USA > Pennsylvania > A pioneer outline history of northwestern Pennsylvania > Part 63
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" I have not time to recapitulate the history of our country and its achievements. I can only say that what we are to-day we owe to the log cabin, the log school-house, and the pioneer school-master.
" We live in the age of steam and railroads, telegraphs, telephones, and of a free school system. "We live in an age on ages telling: to be living is sublime.' Yet you are pioneers, pioneers of a new era, an era of moral cour- age, of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man: an era of honesty. of temperance, of plenty, of virtue, of wisdom, and of peace. And you. teach ers, are the leaders in this grand new era. As such we welcome you to Brook
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ville. We welcome you most heartily as friends and neighbors. We welcome you as citizens of our county, whose hills and valleys are sacred to us. We welcome you as the children of noble, courageous, patient, toiling pioneer heroes and heroines, who subdued the savage and the wild beasts of the forests, and reclaimed these lands. We welcome you as teachers under the free school system of the great State of Pennsylvania-made great by her forests, her fertile valleys, her mountains of coal, rivers of oil, and the enterprise of her sons and daughters, and whose free school system is the continued assurance of American liberty. We welcome you as teachers in an empire whose State insignia proclaims to the world Virtue, Liberty, and Independence. We welcome each one of you to Brookville for your individual worth, and we welcome you as an aggregation of intelligent force assembled in our midst for the public good. Finally, we welcome you as teachers convened to learn more thoroughly how to impart intelligence, teach virtue, wisdom, and patriotism under our flag, the emblem of all that is dear to man and woman in and for the best government on the face of the earth."
EARLY POSTAL ROUTES AND RIDES
" More than sixty-seven years ago the first Tuesday of April, 1830, a bright, beautiful morning, I started forth from my log cabin home with a United States mail-bag, on my black pacing horse Billy, with Bob Thompson, then about my own age (twelve years), on his dwarf mule Bully, to penetrate the wilderness through a low grade of the Allegheny Mountains, between the Allegheny River at Kittanning and the west branch of the Susquehanna River at Curwensville, sixty-five miles and return each week, Robert going along to show me the way.
" I have climbed the Rockies with a burro since that period in search of gold and silver, but I have never met either so primitive a people or a rougher route of sixty-five miles than that wilderness route. The post-offices were Glade Run, Smicksburg, Ewing's Mill, Punxsutawney, and Curwensville. The first of these was eighteen miles from Kittanning, near where is now the little town of Dayton.
" In about three months the route was changed up the Cowanshannock, and the Rural Valley post-office established about two miles above Patterson's mill. The changed route intersected the old one at Glade Run post-office. The next place east of Glade Run was the residence of George McComb, where I rested for dinner and fed my horse. A stretch of over two miles brought me to Smicksburg, as now spelled, but the original founder spelled his name Schmick. Mr. Carr, the blacksmith, was postmaster. For more than four miles there was not a single house on the road, though a cabin was to be seen in the distance, until I reached Ewing's Mill, another post-office. My place of lodging for the first night was with James McComb, four miles from Punxsutawney, and never did a boy find a more pleasant home.
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" The second day I rode ten miles for breakfast, passing Punxsutawney, where Dr. Jenks was postmaster. The town was a mere hamlet, principally a lumbering camp, surrounded with the finest of white pine, which was rafted in hewed logs down Mahoning Creek to the Allegheny River, and thence to Pittsburg. It is a rapid, rocky, crooked stream, and the logs were hewed square to make their transit over safe, both by reducing their size and securing a smooth, even surface. Six miles farther on was a farm, a few acres, the home of Andrew Bowers, where I ate breakfast, then entered a wilderness of sixteen miles. Those sixteen miles of wilderness were then a most dismal district of country, heavily timbered with pine, spruce, hemlock, and chestnut, with much undergrowth of laurel. In this dreary waste I saw every animal native to the clime, except the panther, of which more hereafter.
" After emerging from this wilderness, in which the sun was never visible, there was a settlement of Quakers, known as the Grampian Hills, near the centre of which was a fine farm, the home of a colored man, Samuel Cochran. where I took dinner, and then passed on to Curwensville, the end of my route. I returned to Cochran's for the second night's rest. The object of this return was to be ready to enter the wilderness and give good time to get through it before the shades of evening had fallen. Once I realized the wisdom of this plan when high water delayed me, so that I was compelled to stop at Bowers's place for the night and ride through the wilderness twice in a day, entering at the dawn of morning and reaching the place of departure amid darkness.
