"An Interesting Early History of Decatur County"by Mrs. O.N. Kellogg |
| Chapter Twelve ANOTHER INN BUILT-FIRST FRAME BUILDING-THE INDIANS- THE SETTLERS-ORCHARD NURSERY-BAPTIST CHURCH SOUTH |
| The “Inn” kept by Mr. Enos Davis was well patronized and in the
season of California travel at least, they were kept from getting
lonesome. In the year following they moved out a mile east and fenced
and improved a beautiful piece of prairie which has been beautified in
the lapse of years as the residence of Mrs. Lucretia and her son, G. L.
Arnold. In the Spring of 1854 Mr. Enos Davis sold his fine quarter
section farm east of Garden Grove and moved to Long Creek where he made
a home which was noted far and near as a pleasant and restful place for
the tired traveler, and there the troubled and heartsick friend found a
refuge for a while in the time of “the war.” Those, I presume, were
their happiest days. Their daughter, Mariane, buoyant with life and agile as a deer, would spring upon her gallant bay and canter away o'er hill and glen, making a beautiful picture to gladden the hearts of the neighbors who soon following in their wake-notably Amas J. Davis, and the Judd family. These families made remarkable good, substantial improvements as did also the Curry's in their neighborhood and as they are still residents of Decatur County, I will not attempt to pursue their history but leave it to the vigorous and graceful pen of my friend, Mrs. Mary A. Davis, to supply the many interesting incidents which I have failed to enumerate. In 1851 Nelson Wescott built a frame store of whipsawed lumber and soon after his goods were moved into it (he having bought out my husband's stock,) he put up an addition into which he moved his family. The same year John Avis, a blacksmith from St. Louis, built a dwelling house of the same kind of lumber. This house has for several years been the property of A. C. Shane. In making a residence of it to suit his taste, he had metamorphosed it somewhat, but it still retains its individuality upon its original foundations, and is distinguished as being the first frame house in the county. The Winter of '50-'51, there were three hundred Indians camped within a mile and a half of Mr. Patterson's claim cabin. There were not very troublesome, but it is not pleasant to have them for neighbors unless whiskey can be kept from them, but this they will have if they can get it. I once visited their camp in company with some others when they had whiskey. The screams of the poor inebriated wretches (not of pain, but savage, demonical) caused me some fright until it was explained to me that there was not the slightest danger after they had arrived at that stage of intoxication. They set about a drunken spree with as much premeditation as they would start on the war path. A certain number are detailed to stand guard over the ammunition and knives. After they begin to drink they soon become perfectly furious. All the beasts is aroused within them. Then they are dangerous. But drinking on and on they become stupefied in a manner, giving untolerance to their fiendish delight in unearthly yells and whoops. The squaws and papooses had to look out for themselves the best they can. One thing helps them-they have good stomachs. A lady told me that she went to their sugar camp with her husband to get some warm sugar to eat and, while it was boiling, a squaw plunged a prairie hen into it to scald preparatory to picking. Instead of eating warm sugar for dinner she lost her breakfast without the aid of ipecac. There was very little sickness in the county and some who had been confirmed invalids before coming here, became strong and hearty. Mrs. Patterson was one upon whom the change produced this effect. She had been in bad health for a long time and finally developed a tendency to dropsy, which physicians pronounced serious. The first season after coming here she had a slight attack and that was the last. This is not an ague county by any means, but she found that might be superinduced even here. They heard one day that there was a letter for them in the Post Office at Garden Grove (twelve miles distance) and she wished much to have it. She said to her husband, who was engaged in cutting up his corn, “If you will go and get the letter, I'll cut corn while you are gone.” Accordingly, he went. Then she said, “We do need a better cabin so badly, if you will put up one Brother Briggs come around again to preach, I will keep right on, and I know I can cut up the balance of the corn.” This was also agreed to, though with some hesitation. One day his misgivings on the subject led him to the filed, and he found her very willing to quit the job. She had a very high fever, and continued to have regular shakes of ague every day for five or six weeks. Allen Scott set out an orchard in 1843 of apple trees brought seventy or eighty miles, but most of the settlers in the south part of the county were from some cause best known to themselves quite unaccustomed to the use of cultivated fruits. A lady who had brought with her some dried cherries gave them to a neighbor. Another neighbor was anxious to see them, said she had never seen a cherry tree or a specimen of the fruit in his life. Mrs. Patterson brought two apple trees and two plum trees, also two grape vines and seventeen currant sprouts-in the line of shrubbery, the snowball, flowering almond, lilac and peony. This was the largest variety