USA > Wisconsin > Sauk County > A standard history of Sauk County, Wisconsin, Volume I > Part 57
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Another noted teacher in those early days was William Rhodes, a bachelor past middle life. He came from Pennsylvania and was a typical teacher of olden time. He knew only the English branches, but these he could teach better than is usually done at the present time. His summers were usually devoted to farm work with some of his friends in the neighborhood. Darius Palmer also taught here in the early days to the great satisfaction of all; a man of native growth and spotless reputation, with a sincere relish for learning which made him almost one with the pupils in study. Space almost forbids the mention of any of a long list of lady teachers of varying excellence who graced with their presence the summer terms during those far away days.
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HOME LIFE BY EXAMPLES
The home life in those days is best understood by examples of fami- lies. None have left a pleasanter impression in person and surroundings than that of Isaac Palmer, brother of the teacher and for many years the town supervisor. The family lived between the river and the bold south bluff on a large farm of wonderfully diversified resources. They had besides the usual grain products, honey, maple sugar of home make, apples at a time when apple growing in Wisconsin was a problem almost unsolved. Abundance of everything to eat and wear, and mostly of home production, best describes the Palmer home. In those days deer were plentiful on the hills and venison was a common food here in the winter time. But I must not omit the description of the pater and mater familias of this typical Greenfield home of the early days. He was tall and lanky, a regular old Abe Lincoln of a man, but he was manly every inch, else he could not have represented the town so long as its supervisor. He was public spirited, interested in education, industrious to a fault, which brought on maladies almost too great to bear. He could lay a wall of masonry, as well as make all the butter on the farm, to the great relief of his faithful spouse. In sickness among poor or well to do, he was a willing watcher and nurse. He was temperate in his habits at a time when Roper's Distillery, over the bluffs near Merrimack. furnished the doubtful help in haying time and harvest to many of the field workers in exchange for a few bushels of rye or corn. But the wife of this man was a jewel of the first water. Her heart was boundless. Not a child in the neighborhood but found her good company. She never grew old. Of a strong frame, a brunette, she had a pleasant eye that helped out the most winning expression you ever met; she went about her daily tasks, a veritable helpmeet.
They were New England people and, of course, must have all the latest improvements. But what vexation they occasioned. How she shed bitter tears more than once in trying to operate the latest Singer sewing machine. None of the neighborhood gossip was ever traced to her door, which I aver covers about all that can be said in praise of any of her sex.
FARM, A MANUFACTORY
In those days strictly housekeeping was not all of a housewife's sphere of activity ; the ordinary farm was almost a manufacturing plant which required attention to many details. Had the agricultural society offered prizes for the best housekeeping, this good woman would scarcely have entered the competition, for she was too candid to appear different than she was. There were many others, though, who would have puzzled the judges in making the award, and which would doubtless have been divided between several; it might have been Mesdames Peter Cooper,
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Austin Tueker, Jno. Monroe, Geo. W. Tucker, Win. Carrol on the south bluff, Nathan Dennison or a score of other ladies who kept their homes like the busy bees, waxlike in absolute order and tidiness.
But these were not all the hard workers in that community. None could rival John Monroe, whose farm bordered on the river and was erossed by the highway of the Baraboo. By sheer toil, he was able to build a commodious farm house with barn of ample size at a time when old ones were yet habitable. But the times also favored. He could realize $2.50 a bushel for wheat grown with enormous yield, on the river bottom lands one year. No man was ever more worthy the fruit of his toil. I have sometimes thought that he almost sacrificed himself to work. I think it may be safely said that no unkind word ever escaped his lips. He had always a genial greeting for young and old. As his spouse is still blessing the earth by living, I shall save her the pain of recounting her excellence till later.