" Was I lonely? If the shriek of the panther, the growl of the bear, the howling of the wolf, the hooting of the owl is society, I was far from lonely. When I realized my situation I drove the spurs into my horse and rushed him with all his speed. My heart-beats seemed to drown the racket of his hoofs upon the stony road. The return was but a repetition of the outgoing journey. I never made such a trip again.
" My predecessor was John Gillespie, of whose history since I know nothing, but there was a story that in his ambition to create a favorable im- pression of the importance of his charge he frequently horrified a good Pres- byterian preacher, who was the Glade Run postmaster, by stuffing the mail- bag with crab-apples, and made indignant the good Mrs. McComb, where he had lodged the night previously, by laying the mischief to the McComb children. A plethoric mail-bag always opened the eyes of the rural postmaster. and it was fun to John to witness the indignation of the good Mr. Jenks and hear the screaming of laughter of the villagers, just arrived to get the latest news, when a peck of crab-apples, but no letter, rolled out on the floor at Punxsutawney.
" Those were the days of William T. Barry as postmaster-general. I used to collect government's moiety in each of the little post-offices in driblets of five to ten dollars, with the plain signature of 'Wm. T. Barry. P. M. G .. '
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attached to the orders, and looked at the great man's name with admiration, until I really think I could distinguish his handwriting now.
"On more than two-thirds of the little farms no wagon-tracks were to be seen, all the work being done with sleds. Nevertheless, there were occa- sional freighters through the wilderness, generally loaded with salt. The only stores in that sixty miles were one at Glade Run and one at Punxsutawney. The people made all their own clothes. Nearly every family that had a daughter as old as fourteen years had a weaver. The blooming miss who learned that art was an artist indeed. It was a treat for the boys who had no sister weaver to carry the yarn to the neighbor girl and help her adjust the web for the work. Their clothes were made from the backs of the sheep and the flax in the field. The girls wore linsey-woolsey and the boys linen and tow shirts, and indeed full suits of the same for common work. The fine clothes for the girls were barred flannel of their own spinning, and the boys satinet,-then generally called cassinet,-flax, and wool. The preachers and the teachers were reverenced and respected, but woe unto them if they even seemed to put on airs on account of their 'store clothes.'
" Many were the expedients for social gatherings; but to these brave, industrious pioneers it was essential to unite business with pleasure, and I rarely heard of a party which was not utilized for the advancement of im- provements on the farm. The singing-school was the only exception. In the log-rolling, the wood-chopping, the flax-scutching, the sheep-shearing, all the neighbors would go the rounds helping each other, in the spirit of the song,-
"'Let the wide world wag as it will, We'll be gay and happy still.'
"'Scutching' was the term used for the primitive mode of separating the woody part of the flax from the fibre used in weaving cloth, and a scutching was a jolly party, in which the boys took the heavier part, and passed the ' hank' to the girls for the lighter, more delicate work of polishing.
" Thus the logs were rolled in the clearings, the flax and wool prepared for the loom, and the firewood made ready for the winter. But the most primitive, most amusing, and the merriest gathering of all was the kicking frolic.
" It is doubtful whether any of the readers of this book have ever seen a kicking frolic. Let me try to describe it. As I have said, the people made all their own clothes in those days. After the web was woven, the next process was fulling, whereby the cloth was properly shrunken for use. Gen- erally it was taken to fulling-mills, but in some parts they were so far away and so expensive that the wits of the pioneers were compelled to invent a substitute. One night, at my journey's end for the day, near Punxsutawney, I was invited to go with the McComb boys to Henderson's kicking. The girls
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of the whole neighborhood had spent the afternoon at quilting, for the quilting was an accompaniment of nearly all the other frolics, and at dark the boys assembled for the kicking. The good old Mrs. Henderson had prepared a boiler full of soapsuds. The web of cloth was placed on the kitchen floor,-a floor generally made from puncheons,-that is, logs split and smoothed with the axe and adze. Around the web was placed a circle of chairs, with a plough- line or a clothes-line circling the chairs, to hold the circle together for work. Thus equipped the boys took off shoes and stockings, rolled up their pants to their knees, placed themselves on the chairs in the circle, and then the kicking began. The old lady poured on the soapsuds as hot as the boys' feet could stand, and they sent the web whirling and the suds splashing to the ceiling of the kitchen, and thus the web was fulled to the proper thickness and dimensions. Despite the good Mrs. Henderson's protestations that 'the hard work would kill the boys,' I stripped and went in, and never did a boy so sweat in his life. The work was done. The barred flannel was ready for the girls' dresses, the blankets for the beds, and the satinet for the boys' clothes. A merrier time boys and girls never enjoyed, nor did a party ever have a better supper than Mrs. Henderson prepared. There was no dance, but the kissing plays of the time lent zest to the occasions, and
"' In the wee sma' hours ayont the twal'
all returned to happy homes.