of cultivated fruits and flowers in the county at that time, 1850, within a hundred miles. In the Spring of '51 my husband brought a nursery from Davenport, consisting of different varieties of apples, pears, cherries, currants and gooseberries-also strawberries-of ornamental trees and shrubs, the mountain ash, arbor-vitae, silver leaf maple, ailanthus, flowering locust and various other shrubs and bulbs. After selling his farm to Mr. Dawes, he added materially to his stock and removed a mile east. At that time there was but on nursery within forty miles which was at Clark's mill southeast, in Appanoose county. North, south, and west there was not one within a hundred miles. Dr. Thompson came to this county in 1851 bringing his young wife, and occupied temporarily Mr. Patterson's claim cabin. The last day of their journey before reaching this friendly shelter was extremely cold and the young couple found that warm hearts and high hopes were in requisition before its labors and adventures ended. The lady, muffled in feather bed and quilts, managed to keep from freezing and her husband walked to keep warm but the last five miles, the snow having obliterated the trail entirely, he steered his course by the stars and what few landmarks he could recollect, in a country in which he was almost an entire stranger, never for a moment revealing by word or look the anxiety he felt, lest missing their way they should perish of cold. The cabin, however, was reached in safety late in the evening. It was but twelve feet square with the eaves on a few feet from the ground and the door very low. There was a rude fireplace in it and the first thing done was to light a fire. The lady then sprang from the wagon and essayed to run into the house when—whack!, the door took her in the forehead and knocked her down. Recovering herself, she set about putting things to rights and after all was managed satisfactorily, the bedstead, a tolerably high one, put up and the bed made, she retired to rest. And now, as if often the case in this queer world, the real danger and trouble over, the imagination steps in. “What shall I do?” she exclaims. “I cannot breathe—I shall die.” The doctor thought him to put out the fire so that she could not see the roof so close to her face and almost immediately the stifling sensation was gone. They had been housekeeping but a few weeks when seven men of their acquaintance came to spy out the land and, of course, they entertained them in the best manner they were able. When night came and bedtime, they all betook themselves to the contemplation of the heavenly bodies, while she “made down” a bed and retired herself, after which they would file in one at a time, and park themselves away for the night. Their stock of provisions began to get low in consequence of having had such a run of company, and its replenishing required an absence of several days from home. The first day Mrs. Thompson, being all alone, though she would air her best dresses that had been packed all this time in trunks under the bed. She had just finished spreading them around the room when, looking up at the window (the door was made of clapboards crosswise, and the top one left off made the window) she saw the ugly face of an enormous Indian. He walked in and handed her a paper to read, which set forth that fact that he was a good Indian and worthy the aid he required for himself and tribe who were suffering for want of provisions. She had nothing to spare, but fearing that he would not believe it, and would offer her some indignity, she looked vacantly at the paper awhile, then handed it back to him. “Can't white squaw read?” “No.” “White squaw get man?” “Yes.” “Where man?” Policy more than veracity dictated her reply. He manifested quite a fondness for her and told her how many “sleeps” off he had seen her before, holding up a finger for each sleep, or days travel between this and her former home, also designating the very dress he saw her in then. She then remembered having worn the blue merino which he pointed out, on a day when six hundred and fifty Indians passed her father's house, going from one reservation to another. Afraid to send him off, she gave him his dinner she had cooked for herself and scarcely tasted and then persuaded him to go with her to Mr. Patterson's. Jonathan Creek derives hits name from the man who first settled there (his surname I think was Stanley), a bachelor of about forty, his tall gaunt figure looms up before my memory. Standing before the great log fire, in the old Mormon Church, he demonstrated by the use of his coat tail for a picket handkerchief that some things may be done as well as others. He formed a nucleus around which in the progress of years, a wealthy and influential settlement has grown. It has for several years been known by the more euphonious name of Franklin, and the cars halt there as they make their daily trips from Chariton to Leon and back. Before the State Line was definitely located there was a Baptist church organized as early as '47 or'48, Rev. I. M. Lee and Ira Blakely organizing committee. The members were Reuben Hatfield and wife, Anthony Vanderpool, Old Alfred Stanley and wife, John Price's wife and John Gibson's wife. There was also a class of six organized by the M. E. Church, south, of which Mrs. Stanley, Eliza Stanley, Mrs. Moad, Mrs. Vichey and two others were members. |
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