In the list of downright workers, Allen Barstow is certainly entitled to a high place, though his object was not so much what we call property, as means of recreation. He wanted and enjoyed the finest carriage the day afforded, while most of his neighbors rode in lumber and farm wagons because they must. His vehicle of beauty was earned by gath- ering from the surrounding domain hickory hoop poles, which the flour mills of P. A. Basset and the barrel factory run in connection, at Bara- boo, provided a ready and remunerative market. Gilbert Harmon must not be overlooked among the knights of industry. By night and day he literally wrung from the tight grip of nature a fine farm on the foot hills of the great south bluffs, and not content with conquering there, provided almost a city home near Baraboo. What a lesson these patient workers have been to the young men of Greenfield, showing that however small the beginning, unremitting toil and economy will win out as they should. Mention has been made of the long-time supervisor. Albert Kellogg was the long-time town clerk, and a good one, too. The men of that day had the knack of choosing the right man for the place and kept on choosing him. Such was Albert Kellogg. the typical gentle- man farmer, always in trim personally, and likewise all his belongings; scareely if ever seen at work, yet with work always done, and in season, too, and life no drudgery. It always seemed as if he took life easier, with less frietion than others, which was pleasing to behold. He should have lived to be a centenarian according to the latest view of not worry- ing. But we had eccentric people also. Need I mention the New York City farmer, Van Pelt, as one ? Well, I think he would pass as such, the funniest man in town, but didn't know it. If John Monroe and Albert Kellogg had everything tidy and in season, he had the opposite. It was his way to let the house run itself, as well as the fields. What if the hay and grain almost rotted in the shock and later in the stack? It was his way. But in justice it must be said he seemed to enjoy it. Though
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in person reminding one of the ghost of famine, he had enough to supply his modest wants, and managed always to have a good location for farm- ing of his kind.
FIRST SUCCESSFUL APPLE GROWING IN STATE
I think that to Greenfield belongs the honor of having first made apple growing in Wisconsin a success. While the Palmers did their part, especially Darius, to Alonzo Butterfield belongs the laurel wreath in this race for victory. Just around the north bluffs of the valley near the Narrows, he won his success. His father before him had done some- thing praiseworthy in that direction, but Alonzo reaped the advantage of all previous efforts.
But we had notable people in other ways in those days. . Need I mention George W. Tucker? Not to those over fifty. He was a born genius in animal industry. He could perform successful surgical opera- tions on our domestic animals that would put many of our later-day surgeons to blush. He never had the advantage of the schools in his profession, but was himself a whole medical college. I must not omit either his talent for telling stories that interested the young. In this field, he would shine in the presence of Bret Harte or any other of the ยท short-story celebrities. Above all, he was a good neighbor. All he had, time, personal effort, possessions, were at the disposal of his neighbors. He gave the site for a cemetery from his modest farm.
What more need I say? That there are spots on the sun? Yes, but the brightness almost hides them.
RELIGIOUS LIFE AND CAMP MEETINGS
The religious life of those days was mostly in the keeping of the Methodists. The schoolhouses were the meeting houses and many an itinerant elder of that persuasion made himself familiar to believers as well as the non-believers. Protracted meetings that were really pro- traeted, afforded opportunity to many a family to pass the long winter evenings. One word must justly be said of the religious life of those days; for the most part it was sineere, in sharp contrast with the present. Who ever doubted the genuine religion of Peter Cooper, who shed it all about him, not only in speech, but in kindly deeds? Early on the winter morns, driving a double sleigh load of boys and girls, was no
* In justice to those who early made efforts at fruit growing it should be stated that Judge James A. Clark introduced the Duchess apple and set out the first tree of this variety in the state. Isaac and Darius Palmer were the first in the town to go into the orchard business, raising apples for commercial purposes. Lewis Butter- field early engaged also in apple culture and had a fine orchard. Alonzo Butterfield was the son of Lewis Butterfield.
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infrequent occurrence with him. With a stately presence, he had the refined features of a woman, and woe be it to him who dared to overstep the bounds of what was right and proper as he saw it. Methinks we have a place for more such men in the present time. The Adventists also labored in this field and held many camp meetings, always well attended.
The romantic scenery on every hand made these camp meetings very attractive to everybody, especially the lads and lasses who had such fine opportunities to visit. Elder Barnes was the great preacher on these occasions. He knew the Bible by heart, I must say, and could present a very plausible tissue of arguments from stringing together selected passages that satisfied himself as well as his followers. They were good people all, in this denomination, and tried to live the doctrine they heard preached. Later eame the church which the Germans preferred. They had gradually encroached on the exclusively New England east of the community.
