of Wabesis is told in by no means mediocre verse by the talented Mrs. Kutts, of Oakfield. From it, we extract the following lines on the burial of Wabesis:
" O, pitiless the hand to slay Where vengeance lured its baffled prey, While Wabasis defenseless stood, And dared the throng, athirst for blood. But, when his voice in death was still, Memories thronged, the heart to thrill; And many feet, with silent tread, Moved slow, in honor of the dead. In regal state the chief was laid, With death-dance to appease his shade. But not forgot -- for white man's gold, Their pleasant hunting grounds were sold; And when the dark night-shadows came, With many a torch-light's glaring flame, They bore the big chief to his rest Upon the highland's lifted crest. They placed him sitting on the hill, That he might see the white man till The broad plains, where his fathers sleep, When gone were all his people's feet. They placed him sitting in his grave, Where he could see the gleaming wave; And watch the white man's big canoe, When faded were the forms he knew. They placed him by the white man's trail, That he might see the stranger pale; And where his passing feet should be A long rebuke to treachery. They roofed him o'er with little trees; And bade him wait, and watch through these.
But wofully the red man rued The day their hands in blood were brued-
For, ever at the feast of corn Was heard his voice in taunting scorn;
227
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
.
And here and there his vengeful soul Led on the hunt for hidden gold; Then in some lone and tangled fell, Would ring his wild, unearthly yell. Each new moon on his grave they laid Tobacco, to appease his shade. But still the chief, who laid him low,
Grew nerveless as an unstrung bow;
And when the White Swan's drooping head
Told Indian that his soul had fled, He went not on the death-trail, lone -- The red chief, too, had with him gone."
· Were we good at telling " bear stories," we might give some from Oakfield. Bear stories are good things to scare naughty boys with, especially that one where a bear incontinently chewed up forty-three saucy boys who insulted the good minis- ter. But men learn to be but little afraid of the varmints, and rather nike to have them about. The reason is, the bear is a thick-skulled brnte, who never can be taught common sense: don't understand traps; is good game, and in a contest with man is almost sure to come out second-best. When encount- ered by men or dogs, instead of " pitching in " like a common sense hero, or manfully " retreating," he will either raise him- self on his haunches, double his fists, and say-" come on "- like a boxer, hitting right and left at the dogs, while the man has a glorious chance at him with his gun; or, like a fool, as he is, he will take to a tree; never being able to get it through his scalp that a tree is the last place for a hunted bear. Our advice to all bears is " charge or retreat." But they will never heed it; and because of their bearishness, they, of all wild beasts, are the first exterminated.
The first bear-adventure was that of William R. and John Davis, who encountered one of the biggest, as they were com- ing from their work some miles from home. They were re- turning with the trophies of the day-four raccoons-on the back of their horse, when they encountered Mr. Bruin. He, like a fool, took to a tree, and the woodman drew up the death- dealing rifle; when behold! the cap was gone, and they had not another. William eut a good switch, mounted Dutch, and thrashing him into a run, disappeared; arrived, breathless, at
228
MEMORIALS OF THE
Mr Crinnion's cabin, and panting, could only exclaim, " caps! Have you any caps?" Mrs. Crinnion, good soul, thinking he was crazy, showed him the caps she had prepared for her ex- pected baby; but he frantically thrust them aside, saying something that sounded like " darned fool;" seized a brand from the fire, mounted and " vamosed." Quick as frightened Dutch could run, he was by his brother and the bear. John took a death aim at bruin, and, when ready, gave the word to William, who held a coal.
The gun went off, and bruin fell; Four hundred weight of bear, All in a limp and bleeding mass, Gasping and dying there."
But now came the tug of war. When bruin had yielded his spirit in a long-drawn sigh, the question arose how to get him home. Whoever has attempted to handle a dead bear, will appreciate the difficulty. He is about the limpest thing in all creation. If you lift him by the ends the middle lies on the ground. If you lift him by the middle the ends are not raised. They tried to put him on the back of the old horse, but he had got his Dutch up, and though the most stolid beast that ever wagged a bob-tail, was thoroughly aroused to the indignity of carrying a bear. He cavorted and snorted, and said in the plainest horse-language: "I'll see your old bear in-the woods, first." But John, too, had got his spirit up, and he argued the case with the old horse by first blinding him with his pocket handkerchief. The horse became mcek and penitent, and the bear, after infinite labor, was loaded upon him. . They wended their way home; skinned and dressed their game, said their prayers, and slept the sleep of the righteous.
