THE Township of Granville was so named by Ralph Ware, after the town from which he came in Massachusetts. It is situated in the north-east corner of Putnam County, and is bounded on the north by the Illinois River, on the east by La Salle County, on the south by Magnolia and on the west by Hennepin Township. It contains forty-four sections or square miles of surface. Along its northern boundary are the bluffs of the Illinois River, while wooded points extend into the prairies along either side of such streams as flow toward the river. With the exception of the wooded lands referred to, and the "bottom" lands adjoining the water-courses, the surface of the country is rich and level prairie, covered with fertile, well cultivated farms.
The first settlers in Granville Township were the brothers James and
George B. Willis, who came in 1827; Stephen D. Willis, who afterward (in
1853) went to Oregon; and John Robinson, a celebrated hunter, in 1828;
George Ish and his son Bazdale, a youth of fourteen years, James D. Ross,
Roswell Blanchard, Hugh Warnock, __ Creswell and Leonard Ross in 1829. In
1830 came __ Burr, Daniel Jones, __ Thomas, __ Williams, __ Daniels, __
Hendricks and John D. Blake came in 1831. Henry Schooler and James Vintiner
arrived in the settlement in 1832. In 1833 the population was increased by
the arrival of Thomas Ware, James Mills, __ Shepard, Robert, John and
Alexander Moore, Mrs. Mary Mills, Mrs. Ellen Lundy, Mrs. James Harper,
Albert Harper and Samuel Brown. In 1834, Daniel and J. F. Shepard, Anthony
Smith, A. D. Hayslip and William Sherman came and settled. In 1835, J. W.
Hopkins, George B. Hopkins, Luther D. Gunn, Alanson Whitaker and August
Brenneman came; and in 1836, Isaac Sprague, Amos Dewey and __ Benshauer.
Some of the old settlers of the Township whose names are not given
above, who either died or moved away, are James G. Lawton, Joseph, James and
Simeon Warnock, who came in 1829 or 30, and subsequently went to Iowa; John
Burrows in 1829, dead; Isaac Archer in 1830, dead; Thomas Wafer in 1830,
went to Texas and is dead.
The first interment made in the cemetery
at Granville was the body of Levi Shepard, in January, 1837.
In
1838, Luther D. Gunn settled two and a half miles from Granville; Hugh
Warnock lived at Union Grove in 1833, and James Warnock in the vicinity.
The village was surveyed and laid off April 7, 1836. Its first settler
was a man named Creswell, who built a cabin there in 1832-3. The second
house, a frame structure, was erected by Thomas Ware, in 1834. In April,
1836, an addition was made to the village by Thos. Ware, James Parr, William
Smith, Clarissa Ware, Archer and Margaret Hayslip. It occupies a commanding
site upon the prairie, affording a fine view of the surrounding country,
approached in all directions by good roads. Few localities present scenes of
such varied sylvan beauty. The farms are highly cultivated, the houses are
elegant, the roads are bordered with hedges, and a profusion of shade and
fruit trees beautify the landscape and add to its attractiveness. The
fathers of the settlement "built for all time," and laid its foundations
broad and deep in the eternal principles of truth and rectitude. Early
attention was given to schools, and the morals of the country were not
overlooked. It is to the credit of the citizens that no saloon has ever been
licensed in the town, and whatever drunkenness there may have been was
imported, and not "to the manor born."
In early times Granville was
a bustling, go-ahead place, with a promising future. Its merchants were
enterprising, and carried large stocks of goods. Its public school was known
and noted all over Central Illinois, and young men came from long distances
to avail themselves of its advantages. Its ministers of the Gospel were
eloquent; society was refined and courteous; newspapers and books circulated
freely, and on all questions of public interest the people were well
informed and voted intelligently.
Among the earliest merchants were
the Laughlin Brothers, who were better farmers than merchants, and allowed
their sympathies to get away with their judgment. They sold goods on time,
and soon had to abandon the business. They commenced, too, at an ill chosen
time, amidst the general crash of 1837.
Of late years the town has
measurably declined. Peru on one side and Hennepin on the other have drawn
upon its resources, and as they grew and increased Granville seemed to
decay.
In the vicinity of Granville and Union Grove the blessings of Christianity were taught by missionaries at an early day. Every three weeks in the fall of 1829, Rev. William Royal, a Methodist preacher, gathered his little flock at the house of George Ish, and also about the same time, or perhaps a few months later, performed the same pious duty for the settlers about Union Grove and the neighborhood where Florid was afterward mapped as a town site. Among the pioneer ministers in the same faith were Rev. Mr. Parker and Rev. Edward Haile, the latter being described as an incorrigible “old bach" of sixty-two years, and almost a woman hater, so marked was his aversion to or terror of the sex.
Elder Thomas Powell was the first Baptist minister who ever preached in
Granville. He came there in 1836, and preached to a few people gathered at
the house of Mr. Shepard. A few weeks afterward he returned and preached
again, his audience including all who could get into the building a small
unfurnished frame store erected by James Laughlin. The congregation was
composed of Presbyterians, "Seceders," Congregationalists and Baptists.
The people generally were so anxious to have regular religious exercises
that they invited Elder Powell to divide his time between them and his other
appointments. He had been sent as a Missionary of the Baptist Home Mission
Society, to Putnam County. His first stopping place was at John Robinson's,
between Granville and Hennepin. The Elder, when he visited Granville on the
occasions referred to, was a resident of Vermilionville, and his duties
there prevented him from accepting the proposal of the people of the former
place. His appointments were at Hennepin, Clear Creek, Payne's Point,
Magnolia, five miles east of Sandy Creek, and on the Vermilion River, where
Streator now stands. There were then thirteen Baptists in Hennepin and
Granville, whom he organized into the Baptist Church Society of Granville,
which organization still exists and has a place of worship. It has furnished
four young men to the ministry, one of whom, Samuel Whitaker, finished his
course in the Asiatic department of Foreign Missions in Burmah, and died
there; another, E. O. Whitaker, died while a Chaplain in the late war; the
third, Charles Button, is now pastor of a church in Wisconsin, and the
fourth, Robinson, established a church at the mouth of Columbia River,
Oregon, which was said to be the first Protestant church on the Pacific
coast.
''The Baptist Church of Hennepin and Granville" was organized
April 15, 1837, by Thomas Powell, Daniel Shepard, Alanson Whitaker, Joseph
M. Fairfield, Nancy Winters, Elizabeth Winters, Lydia Ann Winters, Cynthia
Ann Winters, Ruth Ann Gould, Lucy Ann Simpson, Delia Perkins and Ruth
Whitaker, who met at Hennepin for that purpose. Daniel Shepard was chosen
Moderator, and J. M. Fairfield, Clerk.