DEATH OF LITTLE ONES
Among the early dead to hallow the new cemetery on the Tucker farm was the little son of Mr. Capener, the music teacher, accidentally drowned one summer evening while swimming with companions in the Baraboo River near the haying fields. Being in the pomp of summer a meeting place for the funeral was improvised of green boughs on the school grounds. Here was about the saddest observance one ever finds; the youth of the unfortunate, the suddenness of his going while in glowing health, and the sharp contrast between the face of nature at that season and the sorrow within, combined to deepen the gloom. It was a Metho- dist service. The hymn was, "The morning flowers display their sweets and gay their silken leaves unfold."
Still earlier was the death of the little son of the poor old sawyer, Harris, at the Garrisonville sawmill. Abjeet poverty and destitution were the cause of this. The mill had stopped and of course the sawyer's wages. They lived in a shanty on the hillside, just as good as a mansion during the long bright days of summer, but when the north wind of winter came whistling through the narrows with tooth even sharper than Shakespeare says will the waters warp, then the little barefoot boy was in exile. Shoes were too much of a luxury for the depleted household treasury. But ventures out on sunny days brought on the inevitable cold that deepened into fever. How faithfully the good neighbors took turns watching over the little sufferer during the long winter nights, and for- tunate if by great industry sufficient warmth could be provided for comfort! When the end came, some chestnut boards from the mill yard were fashioned into a modest receptacle for the little form and in this no one knows the spot on the hillside where tender hands laid it away
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forevermore. In those days before the cra of cemeteries, secluded spots for burial were not uncommon, like that of Jesse Cammel, the old blacksmith just opposite the home of Aunt Sarah Wilkinson, smiling with flowers, on the road to Portage. The good Greenfield people always took death so hard, I think because they were so much attached to one another. When the wife of Allen Barstow died in the bloom of carly womanhood, the whole town went into mourning, and though in the early springtime with roads almost impassable, the funeral procession required quite an hour to pass on its way to the burial at Baraboo.
THE WILKINSONS
But no account of the old Greenfield days would be sufficient without mention of one distinguished family-I mean the Wilkinsons. The pervasive influence of the men and women alike remind one of the his- toric family of Gracchus in ancient Rome, which by simple gentleness of character in its members was sufficient to sweeten two centuries of strife. Aaron Wilkinson was the founder, a man so pious that he would not have a lightning rod on his buildings for fear of its defying the Almighty. He was a whole church in himself. He needed no latter-day aids such as meeting houses. To him the groves were God's first temples. He dwelt as in the sight of Him who art invisible. What wonder that such a patriarch should have had such offspring! They simply inherited their excellence.
HUNTING AND FISHING
Hunting and fishing were not unknown in those days. The dam at Garrisonville set back the waters of the Baraboo River so that the mouth of almost every creek far above was a good spearing pond for pickerel, catfish, buffalo and suckers. Pine bluff furnished the fat pine for the torches, likewise the long pine knots of decayed trees dug from its out- skirts. Many a spring evening in the busy seeding time was spent by the neighbors in this entrancing sport that banished weariness of labor and supplied the families with the finny delicacies. Great schools of catfish with their long fringes of waving feelers about their broad mouths disported themselves in plain sight about the entrance of the little streams, but only to tantalize the wondering eyes of the small boys who could scarce get their elders to believe what were too often stamped, fish stories.
