John Spencer

SPENCER

Posted By: Joanna Mulford (email)
Date: 11/4/2001 at 07:50:33

Keosauqua Iowa, Wednesday, March 17, 1909

NOTABLE PIONEER

BIOGRAPHY THAT READS LIKE ROMANCE
SKETCH OF JOHN SPENCER

CHAMPION FIGHTER AND BAD MAN BECOMES A HUMBLE AND DEVOTED CHILD
OF THE CHURCH

The Register and Leader of the State contained the third of the interesting articles by
Gen. Weaver on early times in Iowa. The pioneer Iowans. The article is devoted
wholly to a sketch of John Spencer, a notable but highly respected character of the
hardy pioneer type, who was born in Virginia in 1804 and settled in Van Buren
township, Van Buren county, a few miles northeast of Lebanon in 1849. The article is
too long to be produced, as we should like, hence we only sketch it.

John Spencer was born near Martinsburg, Va. in 1804. His father was 10 years old,
when Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown in 1781. His mother was born in 1777. Both
of his grandfathers were soldiers in the Revolution. At that early date in Virginia, the
children of unlettered parents, living on remote plantations, had no opportunity to
acquire even the rudiments of an education. This with two or three exceptions had
been the conditions of all Spencer’s ancestors, as far back as he had any knowledge of
them.

Such was the somber setting in which John’s life was cast. He proved, however, to be
an exceptional child and finally a man of remarkable physical prowress and intellectual
vigor. He developed rapidly in stature and strength and was noted for his fearless
disposition. He eventually stood six feet four, strong from personal observation. There
was about him a certain sovereign suavity of manner that made him always interesting.
He was gentle, just, quick to forgive and the protector and defender of women.

Spencer had a bibulous neighbor who was cruel to his wife. Chancing to meet him at
the shooting match. Spencer accompanied him home. Arriving about supper time, the
husband demanded supper at once in a most preemptory style. The affrighted and
humiliated wife scrapped some meal out of a barrel and mixed it with water, put it in an
old-fashioned flat oven to bake. He demanded in brutal tones to know why she did not
bake biscuits. No answer came, but hot tears trickled down her sad cheek. This was
too much for Spencer, who called the husband out. Adjusting a rope around his neck,
he threw the end over a limb, and drew the fellow up and held him there until he was
limp. Letting him down, he warned him if he did not quit his cups and look after his
family, he would return and seeing him up for good. The admonition had the desired
effect and complete reformation quickly followed.

HIS MARRIAGE

In the midst of this unruly rough hewn life he led till he met a young Virginia lady and
settled on a small plantation of his own. His industry and strength brought comfort to
his home and added acres to is estate. Meantime children gathered around his
hearthstone filling his life with new responsibilities. He became convinced that a
radical change must be effected in his daily life that would free him from vicious
companionship which was destroying his peace of mind and the happiness of his young
wife and family. Such an awakening with greater or less emphasis comes to every
rational being. Our Divine Father would be less than GOD, and even less than human
if he did not thus admonish his erring children. The trouble lies in our own nonaction,
that fatal ingredient in the alchemy of human life which has neutralized so many good
resolutions between the nursery and the churchyard. But, John acted upon his
convictions. He was sinewy and symmetrical, kicking the beam at 225 pounds. When
a few months past 15 years of age he accompanied his father to a muster at
Martinsburg. Among the crowd assembled chanced to be a man of great strength, who
was at the time both drunk and quarrelsome. He was known throughout that part of
Virginia as the Hercules of all that country, having vanquished every antagonist who
closed with him in battle. This fellow offered some indignity to John’s father, who was a
man of only ordinary strength and was sick at the time. The boy, however, stepped up
to the offender and pointing a finger at him said, “The day I am 18 years old, if you are
in these parts I will give you a sound thrashing.” The interminty of the gangling,
beardless lad infuriated the champion. He replied: “You will never see the day you can
even scratch me.” They separated and each went his way. Two years and a half
afterwards came John’s eighteenth birthday. This morning announcing he would spend
the day in town, he started on foot for Martinsburg, seven miles away saying nothing to
anyone concerning his mission. He readily found his man at the tavern and the battle
was speedily arranged, the barroom of the tavern being selected as the scene of the
conflict. The champions with their seconds took their positions, the crowd remaining
outside. The battle opened slowly, but after forty minutes of the fighting young Spencer
was victorious and the doctor took the old champion in hand. The lad had kept his
word. As the people rushed around him with their congratulations, he remarked that he
was afraid his good luck might get him in trouble after awhile. And so it proved, as his
theory gave him a disagreeable notoriety among the rough element and mountaineers,
who made Martinsburg their rendezvous, and during the next five years he was forced
to fight a dozen battles, some of them dangerous ones, but he was always victorious.