At a meeting held by the
members of this church in July, 1843, the slavery question having became an
exciting topic all over the Union, the following resolution was adopted:
Resolved, That slavery is a sin against God and an outrage on human
rights, and that we as a Baptist Church cannot conscientiously admit a
slaveholder to our pulpit or communion table.
At a meeting held
December 3, 1843, it was resolved to build a church at Granville, and W. A.
Pennell, J. W. Eames and Harrison Rice were appointed a committee to take
the matter in charge, measures also being taken to incorporate the Society
according to law.
A frame structure, thirty-six by forty-six feet,
was promptly built, and a bell weighing 1260 pounds was soon after procured
and placed in the belfry of the church. This is said to be the first church
bell put up anywhere in Putnam County. The church building cost about
$2,000, and is a very respectable and handsome structure.
The Presbyterian Church of Granville was organized April 27, 1839. On
that day George W. Elliott, of Lowell, James H. Dickey, of Union Grove, and
Mr. Spaulding, of Peoria, who had previously been appointed by the Peoria
Presbytery for the purpose, met at a house in Granville. With them were
associated James Mears, Polly Mears, Ralph Mears, Lucinda A. Ware, John
Pool, Thomas Ware, Nancy L. Ware, James G. Laughlin, Ruth Laughlin, Asenath
Nash, Hannah Ware, Thomas Wafer, Elizabeth Wafer, Harriet N. Wafer, James H.
Wafer, John Short, Eleanor Short, Cyrus H. Short, Prior M. Short, William H.
Short, James Hale, Marena Hale, J. W. Laughlin, Alexander M. Laughlin,
Philena Kidder, George Perry and David L. Child. These latter named persons
were admitted to take part in the organization by reason of their being
members in good standing in the Church, each of them producing letters of
dismissal, or other satisfactory evidence to that effect. After the usual
preliminary exercises were had the meeting organized. James Mears and Ralph
Ware were chosen as Ruling Elders, whose terms of office were to continue
until September 3, next ensuing, and John Pool and Thomas Ware were chosen
to the same office, their terms to begin on the expiration of the time for
which their predecessors were chosen.
The Church then extended an
invitation to Mr. H. G. Pendleton, a licentiate from Lane Theological
Seminary, to become their preacher, which invitation was accepted, and he at
once entered upon the discharge of his duties. The first sacramental
communion of the members of the new Church was held on the last Sabbath of
May, 1839, and on the first day of August following, the Church and
community were called upon to mourn the death of James Mears, one of the
first chosen Ruling Elders of the infant Church.
Almost from its
inception this Church seems to have been torn by dissensions, and as a
matter of course it could not become prosperous, either in a temporal or
spiritual view. In August, 1842, Horace Morse, with quite a number of other
members who sided with him in one of these unhappy quarrels, preferred a
request to the session for letters of dismissal to a church at Hennepin. A
motion was made to lay the petition on the table, otherwise to refuse the
request. This brought on a most stormy and acrimonious debate, and after
long discussion and the exhibition of much hard feeling, the request was
granted and the letters issued.
It seems that the slavery question,
pro and con, which was agitating the country from Maine to Texas in 1844,
crept into the Granville Church and proved a fire-brand there. Some of the
members were strong Abolitionists, while others were either indifferent to
the question or openly took part on the other side. It was probably on that
account that Rev. Mr. Pendleton, feeling that his day of usefulness had
ceased there, was prompted to sever his connection with the Church. About
the time that he did so those who were opposed to him procured a declaration
to be entered on the Church minutes severely reflecting upon him for
entertaining pro-slavery views. In August, 1844, at a church meeting, the
following resolution was adopted:
Resolved, That Brother H. C.
Pendleton having served four years as stated supply, and at the end of the
fourth year it was decided by a large majority that he was not satisfactory
to the Church on account of his pro-slavery sentiments, a portion of the
Church deeply sympathize with him, as he had proved himself a laborious and
faithful minister.
Mr. Pendleton having severed his connection with
the Church, on September 7, 1844, Rev. J. A. Hallock was called to its
pastorate as a "supply," who was followed April 10, 1845, by Rev. R. C.
Clark, also as a supply.
In 1845 the congregation built a neat and
substantial church edifice, which has been in constant use for religious
purposes ever since.
Dating back for several years this Society was
in a bad way. Rent by internal dissensions, much bitterness existed among
the members. Some had gone off and connected themselves with other churches,
others abandoned attendance upon any church services whatever, and those who
remained were not happy.
In November, 1847, one of the persons who
had withdrawn from the Church in 1842 applied for re-admission. This created
a storm from the effects of which the Church never recovered, and the work
of disintegration was complete. A Congregational Church having in the
meantime been established at Granville, a proposition was made to unite the
two organizations, and in October, 1850, that arrangement was perfected.
The labors of the Rev. Mr. Pendleton deserve special notice. His name is
closely identified with those of the Presbyterian Churches of Granville,
Lacon, Henry, and Providence, Bureau County; with the Henry Female Seminary,
and with the cause of Christianity, education and human progress generally
in this section of Illinois.
In April, 1839, the New School
Presbyterian Church at Granville was organized, and Mr. Pendleton, who was
then a licentiate from Lane Theological Seminary, was invited to come and
preach for them, which invitation he accepted. In January, 1840, having
completed his course of studies at the Seminary and passed a rigid and most
satisfactory examintion, he was ordained a minister by Peoria Presbytery,
and for four years after that time was the beloved pastor of the Granville
Church. At the beginning of his labors there the membership was
twenty-seven, and when he retired from its pastorate there were the names of
sixty-seven active members on the rolls. That church organization now
constitutes substantially the present Congregational Church of Granville.
In August, 1844, Mr. Pendleton was invited by the Presbyterian
Church of Lacon to become their pastor, which position he accepted, and
remained there for one year, during which time twenty persons were added to
the church. There are many persons in Lacon at the present time who have
very pleasant recollections of the days when this gentleman ministered to
their spiritual needs.
In March, 1845, the New School Presbyterian
Church at Henry, with twelve members, was organized under the auspices of
Mr. Pendleton, which organization is the basis of the present Congregational
Church there. While he was acting as pastor of the Henry church, he had
pastoral charge of the Presbyterian Church at Providence, Bureau County,
over which charges he presided for four years. But his labors were not
confined alone to these. He had eight appointments in as many different
parts of the country, which he regularly filled, and it was while making
these itinerant journeys he became impressed with the great lack and
increasing need of qualified school teachers. This state of things led Mr.
Pendleton to consider the possibility and probability of founding an
institution to be devoted to education and preparation of suitable persons
as teachers. In his travels he saw that because of the previous absence of
almost everything that looked like schools, the masses of the people were
very deficient in even the most essential educational accomplishments, and
that the children who were growing up were equally unfortunate. It is true
that in most of the villages and neighborhoods some attempts were made at
school teaching, but these were but, spasmodic efforts made by incompetent
or untrained persons without system or correct ideas as to what studies
should be pursued, usually started or carried on by those who had nothing
else to do or could find no other employment whereby they might make their
living, and in log huts which were uncomfortable, unhealthy, and not at all
adapted to the purposes for which they were used.