Then the feathered tribe was not missing. In the early springtime, mornings, the whole valley was not only flooded with sunshine driving away the last lingering traces of winter, but the song of the grouse or prairie chicken in mating season fairly flooded it with music also. The continuous bass notes of the male staccatoed with the piping of the hens
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kept up this strange, weird entertainment till long past sunrise. One spring, the passenger pigeons visited us in such multitudes as not only to threaten the wheatfields newly seeded with having to be done again, but at nightfall, filled every grove, often to breaking down large limbs under the great weight. Every old shotgun and musket capable of throwing shot or fine gravel was brought into use, and how anxiously the assembled neighbors, boys and all, armed like the embattled farmers who fired the shot heard round the world, waited breathlessly in ambush the coming of the feathered host, when upon an agreed signal, a whole volley was fired, each on his chosen cluster of victims, whereupon a deaf- ening flutter of wings, and the vast multitude had gone, leaving the ground strewn with the fallen. Many a toothsome dinner the next day rewarded the effort which was mostly sport after all. And I must not forget "bob white" in the winter time, and how a common wagon or sleigh box, inverted, served as a trap when a long rope was pulled to let it fall over many dozen of these plump little, white-meated creatures, so rare always to the palate. Of course every boy had his deadfall and figure-four trap in the rabbit runs, which afforded enough sport for the trouble and likewise somewhat protected the apple trees from the depre- dations of these rodents.
SONGS OF THE GERMAN FARMERS
And there was other open-air recreation in the winter season. The German bluff dweller had no meadows or hay, so they went to the great marsh to the north. In the winter mornings long processions of ox teams drawing sleds with hay racks could be seen going after the hay that had been cut and stacked on the great marsh. At such times these German farmers would often sing some familiar song of the fatherland, for they were all good singers. No chorus of the latter days has ever to me approached the excellence the melody of that symphony heard in the bright winter mornings swelling up through the frosty valleys of that hill country. The performers were not doing it for pay, but from the fullness of their happy hearts, which even in those days were quite satisfied.
Portage City was the market town in those days. We could hear the long drawn out whistle of the locomotive on the St. Paul line coming over the great marsh to the North, even before we had ever seen how a locomotive looked. It was profusely ornamented with brass trimmings as bright as burnished gold, and in the glistening sunshine was some- thing of a marvelous beauty to behold.
As I close this imperfect and desultory chronicle of the old days in Greenfield, should some inquisitive reader inquire where all the bad people were in those days, my answer is, not in Greenfield. Some they did have over in Columbia County, but very few crossed the Wisconsin
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River in those days on account of the risky ferry and, later, the still more dangerous bridge.
MEMORIES OF VANISHED MEN AND WOMEN
In taking leave of these good old days, let me say that the vanished forms of kind neighbors pass before my eyes again. I see their kindly faees and hear their gentle voices. I am wondering why I cannot live a life of such sweetness and sincerity as they lived to their dying day. Should I visit the old homes, other faces would greet me and other voices would speak the word of welcome, but I should feel like Wash- ington Irving when he visited England, "As I stepped upon the soil of my forefathers, and felt that I was a stranger in the land."
Mr. Capener was the music teacher for the whole town, and for many winters held singing classes in the various schools. He was an English- man of mild manners. It is doubtful whether he could have sung a piece of music acceptably, yet, withal, he was a good drill master and laid the foundations well for anyone who had talent to go on.
Then there was the itinerant writing master, Clark, reminding one of an animated pumpkin seed in trousers. He likewise taught his art during the long winter evenings to many who may thank him for their good penmanship. His field of activity widened until almost the whole county was covered by this indefatigable little man.
The amusements in those days were in the wintertime, mostly confined to the spelling schools, surprise parties at the homes, as well as occasional large dancing parties or balls, the latter great occasions, which haunted the imaginations of the lads and lassies long afterwards.
Before this time, the horse race after eorn planting, was too common with its liquor and gambling accompaniment, which proved harmful to most of the young men who took part. Their better nature finally asserted itself, and the practice gradually lost interest and died out to the good of the whole community. One horse race left more heart burn- ings, jealousies, not to say unkind rivalries, than the pretty girls of Greenfield could overcome in a year.