CHURCHES.
The First Baptist Church was built in 1863, at a cost of $2,200. Mr. Sheldon Ashley has the credit of being very efficient in securing its erection.
The Second Baptist Church had its origin in a revival in 1865, under the ministration of the Rev. C. C. Miller. A church of forty-two members was organized in 1866, and in 1867 they built their house. Miller continued as pastor of the church until 1871. He was followed by the Rev. R. Monroe, who stayed two years, since which time they have had no stated pastor.
229
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
This Rev. C. C. Miller is a man of his own sort, a man of decided talent -zealous in religion and politics, between which he regularly alternates. If there is a revival to be got up, he is there. When the presidential elec- tion comes around, Miller is there, also,-a leader and a power. In the county he has been a Warwiek, disposing of offices and officers at his will. yet never seeking office himself. The campaign ended, he is the parson again-takes kindly to the hymn-book and pastoral cares. Beware how you tread on his toes. He is a fighting parson, means to be right, but whether right or wrong, he will "go ahead " in what he believes is right. Go it, Miller! Religiously and politically, many call you blessed. May your shadow be like that of the Sequoia and your voice that of a son of Boanerges. Be thou still, where thou art, a terror to evil-doers, and a beacon ahead to guide the saints!
PARIS.
Paris is an outgrowth from the center at Grand Rapids. Pioneers had found the way to the Grand River and had car- ried, or sent, to other places a favorable report; and soon there was an influx of settlers and speculators, who took up all desi- rable lands within easy reach of the central places. The region was scarcely open to settlement or purchase, before there was a swarm of those, who were looking for land. About, or quite, the most desirable land around the settlement at Grand Rapids was in the township of Paris. It invited occupation; and was very soon mostly under claim.
As far as now known, the first settlers were Joel, Edward, and Daniel Guild, Barney Burton and James Vanderpool. Burton is believed to have been the first. He pitched his camp a half mile south of the Fair Grounds; securing 240 acres. Ile put up the first house and the first barn. The raising of that barn was an event. Men sufficient could not be collected; and it was got up in three days by using ingenuity.
The above mentioned persons settled in the township in 1833-4-near the northern line.
In 1834, five men-Abraham Laraway, Alexander Bouk, James Clark, Jacob Friant and Orleans Spaulding, started together from the east part of the State; came on foot a part of the way, and the rest in an Indian canoe. They did not take up land until 1836; then they located themselves in the east part of the town; and cut out a road to Grand Rapids
230
MEMORIALS OF THE
Alexander Clark came in 1834, and his brother Benjamin soon after.
In the few succeeding years we note: Nicolas Carlton, Hiram II. Allen, Alva and Jared Wansey, the three brothers Shoe- maker (De Witt, Clinton and Robert,) Stephen Hinsdill, James Ballard, Robert Barr, Thomas Davis, Ezekiel Davis, Arnott Davis, Inther Davis, Thomas Davis, Jr., and Mrs. Pattison with her three grown sons- Jacob, Minor and James.
Many of the first settlers of Paris were poor. James Patti- son says he had $7, a cow, a hog, a dog, and a wife. Minor Pattison had $2, an ax and gun. They had three months provisions. They chopped five acres the first winter. They did not consider their case a hard one. The Pattison family, their good mother at the head, had found them a home; and they worked to develop it. They did not sell out, but have ever resided where first they made their humble beginning. That part of the town is known by their name. The good old lady Pattison, having kept herself the head of the family until the last, in a venerated old age, died in 1866. She was one of the women. With energy enough to reasonably supply half a dozen, she went to work; the first two years on wages, then, as the owner of forty acres, which under her wise and energetic management grew to be 350. She came into the Valley with her five boys, two of them youngsters. She set the boys the example, and they all stuck by Mother, all swear by Mother, and all pitched their homes near Mother, in Paris or Cascade. If all' mothers were like her, we should not have so many lazy, shiftless men.
Poor Benjamin Laraway soon became blind. Notwithstand- ing, with the aid of his extra wife, he managed to get along pretty well. IIe died in 1870, having been blind thirty years.
Benjamin Clark is still on his first place. He does not swing his ax now, but smokes his pipe, reads the papers, and enjoys what he worked for.