The more he saw of
the want of better arrangements for educating the rising generation, the
more impressed he became with the necessity of putting forth his strongest
efforts to carry out the idea which had possessed him, and the Henry Female
Seminary was the result. After much scheming, planning and consultations
with friends, he succeeded in raising money sufficient to erect a building
forty-four feet square and three stories high, with an ell sixteen by forty
feet, two stories in height. The Seminary building was well adapted to the
purposes for which it was built, and was a monument to the good man who had
labored so long and patiently for its erection.
On November 12,
1839, the doors of the Seminary were thrown open for the admission of
pupils, and from that time until the winter of 1855 the school was well
sustained by eager young people, anxious to prepare themselves for the
profession of teachers; the fall and winter sessions filling the building to
its utmost capacity. February 15, 1855, the building was unfortunately
destroyed by fire. The following summer the ell of a new building,
twenty-four by thirty-two feet, three stories high, was put up on the old
site, and during the spring and summer of 1856 the main building, forty by
eighty feet, was also erected; all at a cost of $15,000.
November
25, 1856, the doors of the new Seminary were opened, and the prosperity
attending the old blessed the new. The Legislature granted this Seminary a
charter at its session of 1856-57.
The teachers employed in the
Seminary were drawn mainly from that most excellent seat of learning, the
Holyoke (Mass.) Female Seminary, from whence has been supplied to all parts
of the Union large numbers of most thoroughly competent and able
instructors. The school was well sustained until the financial crash of 1857
prostrated business throughout the whole country. Another influence that
operated against the prosperity of the institution was the new system of
public graded and high schools, which were just then coming into operation
in the State, and took away much of its patronage.
About the
beginning of the late war Mr. Pendleton contracted a sale of the Seminary
building to the Methodist Central Conference, and surrendered the premises
to their control, with the exception of the rooms occupied by his family.
The Methodists held the building for about three years, when, through the
inefficiency of their agent, they failed to fulfill their contract, arid the
property reverted to its former owner. After this, having gone through many
changes and vicissitudes during which the prosperity of the enterprise was
becoming continually lessened, in the autumn of 1869 it was sold to the
German Reformed Church, which closed the connection of Mr. Pendleton with
the institution.
To Rev. Naham Gould, the First Presbyterian minister who settled in
Granville Township, the village of Granville and the Academy which was one
of its chief ornaments are indebted for their birth and existence. His idea
was to establish an academy, commencing on a very moderate scale,
commensurate with the necessities of the community and its financial
ability. From such modest beginning he hoped that his pet enterprise would
rapidly assume more pretentious proportions, which would become so enlarged
as to convert his academy into a college, with an organized faculty and the
usual collegiate paraphernalia.
Having secured the promise of needed
assistance from his neighbors, he, in 1835, set about the erection of a
suitable building for his school, and soon he had a strong, well built and
convenient house, 24x36 feet square, two stories high, finished and ready
for occupancy. The neighbors had turned out with skillful hands and willing
hearts, gone to the forest and hewed out the necessary parts, the quality of
which was so good and the workmanship so perfect that the frame of that old
academy is standing to-day, after having withstood the storms and blasts of
many winters, and the racking and jostling of having been moved, as perfect,
sound and useful as though it had just been delivered from the workman's
hand.
The association that had the matter of the erection of the
building and the establishment of the Academy in charge, procured a charter
from the Legislature in 1837. This having been obtained, they turned the
establishment over to the Township Trustees for the purpose of opening a
public school, and the doors were thrown open for that purpose in December
following.
This institution, from a very small beginning, gradually
acquired considerable fame, not only in its own locality, but all over the
West. The men who took a leading part in the enterprise were the old
settlers of the Township, and with no endowment save their own energy and
public spirit, had the satisfaction of seeing their school grow into notice
and become a seat of learning from which afterward many prominent and
scholarly men and women were to graduate.
The first teacher who had
charge of the new school was Otis Fisher, several years afterward ordained
as a Baptist minister. After him was Miss Lovejoy, a sister of Owen Lovejoy,
a man whose name lives in the history of his county; and later, Miss Jane
Hawks.
Among those whose names have attained prominence in the State
who were educated at the Granville Academy, are Harvey Jones, Mr. Jackson,
Henry Hunter, of Chicago; Judge John Burns, of the Circuit Court of
Illinois, of Lacon; Benjamin F. Lundy and his twin sister; Rev. Charles
Bolton, of Fond du Lac; Rev. Daniel Whitaker and Rev. Thomas Allen,
missionaries to Burmah; Hon. P. A. Armstrong, of Morris; Ex-Governor of
Illinois John L. Beveridge and his brother, and many others.
A new
building, much larger, more commodious, and possessing many modern
improvements, has taken the place of the old one. Its dimensions are 40 by
75 feet; built at a cost of $8,000.
The Rev. Mr. Gale, founder of
the prosperous city of Galesburg, then unborn and unknown, came to Granville
on a prospecting tour, seeking a place which would be desirable as a site
for a town and college, which he was designing to establish. He soon
discovered in the prairies, timber, soil, climate and surroundings of
Granville all the requisites which nature could furnish for the purpose, and
concluded to invest his capital and apply his energy and business capacity
here, in the development of his scheme. He broached the subject to Mr.
Gould, who at once claimed a prior determination to the same end and
purpose. Mr. Gale very courteously said: "There is room in Illinois for two
such places and colleges as we design to create; let us separate. I will
seek a location elsewhere." He did so, and Galesburg was the result.
The first school taught in Granville Township was in the fall of 1834,
Miss Burr being the teacher. It was in a small log cabin, about twelve feet
square, which Mr. Wafer had put up for a smoke-house, near his residence on
the edge of the timber, about one mile north-west of the village of
Granville. The school was conducted on the pay system, and was patronized by
George Ish, Thomas Ware, Mrs. Laughlin and Mr. Mears.
In the fall of
1835, James Laughlin and one or two others built a log school house in the
timber, and afterward attempted to move it to the center of the district,
but did not succeed in doing so. Miss Burr taught in this building in the
fall and winter of 1835. The same winter a public school was opened by Miss
Abbie Hawks in the Academy building, before it was entirely finished. Since
then the Township has so greatly increased in population that eleven schools
are now taught within its limits, in as many different school districts.
