More information on Early Iowa from Frank Mathews Aug. 1899

MATHEWS, MCCARVER, ARCHIBALD, BOX, ROBERTSON, SMITH, CORDELL, JOHNSON, PRYOR, CARTWRIGHT, SHINN, STEWART, MCFARLAND, SIMMONS, TAYLOR

Posted By: Deb (email)
Date: 10/10/2007 at 20:53:45

Mt. Pleasant Weekly News
August 16, 1899

CORRECT HISTORY

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Accurate Record of the Earlier Happenings in the County
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Another Interesting Article from the Pen of Mr. Frank Mathews – How They Built a School House – Michael See Again

In a late history of Henry County published by the Western Historical company of Chicago, page 550 claims to give a history of the first settling of Lowell, Iowa. It says that the town was laid out by M.M. McCarver. It was laid out by Edmond Archibald. It says that T.S. Box was the first white child born there. My oldest sister, Mary Ann(now, Mrs. James Robertson, of Mt. Union, Henry County) was the first. T.A. Box was born in a cabin in his father’s farm on the south side of the river about a mile and a half from Lowell. He claims that he was the first male child born in the county, and I think he is justly entitled to that honor. That history says that the first school was built of logs; was used for school and church purposes, and was blown down in 1836. The first school house was built in December, 1838. It was built of small logs, and by volunteer labor. The whole neighborhood turned out. Some cut down trees, others hauled logs, some of them crosscut timber for clapboards. My father and Hiram Smith split the clapboards, J.P.A. Box, Cordell, Edmond Archibald and Benjamin Box carried up the corners. The roof was held on by weight poles. The door was made out of split white ash, split and shaved with a shave or drawing knife and pinned together with a half inch auger, hung on wooden hinges with a buckskin string to lift the latch. There was not a nail in the whole house. The floor was pounded earth. The fireplace occupied nearly one whole end, and was made of split logs lined with broad flat stones and clay, with stick and clay chimney. The seats and desks were made of puncheons, split and hewed out of basswood logs. The windows were made by sawing out a log on each side and pasting in greased writing paper. The house stood on the south side near the spring not far from the mill yard.

Here I took my first lessons in Chirography. Henry Johnson was the teacher and although a crusty old Vermont bach, was a good one. The first morning he brought in a long slim hazel eight or ten feet long. The first day we had one seat about twelve feet long and as there were twelve scholars we had to sit close together. The scholars were all ages from six to twenty-five. There were at least four or five young ladies. I sat on the end of the bench fartherest from the teacher, while next to me was Miss Cordell. She whispered to me “You aint no man at all,” and gave a hitch toward me shoving me off the seat. This made some disturbance. The teacher seized the gad and fetched it a whack along the backs of about all of us. I being on the end it made a welt that was sore for some time.

I got even with that girl very soon. We were a very uncouth set, and before he dismissed school he instructed us in manners, showed the boys how to lift their caps to ladies or persons that they might meet. But the hardest job was to teach the girls to courtesy. He would show them how to place their feet and how to bend the knees. This Miss Cordell had a will of her own, and said, “Yankee manners are all nonsense.” He told us all that in the morning he would be there when we came, and that every one must in coming in lift his cap, and say “Good morning Mr. Johnson.” Then take his or her seat. The girls must courtesy and do likewise. It all went pretty well until the Cordell girl came. She was about twenty years old and had tried every way she could think of to persuade he mother to let her stay away from school. But her mother was firm; told her to go, for it was time she was learning some manners. She came in, ducked her head and went to take her seat. But the teacher said, “ no you shall not take your seat until you make the proper manners.” He first gave her a long lecture on the subject of manners. Told her that she was now a young lady; was good looking; would go into society, and how awkward she would appear. She cried, and was obstinate as a mule. After trying moral suasion, he took down his persuader and gave her three or four licks. Then she came to time; did the best she could, which was awkward indeed. She was like the pet bear that tried to dance; he could not get the step. But her father with his numerous family emigrated to Oregon. There she married and did well.

That school house was used to put tools in and for a carpenter shop the next summer and until the mill on the north side was completed. Then a man, by the name of Speare; put in a stock of liquor, which was thought to be one of the necessary things for a town of any pretentions. Lowell’s prospects were then considered good. The water power was the best on the river. Here was stone of fine quality; timber in abundance. Wheat did well then, and flour was hauled to Burlington, Keokuk and Fort Madison. Coopering was brisk and wagon making was a good trade.

So bright was its prospects that M.M. McCarver, who helped lay out Burlington, came and invested. By a petition to the legislature, the name was changed to McCarverstown, and one of the leading merchants of Burlington, Marion More, came there and set a dry goods store, although a Mr. Pryor, a merchantman had a store, the first one, and kept the post office. They each kept a barrel on tap, and before trading they were expected to pass the tumbler.

About this time, 1843 or 44, the school house and the church spoken of in the history article were built. As room was the great consideration, it was built with many spliced logs and not well put together. It blew down a few years ago. In this was organized a lodge of Free Masons and I believe a lodge of Odd Fellows or a temperance order, I forget which. Some of the most noted Methodist preachers held quarterly and protracted meetings there. I remember seeing the Presiding Elder, Daniel Cartwright, brother of the noted Peter Cartwright, Dr. Shinn, the Teases, L.I. Stewart. The first camp meeting I remember of was held at Lowell at the spring of Robert Box, now McFarland’s spring. Many people attended it from a distance of thirty to fifty miles. During the experience meeting I remember hearing one old lady exclaim, “Thank the Lord I am here, I have come fifty miles with an ox team to be here,” slapping her hands said “my soul is happy. I feel that I must stay here six weeks for I have not had the opportunity to attend church for three years.” Most every one came with an ox team. The grass and wild pea vines grew very fine on the river bottom there, and the oxen were turned out to graze. Some one watching them to prevent straying. At night they were either yoked up and chained to a tree, or yarded in the neighboring feed lots.

