Now and Then – Reminiscence
By Rev. B.F. Lawler
Page 6

Reminiscence:
The first merchant I ever saw in his store was named Hubbard. I was eight years old. His store was near the spring between J.Y. Wilson’s barn and the Chautauqua grounds. To me it was a very fine store being the first one I had seen; the purchase made for me that day was a “barlow knife”.
Roderick McCullock came next relative of his by same name who died in St. Louis last year. William L. Vaughn was a born merchant. Johnson and Vaughn was the firms name, Johnson being in the courts and United States Senate while Vaughn managed the great wholesale and retail business.
John F. Weidemeyer was a fine merchant, he was father of John F. Weidemeyer Jr., in Clinton so many years before his death. Trippet and Cock had a large business as merchants in the fifties in Osceola. Dorchester was a Northern man but was popular with the people and cast his lot with the South in the great war. Yeater and Sons were doing business at the opening of the war and the Sons were or are merchants in Sedalia. Wilson and Kline, Tilton and Sanders and John E. Rains were well known merchants in Bolivar. The older Shepherd was the only merchant I knew in Springfield. He was a wide awake merchant with a quick step making business move. I did business with him in 1856-7. Frank Ely of Ely Walker and Company was a merchant prince in St. Louis. I was entertained in his home thirty-five years ago.
James Herman and Thomas were selling goods in Humansville in the early years of Polk county. These are merchants who were known to me when I was not experienced in life affairs to a great extent, my estimate of them as men is made up from what I knew of them in those earlier years and I am free to say that they make a good impression on my mind. I knew some of them after the war and I have had no occasion to change my good opinion of them and it affords me real pleasure to tell the younger generation about them.
I knew Stagleg of Warsaw, but not so well as others.
We ought not, we cannot break with the past altogether without serious loss to ourselves and I lift my pen gladly to speak a word for them, most of whom have been silent in the cold, cold ground for many long years. Most of them were men when I was a boy but boys have eyes and ears and they have a measuring line and they carry away the measure of most every man with whom they do business even to defects in manner and want of some kind of cultivation.
We carry history from the remote past and profit by it in many ways the negative not being always the last – avoiding the mistake of those gone before us.
So we need our merchants, and as a class they rank well in life and moral honesty – most of them would sell to a child as good bargains as they would to the parents.
It was trade with Japan which Comodore Perry opened up for us many years ago, and business is a great “civilizes”, of course men can do wrong in business like many other things, but business men are doing great things for the world and for God. John Wanamaker, A.C. Stewart, A.D. Brown and L.B. Ely and McMaster of Canada have made their talents and their wealth serve the interests of the Kingdom of God and education. To those may be added a long list.B.F. Lawler

Reminiscence:
In about 1841 Powell Rogers, Frank Yost and my father rod on horses from St. Clair county, Mo., to Henderson county, Tennessee, crossing the Mississippi not far from the Iron mountain. Leather “saddle bags” were thrown across each saddle, answering for the valise of more recent times.
The distance was four hundred miles and required fifteen days, more or less, to make the journey. Visiting and business took many days. They fixed upon a day they would reach home. The day came and went wearily away. Night came and the great white moon shone silently down upon the hill and road father was to come over just before reaching home. Children remained wide awake and watched. Even the faithful old dog which had trudged all the way from Tennessee three years before watched the coming of his master with great restlessness; he would run away out on the hill and bark, bark, bark, and then run back to the door yard where mother and all the children were waiting for the coming of the one who was the center of all things earthly to his family, though he always held ‘first place’. The hours rolled slowly; nine, ten, eleven. The old dog grew almost frantic with excitement, for no doubt his quick ear had caught the sound of horses feet in the not far away for in a short time a man was seen riding one horse and leading another came in sight and soon we could hear the mater and his dog greeting each other as master and dog know so well how to do.
In settling up business in Tennessee a new horse had been added to our stock and had been led all the way beside the ridden horse.
Few people lived near us then and this was an all absorbing occasion.
In that early day a “mill trip” was an occasion of no small interest. Several days were spent in shelling corn, faning wheat and preparing for a “going to mill”. Waiting at that far away, tedious mill, for one’s “turn” had to be reckoned with and instead of two nights from home often the third night would be far spent before the “gee, haw and get up” with the loud “pop” of the long whip over the ox team could be heard by the home folks who had to borrow meal a second time before the new grist came home from the mill. Food enough was usually taken with the mill boy or boys to last till they returned, but not always, and usually they came home hungry.
But the waiting for the homecoming of the absent ones of the family, had something about it to remember that does not appeal to many people today. Indian stories were common and the “tommy hawk and scalping knife” had their influence still in some sections of the country, but this was not all. Families were bound together by cords unseen but felt, being produced by isolation and lonliness that made the homecoming of the absent ones a joy but not easily expressed. Wild beasts were still in the land and many a young wife whose husband had been detained by accident until a late hour of the night suffered from fear and anxiety not known in these days of close neighbors and “much people”.
John McNiel tells a story like this: he was sent on an errand which kept him till darkness had covered the land, and he had to cross a body of land covered with great trees, making it darker still. Trembling with fear he felt his way along the path and not being a large boy, his courage almost failed him. his father went to meet him in the dark woods. The father heard the foot falls of his coming boy and cried out, is that you, John! John McNiel said he never could describe the joy of his heart and the perfect safety he felt when he heard his father’s voice though he could not see him. B.F. Lawler