Of James Willis this story is told: In the spring of 1830 he returned to
his former home to settle up some business, and on his way stopped at a
wayside house of entertainment, where he made the acquaintance of a
traveler, looking up, as he said, a location. As usual in those days the men
made known their respective business, and Mr. Willis stated that he had been
quite successful in closing up his affairs, and was conveying home the
results. He had some ready money, and proposed to improve his farm, and was
on the lookout for a suitable man to engage. The stranger listened with
interest, and replied that he thought of visiting the Illinois country, and
if Mr. Willis would give him a job he would change his route and accompany
him home. A bargain was easily made, and the next morning the two started
out, Willis riding his horse and the stranger on foot. In this way they
passed the settlements, and entered on an extensive prairie, Willis
occasionally giving his companion a ride and walking himself. As they
journeyed along a deer sprung up, and the stranger asked to shoot it. His
request was granted, but though the chance was good, the fellow didn't fire,
saying he "couldn't get the hang of the tarnal thing." Not long after they
again changed, Mr. Willis having resumed his gun. The money was carried, be
it known, in a pair of saddlebags behind the saddle. After mounting the
stranger rode off leisurely but in a gradually increasing gait until a
sufficient distance was obtained, when he raised his hat, bade Willis good
bye, and rode off at a gallop. Willis brought his fusee to his face and
ordered him to stop, but the powder had in the meantime been removed from
the pan, and it would not go off. He turned off the regular road and was
soon lost to view. Willis meanwhile pushed on hard as he could. A dozen
miles or so ahead was a settlement where he was known, and a few hours
sufficed to gather a dozen trusty men on fleet horses, and after a sharp
chase of thirty miles the thief was overhauled, and money and horse
recovered. The proper way would have been to have strung the fellow up, but
Judge Lynch was not presiding then, and he was turned over to the Sheriff of
the county where the capture was effected, and Willis proceeded homeward.
There was no jail in the county and the Sheriff took his prisoner
home, placed shackles on his limbs, and kept him in his own house. The
fellow took the arrest quite coolly, and appeared to be not at all
dissatisfied with the arrangement. It was the beginning of a hard winter,
and the prospect of comfortable quarters was not at all displeasing. He read
and sang, played the fiddle, and made himself both useful and agreeable.
Finding his landlord's household wanted shoeing, he made it known that he
understood the whole art and mystery of cobbling, and said if his
entertainer would furnish the leather he would do the work. It was done, and
the good natured tramp made shoes for the whole family, while chained by one
leg to his work-bench. One stormy day when the Sheriff was absent and none
about the premises but women, the cattle broke into a field where corn was
standing in shocks, and the accommodating prisoner unlocked his shackles
with an awl, drove them out, and then replaced the irons on his legs as
usual. Toward spring he grew uneasy, and as court was about to convene he
told his entertainers his health was failing, and was afraid they’d have to
part, so removing his shackles in their absence, he left.
Among the mysterious tragedies occasionally enacted where human life is
taken without apparent cause, and no clue left by which to apprehend and
punish the perpetrators, the killing of Thomas Hopkins and his young and
beautiful wife, in the town of Granville, on July 6, 1867, stands out as a
marked and remarkable occurrence.
Thomas Hopkins, aged twenty-five,
and his wife, aged about fifteen or sixteen years, were the victims of as
terrible a fate as fiends in human form could devise. To obtain any certain
clue by which to track the murderers baffled the skill of the sharpest
detectives, and to this day the perpetrators have never been brought to
justice.
Hopkins was the son of a farmer living near LaSalle, but
had abandoned the honorable occupation in which he had been reared,
preferring an idle life among vagabonds rather than the companionship of
reputable companions. He obtained a flat boat, fitted it up as a dwelling,
and floated along the river, up and down between Hennepin and Peru or
LaSalle, loading his craft with driftwood, and supplying himself with other
conveniently reached property, with little regard, it is said, to any rights
of ownership save that of possession. In one of his trips he became
acquainted with a girl named Sophia Baker, a rather pretty young lady,
inclined to idleness, whose parents lived not far from the river in the town
of Granville. She was attending school at the time, and quit it one day to
marry Hopkins. They had been married but a few weeks, and little was known
of their conjugal life. At the time of the murder their floating home was
moored in the river a few miles below Peru, near the Granville side, and
within the jurisdiction of Putnam County.
A man named Sherman, the
last person known to have seen this illfated couple alive, stated that he
visited them in the evening of the night of the murder to deliver a load of
wood and a sack of flour, which latter Mrs. Hopkins took from his hands. He
left them apparently cheerful and happy, with everything about the boat
seemingly in good order, and the table spread for supper. Returning next
morning, he found Hopkins' body in the water at the side of the boat, in a
standing position, the head beneath the surface. Near by a sand-bag club was
found, but no marks of violence were discernible upon the corpse. The table
was spread as he had seen it the evening before; there was no evidence of
confusion, scuffling, or acts of violence such as the forcible removal of
one or two persons from so small a room would have caused. There was no torn
clothing, no blood stains, no marks of violence, nor the slightest
indication of any other persons than the victims having been present.
Nothing had been disturbed; their personal effects, and such articles of
merchandise as Hopkins had supplied himself with in his trading expeditions
were all there, and one hundred and fifty dollars were found in the dead
man's pockets. Mrs. Hopkins was strangely absent. Upon their accustomed hook
were found her bonnet and shawl, and it was evident she had either made a
singularly hurried flight or been very cunningly abducted.
The news
of the murder soon attracted the people of the neighborhood, and prompt
efforts were made to sift the mystery. Some one had heard the voice of a
woman screaming during the night, the sound apparently coming from a short
distance down the river, but as boats often passed with drunken men and
abandoned women on board, no heed was paid to the circumstance. A watchman
at the mills at Hennepin, "when he came to think of it," was certain he
heard a woman's voice about daylight of the fatal morning, calling piteously
for help, and simultaneously a boat was seen by him floating down stream
near the opposite bank. The country turned out and searched everywhere, and
at length, three days afterward, the body of the poor woman was found on a
bar below Hennepin, about nine miles from where her husband's boat was
moored. Beside a few slight scratches on her neck, which might have been
caused by accident, no marks of violence nor evidence of ill-usage were
discovered upon her person.
Sometimes by a persistent and long-continued defiance of public opinion a
bold villain exasperates a community past endurance, until scorning forms of
law, and the law's delay, they sweep all aside, and taking the culprit in
hand exact justice, deep, terrible and lasting. The instinct of
self-preservation may justify such a resort, but nothing else, though there
are seemingly times when the enormity of the crime, the danger of escape, or
the degraded character of the criminal, make the invokers of Judge Lynch at
least pardonable.
One of the early settlers of Granville Township
was John C. Ramsay, who lived on the bottoms of the Illinois River north of
the village. He is remembered as a good neighbor, but not one with whom a
person cared to be too intimate, and outwardly sustained a character for
morality, sobriety and industry. He was circumspect in language and
deportment, was a member of the Church, an attendant upon its meetings and a
Superintendent of the Sabbath School. His prayers were long; he dwelt much
on youthful follies and had little charity for those who went astray. To
some he seemed a regular pillar of light and a shining example for sinners
to pattern after, yet there were those who believed all this was a mask to
cover deep purposes, and beneath a saintly exterior he concealed the
wickedness of a devil incarnate.