The case of Orleans Spaulding is nor without its special in- terest. He came with but little means, and went to work, clearing his lands. In the meantime his wife died, and he was grievously afflicted with ophthalmia, so that for years he was
231
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
blind. In this state he chopped and cleared two acres of land, planted corn, and struggled for a living. During the time that he was blind, he one time went to the Rapids to see if in any way he could make a raise of something to eat. In some place of business George Evans encountered him; and, in his direct way, said to him: "Spaulding, what are you here for?" Spaulding told him his situation, and what he wanted. " Here," said Evans, " take this, and go to -'s grocery, and get what you want;" at the same time handing him an order on that grocery in Evans' favor. Spanlding took the paper, went and got three or four dollars' worth of provisions, and had them indorsed. Very thankful, he returned the order to Evans, who, looking at it and seeing the small amount indorsed, said. "Go back again, and get what you need. What you have got won't last a week. Take up the whole order." This was but the beginning. With no immediate prospect of pay, and a fair chance of losing all, he continued to force upon Spaulding his accommodations until they amounted to several hundred dollars: never hinting at payment; generously waiting until better times enabled him to cancel the legal indebtedness; and then taking, not asking, his pay. The debt of gratitude can never be canceled; and the memory of Evans, who died under a cloud, will ever be dear to Spaulding. It may here be added, parenthetically, that this conduct of Evans toward Spaulding was no exceptional instance; for, be his faults what they may. no more generous-hearted man ever lived in the Grand River Valley than George C. Evans. And probably the history of the State cannot furnish another instance where the show of justice was so shamelessly outraged as when he, for an act which showed no moral turpitnde, was sent to the State Pris- on, there to die.
The town of Paris was organized in 1839; then including Gaines. The first meeting was at the house of Hiram AAllen.
Supervisor, Joel Guild; Clerk, Hiram HI. Allen; Treasurer, Robert Barr; Justices, II. HI. Allen, HI. B. Smith, Barney Bur- ton, Alexander Clark.
On the records, as elected to other offices are, Stephen Hins- dill, Foster Kelly, Joseph H. Blain, Jacob Pattison, John
232
MEMORIALS OF THE
Kirkland, James Ballard, Ranslaer Mesnard, Joseph K. Palmer, Andrew Mesnard, Daniel Guild, Joseph J. Baxter, and Walter Palmer.
An incident connected with the writer's first year in Grand Rapids, points to the trait in the character of Robert Barr, which probably caused the Parisians to make him treasurer. The writer saw Mr. Barr in town with a load of wood, which he bought. Mr. Barr said there was half a cord in the load. There was more than half a cord. Match that, and you will indicate the man whose honesty and honor need no further proof. The load of wood is the countryman's barometer of character. We see a wood-rack wedged in at the bottom, the the stakes drawn together at the top, and we know that the man who has the load to sell is dead to honor and to shame. for he is blazoning the fact that he will cheat the first simple- minded person that he can. That man cannot be trusted on any occasion; we would not believe his plea of "Not guilty," when charged with robbing a hen-roost; and we should hesi- tate to believe his confession of "Guilty," unless the guilt was confirmed by better testimony. There is another who fills a close wagon-body with poor wood, and covers it with some that is " A, No. 1." He wishes to be considered a man; but he will bear watching. Take the eggs out out of your hens nests at night, if you have that man for a neighbor. We once bought such a load of a Paris man. Discovering his scon :- drelism, we marked him. The mean pup afterwards bragged of it.
"O wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us."
If the gods should vouchsafe to deal with such men, they would not call on the mountains to fall on them, but would be looking out for some woodchuck's hole, in which to hide themselves.
Again, you see the man with his load of wood, good or poor, manifestly showing what it is, ask him the quantity, and von find abundant measure there; seek no further evidence of character; elect him treasurer; go his bail; you are safe.
233
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
Paris has been the theatre of some incidents of thrilling interest, among which we will note the shooting of a man in mistake for a deer. A Mr. Sizer was thus shot by an Indian, in 1836, near Plaster Creek. The Indian rule is, " a life for a life," and this one, thinking his life was forfeited, went to Mr. Slater at the Mission and gave himself up. To his sur- prise he was assured that he would not be punished.
A stranger, by the name of Moore, got lost in the woods of Paris, and perished. He was found in a decomposed state, months afterward. With him were found some money, his watch and his name. ITis residence was never learned. But people recollected a man's cries in the woods, and the appear- ance at the settlement of a horse with a saddle on. They had answered the cries by blowing horns, and by searching with lanterns. Finding no one, they had let the matter pass.