Reminiscence:
Mr. Wm. Horn says that 1854 was the driest year he ever saw and I agree with him that it was extremely dry. Corn and oats on all “uplands” were very short, some places an entire failure, but those who had what they called bottom lands had corn. The Coffey farms never failed on the lowlands as I had opportunity to know. Many springs failed and stock water in many places failed – wells were very few then. Late in the fall rains improved the “range” as it was called, for a great portion of the country was not fenced at that time, and winters following such summers were usually mild and stock did not suffer as one would expect. But when there was no “mast” the poor man had poor meat. Who knows what “mast” means or did mean then? No mast for hogs meant no acorns or very poor ones usually occasioned by drouth. Blackberries died on the vines too early for gathering them and we missed the wild fruits usually so plentiful.
I was then beginning the student life but still owned the farm now owned by Squire Coffey and in harvest I handled a scythe and cradle in the harvest fields. Because the straw was short as my scythe and cradle came up to my left hand after the swing through the standing grain and before the cradle wouldn’t swing back for another stroke my left hand had taken the grain out of the cradle and dropped in bunches ready for the binder. Except in dry years the grain was too heavy for this and it was left in swaths for the binders who followed close after the reapers. I have recently seen stacks of grain which showed that the stackers were only amateurs in the business.
In that dry year men’s hearts failed them more from the phenomena of nature as they called it than from fear of famine. One young lady hung herself with a silk handkerchief to a low limb on an apple tree because “dread” had overcome her courage and her beautiful young life was wasted and lost. There is a happy mean between abandon and fear.

Reminiscence:
A man once complained to an Editor that he had been publishing reports about him and that he was very much displeased about it. The Editor replied that if he, the man knew how many things he kept out of the paper, concerning him he would be surprised.
Many friends wonder how so many things are remembered so long which have appeared in these reminiscence. I wish to say to all that if they knew how many things have been kept out of the reminiscence they would be surprised.
I saw “Billy Cock” recently who was a merchant in Osceola in “Antebellum days” and it was almost like a visit to these distant times. He and Aaron Trippet sold goods not far from Wilson’s Drug store at this time, their business being general merchandise.
Mr. Rippet was one or two terms in the legislature. I remember well the day he came to our farm to ask father to vote for him, he had hitched his horse at the “bar” and walked in some distance to where we were at work. I then had a far away idea of being a man, but thought the time so long and the years passed so slowly by.
Many distinguished individuals called in our home or in the farm, but we, the children never thought once of asking a question or venture to express our opinion. We had the unlimited use of our ears and a much modified use of our eyes. We must not gave at a stranger. At table we might be next or opposite the visitor, and we could appear without “coat and collar to match”, the only requisite being face and hands well washed and hair well combed.
In this table talk business for many years we gained much education which we have brought all the way with us.
In this was the main compensation my father and mother had for entertaining distinguished visitors; for great matters were discussed many times at that table. The war with Mexico in 1846 was one of the familiar subjects discussed and Santa Anna was spoken of as though our guests had eaten breakfast with him just a few mornings ago.
One of the songs personified Santa Anna as saying to General Scott or Taylor something like this:
“You’ve whipped Apuda and Arista. Now try me, sir, at Buenavista.”
Those table talks left their impression upon us in religious matters also, many who were our guests being ministers of the gospel, a few being unable to instruct, but mainly they were educated in that wonderful Book at whose altar fires all orators, poets, historians and statesmen of note light their torches – it is well; and gladly I pay tribute to a home where such things were ours. B.F. Lawler