An incident is related showing John’s strength at this time. He was on his way home
one evening when he encountered an enraged bull, just out of an encounter with
neighboring dogs on a high bridge. As John approached the infuriated animal, with
bowed neck and gleaming eyes made a lunge for him. Spencer caught him by the right
horn and the nostrils and threw him off the bridge into the water and rocks 20 feet
below.

Spencer fairly bubbled over with original wit and was one of the sprightliest story
tellers. His anecdotes were always chaste free from superfluous words and drawn
accordingly. He visited a preacher in the neighborhood--a blacksmith, in whom he had
implicit confidence, stated his case and inquired what he should do. The good man
untied his apron took the young man to his home, prayed with him, and cordially
extended an invitation to stay for dinner, which he accepted. After dinner he told
Spencer that he had been thinking over his case for some time and had made up his
mind what must be done and be done at once, if the young farmer would rise to the
dignity of character necessary to make him a good citizen of the old dominion. He
should join the church, break away from his rought companions and seek the
association of refined and sober people. He took the good man at his words and was
converted in a whirlwind of religious enthusiasm and spiritual power. Many of his rude
companions and neighbors followed him into the fold of the Good Shepherd, among
them the man he had punished for maltreating his wife. In analyzing his own character
afterwards he said: “Before conversion I was willfully bad and devilishly acting. Now I
want to do good and be constantly at it.” Several months of unalloyed happiness
elapsed during which new and valuable associations were formed and life took on
phrase of which he had never dreamed. Strength of will made it easy for him to change
his associates and manner of life. But, his pious advisors warned him to keep sharp
lookout for his adversary and be on guard. His new and serene life flowed on for
months without a ripple; his farm began to afford evidence of unusual care, the wife
was happy and the home joyous. One Sabbath morning soon there after, as John sat
rocking in his double log cabin his wife said, “John, look out doors!” he arose and
there stood two deer, just at the edge of the forest, about 50 yards away, looking
directly at the cabin. He reached for his gun but remembering it was the Lord’s day, he
let his arm fall by his side, stepped out, exclaiming, “Good morning! Call tomorrow and
I will settle with you.” “This,” said he, “was one of the devil’s cleaver tricks, but it didn’t
win.”

One morning as he sat at breakfast, facing the open door, a powerful looking young
man stepped up to the gate and inquired if John Spencer lived there. “yes, sir; come
in,” responded John. “No, thank you, I understand you claim to be the best man in
Virginia, and I have come to take the ------

VAN BUREN COUNTY GROUP OF FAMOUS MEN
by Edgar R. Harlan, Curator, Historical, Memorial and Art Department
Des Moines, Iowa
_____________________________________________________________________
I am indebted to my good friend Judge Dillion H. Payne of Bloomfield for his sketch of
one of the most remarkable men of all, who have lived in Van Buren County.

There were three or four John Spencers in the early days of the county. One, at least
was in Cedar Township, and an ardent Methodist. But, the Uncle John Spencer, Mr.
Payne describes lived west of Pittsburgh and was the ancestor of the good folks of that
name still residing in that region. I regret the absence in Mr. Payne’s sketch of specific
dates, but that does not mar the otherwise valuable sketch which I here adapt to my
purpose. The entire sketch is to be found in the Bloomfield Republican of Feb. 8, 1923.
_____________________________________________________________________

UNCLE JOHN SPENCER

This man a generation ago was one of the best known men in southeastern Iowa. He
could neither red or write, but his stock of good sense was unusual. He was a
Virginian, of strong and bony frame. He was about six feet and four inches in height.
His weight when in his prime was from 225 to 250 pounds. He came to Iowa as one of
the early pioneers and his great notoriety was intensified by his never failing religious
enthusiasm. When he was about 18 years old, they had what they called “Muster Day”,
when all able bodied men had to meet and go through a military drill. Those were
occasions also for tests of strength.