To be lost is one of the common incidents of the settler's life. Do you know what it is to be lost? It is to cease to have the idea of direction-there is no north, south, east or west. Happy for the person lost if he does not in his bewilder- ment of direction, lose also his common instincts, and his common judgment. He looks around him in a maze, and starts off in some direction; goes on; stops; looks around, and goes on again. IIe shouts, and hears in return only the echoes of his own voice. Desperate, he pushes on again. ILis senses begin to reel, but he pushes on, going round and round until overcome with fatigue, he sits down by a tree, and waits for morning. In the morning he starts on again. Hunger begins to gnaw him, but he pushes on, and comes to the tree where he passed the night. With the horrible feeling of " lost," he starts again. A gleam of reason flashes over his mind: "I will find a brook, and that will lead me somewhere. Anything but this everlasting going round." To keep himself in the line he will take sights on the trees, until he finds a brook. He follows that, and it leads him, as hie expected-somewhere. If he knows the nature of the streams, acting in his reason, he can by the waters be led out to the settlements. But the more common way is to wander as if bereft of all reason, sink down and die near the place of starting.
.
234
MEMORIALS OF TIIE
During the first years of his residence in Paris, Mr. Burton had an experience of this kind. On his way from Gull Prai- rie to Grand Rapids, he, with several others, camped for the night in the wilds, spancelled their horses, and turned them out to feed. In the morning some of the horses could not be found, and Mr. Burton set out to look for them-und got lost. After wandering long, his common sense came to him, and he looked for a brook, found one, and guided by that came ont at Ada, on the third day. He knew a stream would final- ly bring him to the Grand River, as it did.
Some reminiscences of early times have been kindly furnished by II. H. Allen, Esq., an early settler, and long an hon- ored citizen. From them, we extract in substance, what fol- lows.
Mr. Allen came to Michigan in 1830, and having explored for awhile, concluded to settle at Tecumseh. In his explora- tions, he slept at many places where they had no floors in their houses, and no furniture but their boxes. In 1837, he de- cided on leaving Tecumseh, and pushed alone to the Grand River, to explore for himself; pitched upon a location, and went back for his family, his cattle, and his goods. He had rented a log house for temporary occupation. When coming in with a load, and driving some cattle and hogs. his load was mired, and the most of two days were spent in getting it out. Ilis hogs got away, and went back to Yankee Springs.
In the cold winter of 1842-3, everybody began to wonder how they should get their cattle through. Mr. A. had six- teen, and a horse or two, and it was the winter's work to save their lives. He had some feed, but it was manifest that his cattle must browse or starve, and he told them so.
He went to chopping down the oak trees and invited them to help themselves. At first they demurred; but the great persuader, hunger, brought them to terms. He chopped to save his stock; and they browsed to save their lives; and the consequence was, they all came through well, and he had four- teen acres cut down, which he otherwise would not have had. That winter is painfully recollected by all. The snow was very deep; the cold severe; and the winter long, continuing far
·
235
.
GRAND RIVER VALLEY.
into April. It is easy in a civilized land, with the appliances of civilization, to contemplate a hard, long winter. The farmer can put on his muffler and mittens, go to his barn, and fodder his cattle; then come to the house, smoke his pipe, and read the papers. But it is not so with the settler in the savage wilds. He has not his barn; and only a small stack of marsh hay; and has expected that, in the main, his cattle would piek their living in the woods. The snow comes ou deep and the cattle cannot get around. Ilis seanty stacks are becoming beautifully less every day. Ile must go to felling trees in the blinding storm; and must break paths to them for his beasts. There is to him no coming in when it snows; for the fiercer the storm, the more imperative is his labor. How welcome to him is the departure of snow, and the sprouting of the leeks. The winter before mentioned was terrible to the settlers. The hogs in general died; and cattle perished, or were pre- served by desperate labor. But spring came at last.
There are some animals, as well as men, that do not wish to die; and of such were the hogs of J. A. Allyn, of Paris, in that dreadful winter. In the middle of February they were found in a stack of marsh hay in the meadow. They had spoiled the stack, but were alive, and the most unhogish set of hogs that ever dishonored Michigan. They had lost all self-respect; and oh, how they did smell! The attar of roses was a perfume in comparison with them. Their presence was as disgusting as that of a dandy perfumed with musk, or of the more respectable "Mephitis Americanus," the French " L'enfant de diable," or the " mountain sable,"-vulgo vocato, "skunk."
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.