Reports had gone abroad of strange
goings on about his secluded home. Property mysteriously missing had been
tracked towards his saintly domicile, and rumors were afloat that his family
relations were not strictly angelic. After a time his wife died suddenly,
and no one could tell how it occurred save that she was found dead in the
smoke-house. Her deeply afflicted spouse related to the jury, with tears in
his eyes, that she went there, locked herself in, and was found dead. As the
smoke-house could only be locked on the outside, the jury could not see how
a dying person could affect it; but any attempt to get him to explain away
this absurdity caused the poor man to relapse into paroxysms of grief that
were simply dreadful. As the jury found no signs of poison, or blows, or
violence, the twelve wise men looked grave and in effect pronounced the
cause of her death unknown.
Affairs went on as before at his
exceedingly pious dwelling, and the people continued to lose property and
wonder why it was thus. Stories again got afloat of a terrible nature, some
perhaps "o'er true" and others highly imaginative. It was said he had
debauched his own daughters, murdered their unnatural offspring, robbed his
neighbors, and though his children were all cognizant of the facts, such was
their fear of him, none dare make it known.
Affairs finally reached
a crisis. There was a rebellion at home, and the ghastly secrets could no
longer be concealed.
On the 16th of April, 1870, Esq. Childs, living
at Granville, was notified by A. J. Carroll, Constable, that Ramsay had been
caught stealing goods, and an excited mob had gone to wreak summary
vengeance upon the perpetrator. Mr. Childs went down to Ramsay's dwelling,
where he found a crowd of men rehearsing his crimes. The old man had gone to
Peru, and his family had determined on his return to effect his arrest. The
Justice questioned the inmates, and Mrs. Patterson with many tears told the
story of her degradation. From a child she had been compelled by threats and
punishments to submit to his lusts, nor did they cease after marriage with
her husband. Her health had been wrecked, her life embittered, her home,
which she dare not leave made a hell of. Then the younger daughter told her
pitiful tale. If possible it was more harrowing than her sisters. She too
had been compelled through fear of her life to submit to his desires, and
when she rebelled had been whipped nearly to death, with dreadful threats
that it would be worse if she dared reveal the awful secret.
As the
law required that two justices should attend the preliminary examination,
Thomas Ware was notified and requested to give his immediate attention, so
that the matter might be disposed of before the fast gathering crowd took it
out of their hands. They were soon ready, and when Ramsay returned the
warrant was read, court convened, and the witnesses for the State were asked
to come forward and be sworn. Up to this time Ramsay had shown an air of
bravado, but when his daughters appeared his courage failed, for he saw the
game was up. His crimes had run their course and reached the inevitable end
when concealment was no longer possible. His victims were his equals now,
and his brutality was no longer feared, his presence no longer inspired
terror. He saw the odds were against him, and, changing tactics, said he
would waive an examination and enter into bonds for his appearance.
His intentions probably were to compel the witnesses to deny in court all
previous assertions, and secondly, if this failed, to forfeit his bail, take
vengeance on those who had thwarted his plans, and leave the country. The
Judges, after consultation, fixed the bail at $5,000.
To this Ramsay
strongly protested, for he foresaw he must go to jail, and his chances for
vengeance and escape would be greatly lessened. In the meantime events
outside were transpiring which excited the fast gathering crowd to frenzy.
The story of his crimes was repeated from mouth to mouth, and as the
stricken, helpless wretches, the victims of his lust and brutality, were
pointed out, deep oaths were registered that found dread fulfillment.
One of the sons told how his father had been stealing the grain, cattle
and hogs of his neighbors, compelling his family to assist when necessary.
For years they had lived in deadly fear, and he added, "if father goes to
the penitentiary for this, one of us will die when he gets out, for he will
kill me or I must him."
It was charged too that Ramsay had purposely
burned his own barn to secure the insurance, and worse than all, he had
murdered their mother, compelling her children, who were unwilling witnesses
of the act, to remain silent.
A warrant for his committal to jail
was made out and handed to the officer. Ramsay, at first so unwilling to go,
was now anxious, for a look at the dark faces about, convinced him his
safety was inside of strong walls where he could not be reached, and
signifying his readiness to go begged Mr. Childs to accompany him. The
latter at first refused, but yielded to the request, and along with the
Constable, the prisoner and Mr. D. Ham got into a buggy and started. It was
now about seven o'clock p. m. The crowd had pretty much all left, a cheerful
circumstance to the prisoner as he viewed it, but one not without serious
apprehension to the officers.
The party drove about a mile at a
brisk trot, on the road to Hennepin, when suddenly about fifty masked men
appeared, and with weapons drawn demanded a halt. Ramsay was taken out, his
hands tied, and he was told if he had any prayers to make now was the time,
for his stay on earth was short.
Evidently he was too dazed to
comprehend the situation, and believed their intention was to extort a
confession and compel him to leave the country. A rope was placed around his
neck, and at the words "hang him" a violent jerk was given that lifted him
from his feet, when it either broke or was cut and let him down. For the
first time he felt that things were serious, but no signs of repentance
came. He still thought to deceive by an assumption of the piety that had
befriended him so long, and raising his hands and eyes in a sanctimonious
manner he prayed with the Savior, "Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do."
This blasphemous appeal was all that was needed to
nerve his executioners to duty. The rope was quickly re-tied, and one end
being thrown over the limb of a tree, fifty strong arms raised the trembling
wretch and left him hanging by the neck until dead.
After the body
had remained a sufficient time some of the actors cut it down, and carried
it home, tumbling it out in the yard, very much as one might a dead hog. It
was duly interred, but a few nights later some enterprising students
resurrected the remains, and they now ornament the rear room of a doctor's
office.
The hanging of Ramsay created intense excitement and the
Governor offered a reward of $1,000 for the arrest of the perpetrators, but
no one so far as known, attempted to earn it. The majority of the people,
while disapproving the method, felt that justice had been done the criminal
and refused to assist in their punishment.
Thus terminated the
career of as sanctimonious a scoundrel "as ever stole the livery of heaven
to serve the devil in," as sleek and unctuous a villain as ever disgraced
the human form.
The tree whereon he was hung was, so long as it
remained standing known as the Ramsay tree, and for years bore this
inscription:
" Here the carcass of Ramsay lies,
Nobody laughs and
nobody cries.
Where he's gone to none can tell,
But all suppose he's
gone to ___."
In 1879 it was mysteriously cut down and even the roots
dug out, leaving riot a vestige remaining. By whom it was done is not known.
Some of his children live in the vicinity and others have gone west. The
girls were well spoken of and led reputable lives.