Uncle John said he was present once on a Muster Day and some of his friends came to
him and told him that a bully was bragging that he was the best man on the ground and
could whip any man there. They told young Spencer that he was the David to meet the
giant. They stripped for the fight with the circle of men around to see fair play. The
fight was fierce. Spencer prevailed. He said that fight spoiled him for he had to meet
and fight every bully that came into the community. The stories of his valor and
strength were told in a very interesting and really modest way, but, you could not doubt
the truth. He was a great whiskey drinker until he was thirty five years old. He said
that his neighbors remarked they could trust him with anything but a barrel of whiskey.
He could take a full barrel of whiskey and lift it from the ground and hold it over the
head, which was regarded as a great feat of strength. He lived among Methodists and
was converted when he was about thirty five years old. From that time both in Virginia
and Iowa, he was always assigned the duty of keeping order at the camp meeting. One
time in Virginia at a camp meeting he was sent out in the timber to quiet a bunch of
fellows, who were causing a disturbance. When he got there he found a man with a
barrel of whiskey and lots of glasses, from which he was delivering drinks to the crowd.
He ordered the man to take his wagon and leave. The man made some insolent reply.
Uncle John walked up to the bar and with his big foot sent the board and glasses
through the timber. This was warning enough and the man pulled out.

When Iowa territory was opened to settlement he came West seeking a home in the
extreme frontier. He entered a claim in Van Buren township in the early forties. He had
much to do with the spread of Methodism in that early day. The ordinary meetings and
preaching were held in the homes until the log meeting houses were built. An
illustration of the tact and good sense of Uncle John will be seen in this incident: A
young man converted in the meetings was very zealous in the cause and concluded
that he had a call to preach. Nobody else thought so. He approached Uncle John on
the subject expecting favorable advice. Uncle John told him to come over to his house
at ten o’clock the next morning. Promptly on time the young fellow appeared. He
invited the blossoming evangelist to go with him to the log smokehouse. There he
turned a barrel upside down for a pulpit and gave him the text to preach from.
Suspended from the ceiling hung the smoked meat, and apples. These subjects wee
not calculated to stir the imagination of a young preacher. Uncle John took his seat on
a box and said to the young candidate, that if the Lord wanted him to preach, He would
give him the liberty of speech. All ideas , if he had any, vanished; words failed him and
the Lord did not come to his rescue. That was an easy way to let the young man down
and not hurt his feelings.

Nearly all the frontiersmen wee good rifle shots. Almost any man was supposed to
shoot a squirrel in the head or hit a deer or wild turkey. Uncle John was an expert with
his old flintlock gun brought with him from Virginia.

In those times the Methodists carried on most of their revivals in camp meeting tents.
The people from far and near would come and bring their tents and stay two or three
weeks or even longer. These were intensely exciting times and old fashioned
conversions was still the rule. The shouts of the converts and the amens and the
hallelujahs of the saints made the woods fairly ring. Uncle John Spencer was always
there or within fifty miles. The preachers all knew him and loved him. His “Amens”,
“That’s a fact, brother,” and “ I believe that brother” were copiously distributed through
the sermons and helped along with out offense or disturbance. His personal
testimonials were always odd and sensational, but intensely spiritual and thrilling.

One feature of Methodism at that time was the class meetings and class leader. Uncle
John took it upon himself to be a class leader of all the Methodist children. He counted
them as a member of his class and would visit the homes, talk to the children and
collect from them what was called quaterage. The children all loved him and were very
proud to belong to his class and make contributions. I remember one time my Mother
and I were walking along the road, I found a silver dime and picking it up and
exclaiming to my Mother that I would pay my quaterance with it to Uncle John. when
quarterly meeting came around Uncle John would be there and report the quarterage
paid by his class. The presiding elder would come to each charge once in three
months and meet with the official board and see that Methodism was prospering. On
one of those occasions the presiding elder called the meeting to order and noticed that
John was not on hand as usual. He mentioned the matter and one of the brethren said
that he would come all right. Soon they say him coming on horseback with a saddle of
venison on before him. When he came up they gave him the laught for being late and
he said that he liked to pay his quarterage with a quarter of venison and that delayed
him a little. he told them he waited until the last day to go out for a deer. He thought
he would put the Lord to a test, he said he took his horse and gun that morning and
went into the woods. He said to the Lord, “Now, Lord, if it is right to pay my quarterage
with venison, give me a deer.” Just then a fine buck stuck his head out of the brush
and he drew a bead on him and shot him through the heart. This illustrates the
childlike faith of the man and who can say the Lord did not hear and answer the
prayer? The preacher received the venison all right and the quarterly meeting was a
success.