Reminiscence:
A few miles below Collins on Coon Creek is a great spring called the Puckaway spring around which for many rods was deep mire, no one knowing how deep, over this mud was occasional turf, and flags grew tall in places. The main spring was reached by means of “gang planks” being thrown out over the turfs of grass as advancement was made. It required steady, careful walking to go and return bringing the fine water out as we came, but I ventured to do it many times. We also found a way to keep our milk bottles in that cold spring water from morning till noon while in school near by on hot summer days.
That “school house play ground” has a charm that holds our memory yet and the dear old house itself is held in “fond recollection”, but the great spring and the “mire” all around, about which we heard such stories as mammoth bones being taken out and what monstrous things mammoths were, which while trying to drink from the great spring sank in the mire never to get out again. We could easily believe the stories for the bubbling water came up through the mud almost as soft as water, no one knew how deep.
“Mammoth stories” had a wonderful influence over our unsophisticated minds because the story tellers made the great beasts stand before our imaginations as large as houses on great legs and so heavy that they could never get out of such mud as we saw there.
Later in life we learned that prehistoric animals of great size had roamed at will, perhaps over the ground where we now live and that great bones have been found confirming many of the stories we used to hear. One of the things that was hard for us to understand and that was the enormous amount of food the great animals consumed and how it could be understood in “comparative Anatomy” whether the animal was a flesh eating or an herb eating animal. Later we learned that an Anatomist could, from a single bone construct the entire skeleton and tell the habits of the animal.
I hope this will be as interesting to young students as it was to me, and that older people may be interested in how they used to be thrilled with romance and story and how it helped them to find out that some things were not historically true such as the story of Romulus and Remus and the wolves.
But have you noticed in your more mature studies how hard it is to give up some, “illusions of history”? Prof. William Mathews will help you to let some of them go.
There is so much, however, that we learned in childhood that is true – has never failed us – thanks to a good home which God mercifully gave us – so much that is pure and good that it encourages us to say to all parents and teachers to look well to their opportunity to tell the children true stories, good stories, fine stories. B.F. Lawler

Reminiscence:
In the early “forties” the United States land office for this section of the country was in Springfield and Mr. Campbell was the Receiver, Uriel L. Southeralnd went from St. Clair county to “enter land” as it was then called. Mr. Southerland placed the numbers describing the land he wished to buy from the government, together with a great deal of gold and silver on the desk and was arranging some of his papers, but while he was thus engaged Mr. Campbell, the Receiver commenced examining the silver coins piled high before him on the desk.
Mr. Southerland said: “Mr. Campbell, I have brought you good money here and no other kind to buy all the land I want.” Mr. Campbell went on examining the money and Mr. Southerland heard him crack a dollar by striking it a blow with his hammer. Mr. Southerland again told Mr. Campbell that he had no bad money and he did not want his coins mutilated in any manner. Mr. Campbell paid no attention and cracked another dollar. Mr. Southerland said: “Mr. Campbell, I dare you to crack another dollar of my money”, and this in a voice that Mr. Campbell understood quite well and slowly laid his hammer away looking into the land buyers face to be sure as to what might happen. But no more money was examined with a hammer.
The land office was moved from there to Clinton and afterwards to Warsaw, but why these removals I have no means of knowing.
I bought some of my land while the office was in Warsaw, but that which my father gave me, he bought when the office was in Clinton and Franklin Pierce was President of the United States – so says the land patent.
Many men lived on Government land for many years without being disturbed by Government officers or by their neighbors. Once in a great while we would hear of a man who was “Entered out”, and paradoxical as that may appear the man was out and it came about by another man “entering” or the buying the land from the Government with all the “appertinances thereto”.
Sometimes there would be serious trouble as the “Settler” had so long lived on his “claim” as they were called, that it was home to him and very valuable. Some people had planted orchards and made other improvements on the land. Many claims consisted only of a cabin and a “truckpatch” for a time. Government land sold for many years at $1.25 per acre and then it was reduced to $.75 per acre until all was taken as I suppose many years ago.
In those days roads occupied the best ground for roads often cutting tracts of land from one corner to another at an opposite angle. This has been corrected now to the detriment of the ease and speed with which we then traveled from one point to another.
Very few men could locate a certain piece of land getting its “meets and bounds” as given by the surveyors of those early times.
A company of Government surveyors camped near our house one cold night and cooked their meals in our kitchen. They had a musical instrument with them. That was the first time I ever heard the tune “Greenville” as we now have it.
In “entering land” three things were prominent in the minds of settlers and the first was timber – must not get away from the timber – freeze in winter. The second thing was water – living water. Next to find these two things close to good “bottom land” even if the tract was narrow it must be rich and good – prairie bottom was much sought after, but high prairie was not regarded as being valuable. I remember when a change in the opinion of some people slowly came and a few began to open farms far out on the prairie as we thought. But the “timbered bottom” farm has never been discounted in the mind of many people.
When the soldiers returned from the Mexican war in ’46 – ’47, some of them sold their “land warrants” remarkably cheap and many a modest homesteader hastened to law a hundred and sixty acre “land warrant” on his claim so dear to him, for already the uncertainty of living on “claims” was keenly felt.
It may be of interest to some of our readers to study about how “fractional forties” occur occasionally and why the old surveyors did not “follow the needle straight to the pole”.
It is enough for this pen to again recur to times when land was entered and homes established which sent out the best any country can send, and that is – people. B.F. Lawler