Prior to 1858 the bottoms of the Illinois River near the County line, in
Granville Township, had been infested by the presence of "Old Joe Smith," as
he was called, though not the famous Mormon Prophet of that name. This
particular member of the multitudinous family of Smith, was a man of
exceedingly vague notions as to the right of property, possession with him
not only being the nine points of the law, but conclusive evidence of
absolute ownership ! In his peculiar view the manner of getting possession
was of little consequence; to possess was to own, with all the term implies.
He was charged with having long been a thief on general principles,
and specifically a thief of everything of a portable nature. He had a
special propensity for cattle and hogs, and what was particularly
aggravating in his conduct was, that, though a butcher who supplied the
people with fresh meat, he never was known to buy any cattle. He stole his
beeves from the farmers, and sold to them again at full prices. He also
stole their hams, shoulders and poultry. The hams and shoulders from
neighboring smoke houses found a tolerably secure place of concealment in
his barn, where, among so many samples from all over the country, individual
property could not easily be selected. His depredations, too, were extended
to neighboring Counties and across the river. He would capture, also, newly
washed shirts, male and female garments, sheets, pillow cases, and stockings
long and short, masculine and feminine ! Farmers missed their plows and
harrows, and though tracked to Smith's all absorbing ranche, no sign of them
could be discovered there !
At length people became so incensed that
they determined to interview Smith and force from him some sort of
explanation of the singular spiriting away of their goods and chattels.
Accordingly a large number of farmers, who had been victims of the aforesaid
Smith, met at the domicile of the culprit and demanded certain goods, among
them two plows and a harrow, and other articles, and no satisfactory
response being made, proceeded to administer to the reticent witness three
separate and distinct horse-whippings, well laid on ! But he would not
confess, and, despairing of such gentle means of obtaining information, a
clothes-line was brought into play, and he was hung up three times, the last
well nigh choking him "for good," when he yielded and told them where some
of the missing property could be found. From one plow he had taken the stock
and had it re-wooded at Peru. Some of the plow irons he had burned so as to
prevent discovery when hot pressed for a safe hiding place; others had been
buried and the ground plowed over them. Some again had been secreted in a
similar manner in the neighboring woods and fields, and what was remarkable
was, all the goods that Smith had hidden were so securely and cunningly
concealed that it is doubtful if any of them could ever have been found by
any one except himself or "pals," unless by the merest accident.
He
had burned up clothing, hams, smoked and dried meat to prevent their
discovery. On his confession and pointing out where the articles were
hidden, a considerable quantity of goods were recovered. He was given a day
or two to get out of the county, a trip which he made with commendable
speed. Several suspected accomplices, taking the hint, left at the same
time, and since then the stealing business has had a long, and, to the
people, most satisfactory rest.
November 22, 1867, Aaron Sherman killed Samuel Dowhower, both residents of Granville, under the following circumstances:
The two named and a Mr. Wedgewood had been to Peru, and on their way home fell into a quarrel, which ended in Sherman being ejected from the wagon. The latter swore revenge, and going to the home of a Mr. Walker, borrowed a gun, with which he hurried to the dwelling of Dowhower. It was night and the family had retired. He rapped at his victim's door, and Mrs. Dowhower arose, lighted a lamp, and opened it. Dowhower had previously her of his quarrel with Sherman, and as the knock was heard, exclaimed, "There he is now!" Dowhower went to the door and was instantly shot dead.
Sherman was tried, convicted and sent to the penitentiary for twenty-five years. He served about five years and was pardoned out by the Governor. It afterward transpired that the principal getter up of these petitions was hired to obtain them and paid liberally for the service; and it is also charged that influential names on the petition were placed there by others then themselves. Sherman went out West, and is said to be now living in Texas.
The following incident, which happened in 1829, will bring to the
recollection of old settlers many similar experiences, doubtless, of which
they were personally cognizant:
In November of that year Jeremiah
Strawn and three others, afterwards residents of Magnolia Township, traveled
from the "Wabash country" westward, heading for Putnam County. They had no
map of the route, and there was practically neither roads nor trail, so that
when they lost sight of the settlements they were as much at sea as if
sailing in the broad Atlantic. Strawn had traveled over a portion of the
route, understood the topography of the country in general, and believed
that by travelling due West they would strike the Illinois River. They were
provided with a pocket compass and a small supply of provisions.
For
twenty miles or more traveling was passable, but here they struck one of
those vast sloughs for which the country is noted, and came to a halt. Far
as the eye could see the country was one vast sheet of water, whose depth
none of them knew. Hoping to "head it off" they traveled northward some
miles without success, and then retraced their steps south, until despairing
of finding a passage, they returned to their resting place of the night
before.
In the morning they took a new direction toward the
south-west, following an old buffalo trail all day, and at night coming upon
a party of Kickapoo Indians destitute of supplies.
The travelers
were without provisions, their horses jaded and worn down, and the grass all
dead. The Indians could speak but little English, but they pointed to a
certain star in the north-west and indicated that a white man lived there,
and with this vague direction the wanderers resumed their journey. One man
was to watch the star and see that their direction did not vary. After some
hours of travel it grew cloudy, and fearing the direction might be lost,
they concluded to encamp. The night was bitterly cold, and to keep from
freezing they beat down the tall grass and ran foot races. In the morning
they took their bearings with the compass and found they had become
completely turned about. They now resumed their journey, plodding wearily
along all day with nothing to eat. Late in the afternoon they were delighted
with the sight of a settler's cabin. The inmates had corn and pork, and the
wayfarers had to pound the former and wait for its cooking before their
hunger was satisfied, but all agreed in pronouncing it the best meal they
ever ate. After a while the owner came in with a fat deer, and insisted upon
their eating again, to which they readily assented. They remained all night,
and the next morning were directed on their route, reaching their
destination without further adventure.
Granville was a popular stopping place on the
underground railroad for colored men and women who were seeking to free
themselves from the galling chains of bondage. The people generally
sympathised with them, and if there were any who were not active in aiding
the fugitives forward, they remained neutral. On one occasion as many as
sixteen negroes were seen in the village at one time, having come in on the
"night accommodation train." They had made their way from St. Louis without
money or molestation.
In 1835 two negro women, who were pursued by
their owners and were likely to be captured, were hidden in the cellar of
James T. Laughlin's house (where S. Harrison now lives), and there remained
a night and a day. The weather was exceedingly stormy and cold, and the
pursuers were kept in a continual dance from one place to another on false
scents and rumors, until they were nearly dead from fatigue and exposure.
The citizens, while pretending to help the confiding slave-catchers, were
deluding them all the time, and the fellows finally gave up their job and
returned home. Of course the poor fugitives were sent in the opposite
direction as fast as possible, until they were safe among the friendly
Canadians.
Harvey B. Leeper was a very active conductor on this
underground road, and a well known citizen of Granville, who devoted much of
his time and means to the cause of freedom.