I remember seeing but one carriage with horses attached. It came out from Burlington. At the beginning of the meeting a lot of mischievous young men one dark night went off over across the ravine that the spring was on, and opposite the camp ground, and built up a large fire and started a meeting of their own. They would sing and pray and call for mourners, and the master of ceremonies would call out, “ that is a d__ med good haul. Let’s have another.” They made so much disturbance that the people at the camp ground called for volunteers to disperse them and the rowdies was a steep bank of the ravine some six or eight feet high. Over this in the darkness went several of them down among the branches at the bottom of the ravine. The next day several of them had their faces and hands done up from the bruises received from the fall. The rowdies had their guards out to give the alarm and when the posse came to the fire not a person could be found. It was generally believed that Mike See was the ring leader.

At this meeting many were converted and saw the error of their ways, and drunkedness and fighting were not as frequent as before. During the summer of 1838 my father rented two acres of ground of Robert Box which he planted to corn. When it was up nice he told me that I was old enough to work in the field. So he introduced me to a hoe that I shall never forget. It was about eight inches wide and five or six inches deep and about one forth of an inch thick with a hole through it, to receive the handle, at least two inches across with a green hickory stick with the bark on for a handle. His hoe was some larger. He would hoe his row and every other hill on my row. The corn had been plowed with a single shovel plow twice in the row, which left the greater part of the ground to be cultivated with a hoe. I was then about nine years old and the handle being rather rough my hands blistered badly. My arms, back and neck ached, and I longed for the cool shade on the bank of the river, with my fishing pole. But there was no let up. The corn had to be hoed once a week for three weeks. At that time the ground was full of stumps, roots and horse weeds that would grow ten feet tall. As soon as the ears of corn was ripe enough to glaze over we gathered some of it to grind for meal. We put it up on a shed to dry and every day for a week I had to climb up and turn each ear over so it would dry and not mold; and when it was shelled I was sent to mill on a horse. The mill was on the south side of the river and as near as I can recollect about eighty rods north and west of Bethany church.

It was owned by a Mr. Simmons. The burs were made out of out native boulders and were driven by either ox or horse power. Whatever you came to mill with, you hitched to the sweep and ground your own grist and tolled it yourself. The toll was put in a barrel. If you ground with oxen you had to walk around behind them, whip them up or else the sound of the grinding would get very low, oxen would get dizzy and fall down. It would grind at the rate of a half bushel an hour. But this beat tin grates.

I had started to the mill early in the morning, but so many were ahead of me that I did not get my grist until about 5 o’clock p.m. I had no dinner and felt hungry and cross, for one man bullied me out of my time, and when about half way home I passed a large hornet nests hanging on a bush, I unthinkedly gave it a kick, and out they came and began to sting me and the horse. I could not keep the meal on the horse and stay on myself, so I took the horse away some distance and got him quieted and began to plan how to get the meal on the horse. Not far from where the meal fell off was a tree that had been partly blown down. It was about two feet through and about thirty feet from the butt. It was a little higher than the hors. Well I dragged and pulled the sack up the tree and got on the horse, got him up near the tree and tried to pull the sack on before me, but the horse kept snorting and looking for hornets and the sack rolled off on the ground instead of on the horse. I then petted the horse awhile, pulled up some grass and gave him and then I rolled the sack up the log again and next time I got it on the horse, got home with it, I thought nearly tired to death, but when my mother had made some mush and I had filled up on that and milk, I thought it was the sweetest thing I had ever eaten.

In the fall trouble came on. Many were taken with chill and fever, ague and spasm came on with scarcely well ones enough to care for the sick. The doctors knew nothing but to bleed cup and blister and dope with calomel and jalap. With typhoid fever I think many persons died that would have gotten well if they had not been doctored at all. Mrs. Benjamin Box was taken down with what the doctors called typhoid. Dr. Hall, of Danville was called. She got very bad and a doctor was called for consultation from New London. They said that she would not live as she had turned a dark or saffron color. They would not allow her to drink cold water and she continually wanted it. After the doctor said she could not live, her daughter, Polly said, “Mother shall not die calling for water.” She held the gourd to her mouth and her mother grabbed hood of it with both hands for fear that she would not get enough. She got a good drink and soon commenced to vomit, and when she had stopped they all thought her dying. But in a few minutes she rallied and called for more water. They gave her some more and it stayed down a little longer than the first. But soon it came up with a lot of green slimy matter. At each vomiting she would faint away, but as soon as she would rally sufficiently she would cry “Water, water”, they gave it to her as often as desired. Finally the sweat broke out all over her face and she slept for some time and in six days she was sitting up and soon recovered.

Another instance some years later was Mrs. Perry Taylor, who then lived in Garden Grove township, Lee County, and afterwards lived near Hillsboro in Henry County. She was taken sick and after a similar course of medicine she wanted cucumbers but the doctor forbade her from eating any thing of the kind. Mr. Taylor was at our house tolling what the doctor had said. We had a fine garden and plenty of cucumbers. Mother gave him a lot of them saying, “You and the children can eat them but do not let her know you have them for she will want them is she sees them.” But some how she found out they were there and when her husband had gone out to work she made one of the children bring her a large one and peel it and with some salt she eat the whole of it. Mr. Taylor soon came in and finding out what she had done he was much distressed, and wanted me to go to West Point, six miles for the doctor, but my mother told me to wait a while and see what effect it would have on her. My mother went with him to his home and stayed a while and came back saying she was much better. She soon recovered.

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