Reminiscence:
Seventy years ago steamboats unloaded goods near the Chautauqua grounds. Mr. Hubbard had a nice stock of goods in a building not far from where the ticket stand is now, but the great bare rocks in the ravine were not to be seen then.
The crowds on those grounds for a week, perhaps, did not have more than one person present at any time who lived in the county seventy years ago.
What a contrast! Then the town was mainly near where Mr. Shaffner’s residence now is and the country was new.
Steamers whistled in the river and the few settlers were buoyant with hope and the beautiful “wild” of all the country had a charm not felt by a Chautauqua company and an inspiration different from that of the frequent encore, (encore) so freely given.
My first ride to town was on top a load of hemp from which great ropes or cables used to be made. The long strands of lint were twisted in great bunches having been prepared by the use of hemp breaks across which the long stalks in small bundles were placed and a break head having similar bars and operated by hand, broke the stalks into fine pieces leaving the lint in long strands.
The team stopped soon after crossing the little ravine which will be remembered by most people attending Chautauqua and the hemp was sold to Mr. Hubbard and as we stood by the counter in his fine store my part of the dividends was a Barlow knife, my first possession of the kind when I was eight years old.
I think I could write up the Chautauqua fairly well but it did not take from my mind altogether Mr. Hubbard and his, to me, very fine store, nor visions of a busy father and elder brother who had high hopes for the country and its future. Nor have I forgotten the great quiet eyed oxen which drew the wagon – the same had brought part of our house hold from Tennessee just four years before that time. The four horse team had been disbanded, two of which after honorable service had died.
As I sat in the crowds and looked into hundred of faces last week wondering as to the thoughts upper-most in their minds. One thing was apparent, all seemed to enjoy the entertainment and while I saw all this I felt a profound respect for the thirty=five men whose guaranty made it possible for the Chautauqua to be and for the educative element so good for all.
But do not blame me for being carried back seventy years to those halcyon days before I knew about “care-encumbered men” and the dangerous paths in which children tread. Nor will the reader blame me for being carried back fifty-two years when I saw the Confederate soldiers in line in front of where the Lucas bank now is, as they sang Dixie so lustily – so fine in appearance in their silver gray uniforms, I can see them yet, even their faces as they sang – the one at the end of the column sang base. Poor fellows; few of them ever returned from the war.
The Italians putting all their soul into their Chautauqua music, especially Dixie, brought all this back to me, in vision and in thought and you will not blame me for living for one hour in the past – the shouts of the Chautauqua people at the close of the music sounded like the shouts of the stirring tunes of the days of long ago – you will not blame me for a silent tear. B.F. Lawler

Submitted by Stacy Kelly

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