The massacre of the Hall
and Pettigrew families has been referred to before. They had lived in Bureau
County, not far from Hennepin, and when they were on their way in 1830 to
their proposed new home at Fox River, passing through Granville, they
stopped several weeks at the residence of George Ish, and enjoyed his
hospitality. It was during this visit that William Pettigrew courted and won
the hand and affections of Mrs. Campbell, a young and handsome widow living
in the neighborhood. A wedding day having been appointed, invitations were
sent in to the neighbors to come and assist at the festivities. They came,
and a good, jolly, old-fashioned time they had, and many were the wishes
made for the future welfare and happiness of the newly married pair.
The bride accompanied her husband to their new home, where we may
imagine their lives passed like those of most other settlers in a new
country. But this happiness was not to be of long continuance. About two
years after they had reached their new home the Indian war broke out, and
they were barbarously murdered as related in the story of the Hall family.
The saloons of Peru have been hotbeds of vice, prolific of crimes
whose consequences were severely felt in Granville Township. It is safe to
assert that scarcely an outrage mentioned as occurring here but had its
inception in some quarrel instigated by poor whisky, or the perpetrators
were habitual drinkers whose supplies came from over the river. There being
no saloons in the Township, they must necessarily come from elsewhere, and
in Peru they were mainly obtained. In addition to the long series of crimes
already scored to this cause must be added the Gallaher homicide and the
killing of De Long. This latter occurrence took place about 1844 or later.
De Long and a brother-in-law named Osborne were returning from a
turkey-raffle at Peru, where both had imbibed freely, and was into a quarrel
in which De Long got badly cut, and died a few days after. Osborne was
arrested and placed in jail, but managed to escape and was never seen in the
country again.
In June, 1866, Mt. Pleasant was the scene of a most
dastardly outrage. A sprightly young German girl, whose name it is not
necessary to give, had been for some time employed in the family of a man
named Droll, also a German. She was an unusually bright young woman, and,
besides being a neat housekeeper, had a general business turn, which made
her useful to her employer as an accountant. He was not much of an English
scholar, but had considerable business with his Yankee neighbors, and her
services were indispensable as an interpreter. Mr. Droll had two daughters,
one older and one younger than the subject of this sketch, but they took no
particular interest in their father's business, and neither had the will or
ability to learn it, and left it all to the servant, who managed everything
in her own way. She was the good genius of the household, and the family
felt for her all the regard they could for a sister. Although quite pretty,
she was not infatuated with the young men who sought her company, and
seemingly found more pleasure in attending to business affairs than in their
conversation. On the occasion referred to, at the hour of midnight the Droll
family were awakened by an alarm at their door, which the old man answered.
He found there a man whom he did not recognize, and who told him there was
something wrong at the barn with the horses, and to come and see. Droll went
with him. No sooner had he reached the barn than a handkerchief was forced
into his mouth and he was tied to the manger. The girl, hearing an unusual
noise, came out in her night clothes to see what was the matter, when she
was seized, gagged and put into a wagon, which was driven off to the
prairie. There were seven or eight persons engaged in this infamous
proceeding, but being unable to speak, and in great fear of her life and of
a fate more to be dreaded by a pure woman than death, she could but weep in
silence. About two miles from the village, in a south-westerly direction,
the wagon was stopped; the crowd of ruffians gathered around the terrified
girl, cut off her hair, removed her from the wagon, stripped her of her
scanty garments and deliberately covered her body with tar and feathers.
This infamous performance having been completed, though shocking in
itself, was a relief to the mind of the poor girl, since it assured her her
that only this indignity was in store for her. When these cowardly
scoundrels had finished their valorous performance they got into their wagon
and drove off. Covered with feathers and without clothing, at a dead hour of
the night, two miles from any house, the villains left her, gagged and
insensible. How long she lay thus is not known, but the bitter cold restored
her senses, and after several hours' wandering about she reached the house
of a kind neighbor, who cared for her distresses.
The terrified old
man after some delay was able to attract the attention of his family, and
was released. The abduction of the girl was not known until they went to her
room to tell about the strange event. The astonishment of the household knew
no bounds when her absence was discovered.
In the morning a
messenger came for the girl's clothes, and when the story of her wrongs
became known the people were justly indignant and excited. As soon as she
was sufficiently recovered from the shock she went before Esquire Laughlin
to tell all she knew which might throw light upon the matter and lead to the
arrest of the wretches. But her evidence was insufficient. They had not
spoken a word, and of course she could not identify them by their voices.
There was nothing by which they could be distinguished, or that gave her the
slightest clue to the cause of the fearful indignity. Mr. Droll and his wife
and daughters came and bore witness to the uniform good conduct of the girl.
They had known her from childhood, and for years she had been an inmate of
their family, and during all that time she never had in the slightest degree
departed from the strictest rules of propriety, nor in any way deviated from
the most exacting laws of correct deportment or maidenly modesty. She was a
model of frankness, diligence, good sense and excellent temper. Her conduct
toward young men had been extremely reserved; in fact, she had avoided
rather than encouraged their society. In this latter fact there seemed the
only possible clue to the mystery. Was it possible that certain young men
whose advances she had met with indifference or coldness, and whose
addresses she had refused, could have committed this dastardly outrage in
revenge ? Inquiry around the neighborhood satisfied Mr. Laughlin that none
of the American or Irish boys of the settlement were absent from their homes
on the night in question, but there were a few young Germans who could not
or would not explain their absence from their beds at about the time when
the wrong was being perpetrated. These fellows were promptly arrested, and
several long and tedious trials resulted, but there not being sufficient
evidence against them to convict, they were all acquitted.
The young
woman continued to live in the family of Mr. Droll and manage their affairs
as usual for some time after this, until she married a respectable young man
living in a neighboring county, where she yet lives, respected by all who
know her. The affair is only remembered as one of those outrages which
innocent people sometimes suffer, and for the perpetration of which the
guilty escape richly merited punishment.
One of the denizens of the
settlement about Granville was a Mrs. Cresswell, a virago of Amazonian
strength and warlike propensities. She was the governor of her household,
her husband meekly accepting the second position in family affairs. She
"wore the pants," not only figuratively, but literally, being frequently
seen dressed in her meeker half's unmentionables, astride an old horse,
going to market. She made her thoroughly subdued husband cook, wash, iron
and do the housework, while she bossed the outside of the ranche to suit
herself. Besides other eccentricities, she was a sort of "yarb doctor," and
pretended to know many hidden virtues in various barks, weeds, roots and
flowers, and is accredited with having first introduced "gympson weed" into
the country. Her nag usually wore a bell, and its familiar tinkle,
indicating her approach to the village, repressed all unnecessary gaiety and
subdued any approach to merriment, for the masculine members shared with her
timid spouse a well guarded respect for her muscular arms and number ten
boots.