Though the men of Greenfield have mostly concerned us, don't think there are no women of note, and home productions, too. These were Harriet Tucker and . Ellen Palmer, who stand out in strong relief above the usual monotony of country life. These two Greenfield girls, although unlike in other respects, were the same in this, that each succeeded in winning more husbands than even the fabled goddesses of antiquity. This may be accounted no slight praise when it is considered that men call themselves pretty good judges of the opposite sex. Without any special help but their own personalties, these two girls stepped out onto the world's highway and were not afraid to run in the raee for the supremacy they sought. We instinetively pay homage to genius, if not
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aptitude. To stand in the presence of either of these women would impress one that such are no common folk. Harriet was a born singer. At sixteen, scarcely the lark or nightingale could surpass in native song. All day long was heard her happy voice before the great wide world had revealed its secrets, no doubt to many unwelcome, just the same as all the rest of mankind. Ellen was intelligence personified. She had no need of books or schools; her active brain was sufficient in every case.
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CHAPTER XXIII
PICTURES OF SOUTHERN SAUK COUNTY
TOWNS ADJOINING SPRING GREEN-TOWN OF TROY-BEAR CREEK -- FRANKLIN'S FIRST SETTLERS-HONEY CREEK-SCHOOLS IN TROY- LAST LOG SCHOOLHOUSE IN THE COUNTY-JOHN WILSON, OF WILSON'S CREEK-EARLY TIMES IN THE HONEY CREEK VALLEY-NAMING OF SPRING GREEN-NAMING OF HONEY CREEK AND TROY-HARRISBURG AND CASSELL PRAIRIE-TWENTY INDIANS TO ONE WHITE-PLAIN AND WHITE MOUND.
The townships of Spring Green, Troy, Honey Creek, Franklin and Bear Creek embrace not only some of the most fertile and charming tracts in the valleys of Honey and Bear Creeks, but the most beautiful and productive stretches of the Wisconsin River Valley itself. Like the eastern townships, they were early settled, especially Troy and Spring Green adjacent to the parent stream. The sketches which follow require no further introduction.
TOWNS ADJOINING SPRING GREEN By F. J. Finn (1906)
"Comment upon and rumor of a prospective semi-centennial cele- bration for Spring Green seems to have awakened considerable interest among the residents of adjoining towns, and incidentally created a demand for information regarding the early history of those adjacent towns, including Troy, Franklin, Bear Creek and Honey Creek, geographically including the settlements of Cassell and Black Hawk.
TOWN OF TROY
"The town of Troy is perhaps the more important of this group, inasmuch as it is the largest in topographical area, containing as it does fifty-three sections, and being, therefore, the, largest in area of any Sauk county town, and embracing with its southern borders the inter- esting little settlement called Cassell. I am unable to find anything bearing upon the origin of the name, Troy, as herein applied, but find that the settlement of Cassell was so named in honor of a Dr. Cassell,
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its probable earliest white settler, though the first settler within the limits of the town of Troy was a Thomas Wilson, from whom Wilson Creek received its present name. . Mr. Wilson was a miner employed in the old 'shot tower mines' below Helena. With a miner's desire of locating new fields, Mr. Wilson did some prospecting on the north side of the Wisconsin river as early as 1838, and during 1840 moved his little family across the river and built a cabin in the Troy hills. He was closely fol- lowed by J. A. Sprecher and later by a party from eastern Ohio, con- sisting of J. W. Harris, J. Keifer and others, and a school was estab- lished about 1848.
"Some very interesting stories could be told relating to the early settlement of this town. It certainly contained some interesting charac- ters at an early date.
BEAR CREEK
"Of the town of Bear Creek much might also be written. Getting its name from the little river which wends its way in and out among its rugged hills and picturesque scenery, it was appropriately named, the creek being named by the Indians and so called by them when the first white settlers, the McCloud brothers, William and Robert, located upon its banks about 1840-44; and herein lies a tale. These two men, adven- turous by nature, and trappers by profession, originally located in what is even now called Hood's valley. For reasons known only to these two men and the Indians a feud sprang up between the white blood and the red. In a skirmish with a party of Indians (probably Sacs or Foxes) a member or members of the McCloud family lost their lives, and from that day the MeCloud brothers became veritable Indian-hunters. Owing to their superior number the Indians were enabled to make it necessary for these two pioneers to remove their families westward and nearer to the protection of the guns of old Fort Crawford in 1850. The next settlers were the Phetteplace family, and later the families of J. Ban- croft, J. Seaman and others.
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