He was a great story teller. He would often intensify the affect by demonstration. At
one time the Methodist conference met at Keosauqua and the Bishop was there. I think
it was Bishop Thompson. At least the bishop was a rather light and small man. Uncle
John had a story he told the preachers. He had happened along by a country
blacksmith shop and hearing the screams of a woman ran to the shop door and found
the blacksmith drunk about to kill his wife. Uncle John rushed on the blacksmith and
taking him by the back of the neck and the seat of his pants held him over the anvil and
told him he would butt his brains out if he did not let his Christian wife alone. the
blacksmith was scared sober. Some of the preachers at the Keosauqua conference got
him to tell the story to the Bishop. Uncle John must have regarded this as an
auspicious occasion. as he came to the part where he grabbed the blacksmith and
shook him over the anvil Uncle John grabbed the Bishop in the same way, turned him
upside down and scared the ecclesiastic as he had the blacksmith.

When he was present he was always the center of attrition and no one ever doubted
his religion or failed to enjoy his religious zeal. At one time some of the brethren
complained that Uncle John talked too much in meeting and sometimes missed the
mark. He took the suggestion all right and made an effort to control his impulses and
emotions. Not long after in a stirring meeting he controlled himself pretty well for
awhile, but he finally could not stand it any longer and burst out with “Amen” hit or miss.
On another occasion in a meeting in Bloomfield, Sister Ellis a very devout woman was
giving her testimonial and made some strong statements as to her purpose in the
Christian life and Uncle John encouraged her by calling out, “That’s right sister Ellis, be
a man.”

He was a large and very vigorous man even in old age, and in giv9ng his Christian
testimony and experience he would often close by saying “Glory” and bring his foot
down the floor until he nearly shake the church building. When he was present they
always had a good meeting and a live time.

He was a firm believer that God heard prayer and talked out loud, too, when necessary,
to his children. He used to tell them of an occasion when he was chopping in the
timber and he heard a voice from Heaven saying to him, “Spencer go to Rupe’s.”
Spencer lived a mile or two away and Uncle John lit out through the timber to find out
what was the matter at Rupe’s. When he got there he was just in time to stop Rupe
from beating his wife. He stopped the proceedings. Spencer firmly believed that he
heard a voice and that God spoke to him. He would say, “ Some people tell me that it
was only a “pression on the mind, but I knew better.” He used to visit Bloomfield in his
later years and Gen. and Mrs. Weaver were always glad to keep him at their home.
One night during a revival in Bloomfield, Uncle John and I came home first and he
seemed old, bent over and trembly. As he took off his overcoat and hat I stepped up to
him and said, “Uncle John I have a notion to lay you down on your back.” it would have
done you good to see the old man straighten up with flashing eyes and say, “All right
come on.” Old as he was my discretion said that I was safer out of the reach of those
immense boney arms.

Another time he was sitting in front of the fireplace at Weavers and had his hands and
chin resting on a hickory cane looking into the blazing fire. The children were gathered
around listening to him telling stories. The scene appealed to me and I hastily drew a
pencil sketch of him sitting there and showed it to him and the children. I was not much
of an artist and the picture was not quite true to life. Little Ruth looked at it and said,
“Uncle John, I’ll draw a picture of you and I’ll make it pretty.” This tickled the old man to
think he could be made to look pretty.

Spencer loved his church intensely and loyally, but he loved all Christian people. I
have heard him tell of an evangelist who held a series of meetings and had a big
revival and gathered in many souls. This evangelist left and after a few months
returned to see how the new converts were holding out. In the meantime a Universust
preacher had been holding meetings in the same neighborhood. Hearing about this the
evangelist thought to admonish the people to beware of false doctrines. He told his
people that he had heard that a stranger had been in their midst and had been
preaching that “all men would be saved, which God forbid.” Uncle John could see that
it was ridiculous for an evangelist not to be willing that all men should be saved.

John Spencer lived on a timber farm near the Keosauqua on the Des Moines River. He
died 30 years ago and was way past 80 years old. He was the finest combination of
sturdy human strength and tender religious sympathy and emotion, I ever knew. As a
small boy I saw him in his home, heard him give his testimony with thrilling effect in
many religious meetings. I never heard a person say a harmful or distrustful word
against him.

copied 1942