" The threshing machinery was unknown to the farmers anywhere, and the flail did the work of threshing. Even the fanning-mill was uncommon, as I remember of but three on all that route. There was a mode of winnowing grain by three men, one shaking the wheat in the chaff through a ridder or sieve, and two waving a tightly drawn sheet, producing wind to separate the chaff from the grain.
" In places I have seen hand-mills for grinding corn and wheat. They had an upper and nether millstone, the upper stone being turned by a . handle' standing nearly perpendicularly above the centre of the stone.
" In the wilderness was every animal native to the clime .- the deer, the wild turkey, the fox, the raccoon, the wolf, the porcupine, the bear. and the panther. There I have seen scores of such animals. Frequently I have met bears in pairs, but I never saw a panther, though I frequently heard their familiar screams. It was a shy animal, but considered the most dangerous of all wild animals. On one occasion, when near the middle of that wilderness of sixteen miles, I was startled by the fearful screamis of a panther, which. from the sound, seemed fast approaching me. Hurriedly breaking a limb from a spruce tree, I lashed my horse into all his speed: still the screams became more distinct and frightful. I had perhaps run my horse a quarter of a mile, when a bear rushed through the thick underbrush across the road.
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not more than two rods ahead of me, the screaming of the panther sounding as if he was not a rod behind in the brush. The bear never stopped to look at me, and I plied my stick to the horse's back, shoulder, and flank with all my power, running him until the sounds gradually died away, and the exhausted horse gave out and I was compelled to slacken my speed. My first stopping- place was at the house of Mr. Andrew Bowers, at the edge of the wilderness. I told him my story, and he replied, 'John, that was a " painter," and that " painter" was after that bear, and if he had come up to that bear when you were near it, he would have jumped onto you quicker than the bear. Now, John,' he continued, ' don't run, nor don't advance on it. If you do either, the " painter" will attack you. But just stop and look the " painter" in the eye, and by and by he will quietly walk off.'
" I have twice seen in the wilderness that rarest of animals, the black fox, whose fur rivals the seal and the sable in ladies' apparel.
"Did I ever see ghosts? Of course I did. What could a poor post-boy know of cause and effect in the wilderness which has since developed some of the most wonderful gas-wells of the age? In that wild country the ignis fatuus was frequently seen. Once I saw a floating light in the darkness, and in my fright was trotting my horse at his best speed, when he stumbled on a rock, throwing me clear over his head, the mail-bag following. I grabbed the bags and was on my horse's back before he could get off his knees. The ' ghost' in the mean time had vanished. At another time, when about half-way between Smicksburg and Punxsutawney, a light as brilliant, it seemed to me, as Paul saw on his way to Damascus, shot up under my horse. I grabbed my hat, as my hair seemed to stand on end. I was so alarmed that I told my story to the postmaster at Ewing's Mill, and he relieved my mind greatly by explaining the phenomenon. He said, 'Was there snow on the ground?' 'Yes.' And then he went on to relieve my fears in the most kindly way, telling me that all the stories about ghosts, spooks, and hobgoblins could be explained on natural principles. He said that at times natural gas exuded from between the rocks, and that the snow confined it, and that my horse's shoe had struck fire from the flinty rock, and the gas exploded. I believed him, and my ghost story was exploded, too, but I would have killed a horse before I would have ventured over that spot in night-time again.
" The boys of that period had as much fun in their composition as those of the present age. One Hallowe'en we sauntered ' on fun intent' near where Dayton now stands. We lodged a yearling calf in a hay-mow, changed the hind wheels of the only two wagons in the neighborhood to the forward axles, and vice versa, robbed a loom and strung the maiden's web from tree to tree across the road, and changed the natural order of things generally. I remem- ber especially that in our mischief we accidentally broke a window in the house of a good old couple. We repaid damages by a boy slipping up and depositing fifty cents on the sill of the broken window. The old people were
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so universally esteemed that malicious mischief would have been investigated ; but whether the motive for recompense was remorse for a bad act or esteem for their two beautiful daughters with raven locks and black eyes, this boy will only confess for himself. The McComb boys reported that one of the girls called on the way to the store the next day for glass and expressed the gratitude of the family for the kind consideration of the boys in making restitution.