On one occasion Mr. Wafer and James Laughlin desired to cross
her field, it being the shortest route to their destination, and asked
permission as gently as possible, but the female, with arms akimbo, gave a
fierce refusal. They held a council of war, and concluded, as the case was
urgent, to force their way, while she brandished a formidable bunch of
"fives" and dared them to come on. The battle began, one of the men
attacking in front while the other by a flank movement reached the rear, and
grasping her arms, held them as in a vice while his companion let down the
bars, and driving the team through, replaced them and signalled his comrade,
who then turned and ran. Our informant avers the magnitude of her curses has
ever since prevented anything but the detested gympson weed from growing on
the spot.
One of the early settlers was John Robinson, an old Indian
hunter, who is known to have lived here in 1828. He was a keen sportsman,
and very successful. During the Indian troubles he refused to go into a
fort, and so remained in his cabin, sleeping at night with arms by his side.
No Indian came to claim his scalp. He was an original genius, and when asked
how long he had lived in the State, said it was so long he couldn't tell,
but when he came the Illinois was only a small brook.
Another well
known citizen was George Ish, who originally settled in Peoria County. He
was an old Indian fighter in the war of 1812, when he served under General
Harrison.
The ability of the aborigines to withstand cold is shown
in an incident related by Mr. Ish. During the severe winter of 1830 there
came to his father's cabin a squaw, nearly perishing with cold. She was
taken in, and such restoratives as were handy applied until her half frozen
members were thawed out and the circulation restored. Although solicited to
remain all night she refused, and, soon as able, re-mounted her pony and
proceeded, although the atmosphere was such that a white man could not
travel without risking his life.
Mrs. Gunn tells that when they came
to the country, ten men, women and children wintered in a cabin twelve feet
square, and didn't feel particularly crowded!
Here Mr. Gunn came in
search of a wife, and pleasantly recalls their courting "under
difficulties." But where there's a will, woman's wit will find a way, and a
private parlor was improvised by hanging a quilt across one corner.
Mr. Willis finding himself "out of meat" once, undertook to go after
supplies. His trip was made in a dugout, and he had to go somewhere in the
vicinity of Beardstown. It took a month to make the trip, and when he
returned the family had been on short rations for a week.
In 1836-7,
when paper towns were springing up all over the State, certain individuals
laid out the town of Barcelona, along the eastern limits of Granville. A
hotel was contracted for, and a steam mill was to be built, but nothing ever
came of the enterprise.
The early settlers lived on plain food, and
had plenty of exercise. They dressed plainly, kept regular hours, abstained
from excesses, and as a rule enjoyed good health. The exception to this was
the fever, that "smote them by day and wasted them by night.” From this
there seemed no escape except to wear it out. Large families were the rule,
and the cabin that could not show its round half dozen or more of tow-headed
boys and girls was an exception. The farmers returns in the field were not
more regular than the periodical yield of the cradle. Occasionally the
measles or some such disease "got loose" in a family and created an unusual
demand for catnip tea and other medicinal herbs. Once the measles got into
the family of Hugh Wanock, and a commiserating neighbor inquiring how many
were "down" was answered, "only twelve of the youngest."
It was the
custom in early days for farmers to exchange work during haying, harvest and
other heavy labor. In estimating such labor, a day's work was counted equal
to two bushels of wheat.
Wheat in those early days was frequently
hauled to Chicago by horse or ox teams, and the price was as low as 37-1/2
to 44 cents. Then calicos at Hennepin were worth 31 to 37-1/2 cents per
yard; eggs 3 cents per dozen; butter 6 cents a pound !
The settlers
did not regard times as desperate or hard in any sense. They had plenty to
eat and wear, and little need of money. People were were healthy, hearty and
happy.
The strange, wild beauty of the prairies will never be
forgotten. They were one vast parterre of flowers, changing their hues each
month of the season. In the fall great fires swept them over, leaving only a
blackened waste, but still sublimely beautiful. Upon the prairies of
Granville deer were plenty, and were sometimes seen in great droves or
flocks like cattle or sheep. They were not much hunted, and would come near
the woodchopper and visit the feeding places of the cattle.
Wolves,
the pests of the barn-yard in winter, were numerous. Now and then they were
run down on horseback and killed, but not often, as it was a difficult job
and worth a good horse's life to attempt it, for the wolf is long-winded and
very difficult to capture in this way. Many good horses were ruined in
attempting it.
During the cold winters they became ravenous for food
and would come to the very doors of the cabins in quest of it. They would
visit men chopping in the woods, coming so close that they could almost
strike them with their axes.
The Indian had a superstitious dread of
prairie wolves, and did not molest them, but would kill the timber species
because they scared their ponies, and, when occasion permitted, destroyed
their young colts.
Snakes were abundant everywhere, and the venomous
rattlesnake was justly dreaded. Mr. Gunn once found one coiled beneath his
chair, which had crept into the house unobserved. It was dispatched, and the
next day its mate was discovered and killed near the same place. These
reptiles always go in pairs, and when one is killed its mate invariably
seeks it. Deer are the deadly foes of snakes, and a citizen describes the
killing of one east of the village of Granville. He was traveling the road,
when he saw a group of deer seemingly greatly excited, and striving to stamp
something beneath their feet. They would go off a few steps and then return,
striking viciously and rapidly with their fore feet. The traveler watched
the performance until it closed, and on going to the place found a large
yellow rattlesnake cut to pieces with their sharp hoofs.
The Indians
never fed their ponies, that white men knew of. These little beasts, no
matter how long they had been used, would be turned, out at night to
skirmish around for food among the dead leaves and hazle twigs as best they
could.
Previous to the winter of the great snow, opossums were very
numerous, but that year they nearly all died off, and not for many years
after did they become plentiful. The somewhat unpopular, but pretty and
sometimes highly perfumed Mephitis Americanus, or skunk, was no stranger,
but was found in the swamps, timber, and on the prairies, and the traveler
on horseback was frequently glad to give the saucy little white-necked,
black-eyed, bushy-tailed, odoriferous creature not only the whole road, but
several rods margin beside.
Another animal often seen was the
badger, as pugnacious and full of fight when cornered as to-day. Mr. Ish
describes a combat he once saw between a sow and one of these fellows; in
which the sow got decidedly worsted.
No coal has been found in
Putnam County, and probably from the character of the formation none exists
in the vicinity of Hennepin, as the limestone formation which is reached
near the surface and has been bored to the depth of 800 feet precludes the
idea. But, toward the eastern limits, on the prairies at Tonica, and in the
country south and south-west is found this useful product, garnered in
nature's storehouse for man's future use, and as the surface and character
of the earth so far as tested are exactly similar to the coal region
immediately adjoining, there is no reason to doubt but that a stratum of
coal underlies both Granville and Magnolia.
Extracted 27 May 2017 by Norma Hass from Records of the Olden Time, 1880, by Spencer Ellsworth, pages 276-304.
| Bureau |  |
LaSalle |
| Marshall |