" I distinctly remember how we all put in our utmost strength to place a log endwise against the door of Dr. Sims's house, so as to press it inward with such force that an urgent call before morning compelled the doctor to crawl out of the window."-Punxsutawney News.
In the fall of 1852 I made my pioneer trip as a mail-boy on the " Star route" from Brookville to Ridgway, Pennsylvania. In 1852 this was still a horseback service of once a week and was to be performed as follows :
Leave Brookville Tuesday at five o'clock A.M. and arrive at Ridgway same day at seven o'clock P.M. Leave Ridgway Wednesday at five o'clock A.M. and arrive same day at Brookville at seven o'clock P.M.
The proprietor of the route was John G. Wilson, then keeping the Ameri- can Hotel in Brookville. To start the service on schedule time was easy enough, but to reach the destined point in the schedule time was almost impos- sible. The mail was usually from one to three hours late. Indeed, it could not be otherwise, for the route was through a wilderness, over horrid roads. and about seven miles longer than the direct road between the points.
It was too much work in too short a time for one horse to carry a heavy mail-bag and a boy. On my first trip I left Brookville at five A.M., James Corbet, the postmaster, placing the bag on the horse for me. I rode direct to Richardsville, where William R. Richards, the pioneer of that section, was postmaster. From Richardsville I went to Warsaw, where Moses B. St. John was postmaster. He lived on the Keys farm near the Warsaw grave- yard. From St. John's I rode by way of what is now John Fox's to the Beechwoods, McConnell farm, or Alvin post-office, Alex. McConnell, post- master. From Alvin I went direct to what is now Brockwayville for dinner. Dr. A. M. Clarke was postmaster, and it was at his house I ate, to my disgust. salt rising bread.
The doctor and his father lived in a large frame house near where the old grist-mill now stands. The old up and down saw-mill across the creek was then in operation. C. K. Huhn I think lived near it. The old frame school-house stood on a prominence near the junction of the Brookville and Beechwoods roads. Henry Dull, one of the pioneer stage-drivers in Jefferson County, lived in an old frame building near where D. D. Groves now resides. and John Mclaughlin lived in an old log house down by the Rochester depot.
With these exceptions, all west of the creek in what is now Brockwayville was a wilderness. East of the creek the bottom land was cleared and along
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the road on each side was a log fence. W. D. Murray and the Ingalls family lived near the Pennsylvania depot.
There was no other family or store or industry to my recollection in what is now the beautiful town of Brockwayville.
About five miles up the Little Toby, and in Elk County, Mrs. Sarah Oyster kept a licensed hotel, and the only licensed tavern in that year outside of or between Brookville and Ridgway. Near this hotel Stephen Oyster lived, and had erected a grist-mill and saw-mill. Oyster was postmaster, and the office was named Hellen Mills.
Stephen Oyster's house and mills were alongside or on the pioneer road into this region. The road was surveyed and opened about 1812, and over it the pioneers came to Brandy Camp, Kersey, and Little Toby. Fox, Norris & Co. owned about one hundred and forty thousand acres of land in this vicinity, and desiring to open these lands for settlement, employed William Kersey, a surveyor, to survey, open a road, and build a mill on their lands.
Kersey and his men started his road on the Susquehanna River near Luthersburg, on the old State Road, crossed over Boone's mountain, reached Little Toby at what is now Hellen, went up the creek seven miles, over what is called " Hog Back Hill" to a point on Elk Creek near where Centreville now is, and then located and built " Kersey Mill."
Kersey had an outfit and a number of men, and erected shanties wherever necessary while at his work. One of these he built on Brandy Camp. Among other necessaries, Kersey had some choice brandy with him. The men longed for some of this brandy, but Kersey kept it for himself. One day in the absence of Kersey the cabin burned down.
On Kersey's return he was chagrined, but the men told him that the Indians in the neighborhood had drunk his brandy and burned the shanty. This story had to be accepted, and hence the stream has ever since been called Brandy Camp. "The Travellers' Home Hotel" was on this stream. It was famous for dancing parties, blackberry pies, and sweet cake, but was closed this year and occupied as a private residence by a man named Brown.
Night came upon me at the farm of Joel Taylor, and through nine miles of wilderness and darkness I rode at a walk. There was a shanty at Boot- jack occupied by a man named McQuone. From Taylor's to Ridgway was a long ride to me. It was a wearisome time.
I reached Ridgway, a small village then, about nine o'clock P.M. John Cobb was postmaster, and the office was in his store, near where Powell's store is now. My horse knew the route perfectly, and I left all details to her.
Two hotels existed in the village, the Exchange, kept by David Thayer, near the river, and the Cobb House, kept by P. T. Brooks, on the ground where Messenger's drug-store now is. My horse stopped at the Cobb. For some reason the house was unusually full that night, and after supper I expressed to the landlord a doubt about a bed.
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Mr. Brooks patted me on the back and said, " Never mind, my son, I'll take care of you, I'll take care of you." Bless his big heart, he did. Boy- like, my eyes and ears were open. I took in the town before leaving it. The only pavement was in front of the Gillis house. I knew of the Judge's repu- tation as a Morgan killer, and I wanted to see where and how he lived. I had seen him in Brookville many a time before that.
There was a board fence around the public square. Charles Mead was sheriff, and lived in the jail. The village had a doctor, one Chambers. The school-teacher was W. C. Niver, afterwards Dr. Niver, of Brockwayville. Pennsylvania.
Of the village inhabitants then, I can recall these: Judge Gillis, E. C. Derby, M. L. Ross, Henry Souther, Caleb Dill, James Love, J. C. Chapin. Lebbeus Luther, a hunter and great marksman; Lafe Brigham, 'Squire Par- sons, E. E. Crandal, Charles McVean, Judge Dickinson, J. S. Hyde, and Jerome Powell, editor of the Advocate.
In January, 1855, I carried the mail one trip on horseback to Warren from Ridgway. A man by the name of Lewis was the proprietor, and he boarded at Luther's. I performed this service free, as I was anxious to see Warren.
I had to start from Ridgway on Friday night at nine P.M., ride to Mont- morenci, and stop all night. A family by the name of Burrows lived there. I stopped on Saturday in Highland for dinner at Townley's. There was living in that township then Wells, Ellithorpe, Campbell, and Townley. I arrived in Warren Saturday after dark, and stayed over night at the Carver house. I returned on Sunday from Warren to Ridgway, and the weather being intensely cold, " I paid too dear for my whistle."
PENNSYLVANIA SYSTEM OF RAILROADS-PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD-INCEPTION. CONCEPTION, AND COMPLETION-HORSE-CAR-ENGINE-PIONEER PRESI- DENT-PIONEER RESTAURANT-PURCHASE FROM STATE-RAILROAD AGIT.\- TION AND EXPERIMENT-LOCOMOTIVE-FUEL-COACHES-SLEEPERS-UNI- FORMS-FREIGHTAGE-ORIGIN OF THE PASS SYSTEM-DISCRIMINATION WHEN THE PIONEER TRAIN RAN INTO PITTSBURG FROM PHILADELPHIA
I am indebted to Sipes's as well as Wilson's histories of the Pennsylvania Road for some data and facts.
What is now the Pennsylvania system has evoluted from agitation and experience. John Stephens, of New Jersey, advocated. in 1812, the use of steam in land-carriages. When he was seventy-four years old the Legislature of Pennsylvania, at his earnest appeal, passed an act, on March 31. 1823. to " incorporate a company to erect a railroad from Philadelphia to Lancaster." Nine wealthy and influential men were made incorporators. John Connelly. of Philadelphia, was named as president of the company. So little confidence was had in the scheme that five thousand dollars could not be raised from any
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source to start the enterprise, hence the Legislature, in 1826, repealed the charter. Several charters were granted after this, but they all perished from indifference or opposition. In 1827 the State, through the canal commission- ers, ordered a series of surveys to be made, and a report made in 1827 by Major John Wilson, one of the surveyors, induced the Legislature to pass the act of March 24, 1828, authorizing the construction of a railroad by the State, from Philadelphia through Lancaster to Columbia. In April, 1829, forty miles of track were laid, twenty at each terminal. In April, 1834, the single track clear through was opened and connected with the Pennsylvania Canal, and on April 16 the first train of cars with an engine started over the line. To provide against accident, a horse-car followed this train with horse relays. Horse relays were twelve miles apart.
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