Part Five
- “The Dial of Progress”, Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, Thursday, July
13, 1899.
A young lady who was reading the article in which I mentioned the
incident of the Bellows, a “pair of bellows” being the term used. The
word “pair” elicited the inquiry, “Are there two of them?”
It is a word used either in the singular or plural, and is a utensil for
blowing fire, either in a dwelling, or in forges and furnaces. It has
two handles and the opening and shutting of it inhales and exhales air
through a nozzle. It was an important convenience in making fires in
old-time fireplaces.
Another correction I wish to make is the expression “coarse rank grass,”
in speaking of haying prairie grass. Now the grass that was best for
fodder, was neither coarse nor rank; but this we had to learn. There is
a native grass that is close to the ground, sweet and juicy when
properly secured. I do not know whether it may not be a strong growth,
of what is called blue grass, after the prairie has been pastured. At
any rate, blue grass is the grass that appeared naturally upon the
constant grazing of the prairie. This succession of vegetation is
curious and interesting to observe.
I remember digging a well in this town once in the early spring, and
clay that came from twenty-five feet below the surface generated a
seedless plant of particular beauty. This, like all of nature’s
spontaneity is beyond the ken of man.
It was only a short time after I got here that I was appointed Justice
of the Peace by Gov. Lucas, then territorial governor. I came into town
to hold court, and any room we could get was used-frequently the office
of J. B. Taze and Dr. Taze. They were practicing lawyers, one being also
a doctor, and original in every particular. I don’t recall that he
practiced medicine. Upon one occasion, there was a case up that the
testimony showed very clearly that Taze would get his case; but he
taffied and flattered “his honor” (that was me) until it pretty nearly
turned my stomach; and I would not have given him the verdict had it not
been absolutely just. But I revenged myself by telling him that I was
fond of turkey, but objected to too much stuffing. This passed into a
long-standing joke among the lawyers, who were a little cautious of
taffy for me after that.
After a few years, by the act of legislature, the office of Justice was
made elective. I resigned, but was elected without opposition for many
successive years. While I was in California, in ‘49 and ‘50, Kilpatrick
had the office, and my docket; but upon my return, the community saw fit
to again place me in the position, which I held for about twenty-five
years in all.
Probably no class of incidents would show more clearly some
characteristic features of the early time than court scenes and
practices.
There was a considerable time before there was any jail here. When a man
was fined and could not pay, he was sentenced to a jail made of jailers;
that is, a guard was appointed to take care of him. When the boys got
tired of guarding, they would take their prisoner out into the prairie,
give him a good thrashing with a cow hide, according as they thought he
deserved it, and set him loose. He seldom showed up the second time. He
was quite likely to “go West.”
By the way, one of the curious things about the place for starting to
“go West,” was that it was at every advancing point on the line from New
England, until the place was reached where there was no more land to
preempt from the government. One heard more about “going West” here, in
this pioneer settlement at that time, than in Massachusetts; until now,
after sixty years of “settling up” the islands of the sea are about
being laid tributary to the spirit of emigration to places where cheap
homes, business openings, and personal advancement among men, seem
possible to the men with energy, but without money.
But to-day, the adventurous will find that wherever he may go in
civilized lands “capital” has preceded and preempted commercial
possibilities and stands prepared to dominate the labor of the
individual who has no money with which to compete or co-operate with
combines.
But, to come back from ‘99, it’s changed but not in all respects
improved conditions for emigrants, to the beginnings of this town and
country about it, I may say that the town was not incorporated until
1842. The first death was that of Presley Saunders first wife. At this
time, he set apart the plot of ground now known as the city or old
burying ground for the town, and this was the first burial in it.
It is claimed that a man by the name of Pullman, living near the
hospital, was the first, but Mrs. Saunders’ was the first formal
interment in ground set apart for public use in that way.
The first marriage was Presley Saunders to Miss Huldah Bowen, one of a
family of twelve children, of Isaac Bowen, who lived next neighbor to us
when we were on the farm, as before stated. There were ten daughters and
two sons in this family, two of whom are still living in this city, Mrs.
Huldah Saunders and Mrs. L. G. Palmer.
The first white settler was James Dawson in 1834, waking up the Hugh B.
Swan farm 1 ½ miles west of this town. The first grist mill was put up
by Zach Wilburn. Mrs. Mary McCoy, eldest daughter of Presley Saunders
was the first white child, and she was born in 1835.
The first postmaster was Alvin Saunders.
The first cabin was built by Joseph Moore.
The first doctors were Warren L. Jenkins and J. D. Payne.
As is usually the case in the settlement of this
country, the itinerant Methodist minister was the first minister. Among
those were Barton H. Cartwright, J.M. Jameson, Learner B. Stateler, John
H. Ruble, J. W. Dole, and an ever-recurring procession upon the
interlacing circuits. These circuits were often more than two hundred
miles in extent.
John H. Ruble married for his first wife one of the daughters of Isaac
Bowen, Diana, I believe. After a year or two he died, and was buried in
the cemetery at this place.
Mrs. L. G. Palmer tells how curiously the younger children of the Bowen
family looked upon a gentleman by the name of Stephenson, a physician
who in the year or two which followed, fell into the habit of driving
out to their place in a two wheeled cart. This was to them such an odd
arrangement, they could hardly tell how much this particular style stood
for professionally, as he was the first doctor they had ever seen. But
after a while they found he was interested in their sister, Diana, whom
he made his wife.
The first year we were here we had occasion to call Dr. Payne to see
Wealthy, who was extremely ill with climatic fever. It was then the
defects of puncheon floors and log cabins were emphasized. She was
extremely nervous and the rattling of the puncheons especially irritated
her. We could not step without their moving; so, we went to work and
evened them up with chips underneath. Climatic fevers, or fever and ague
intensified to unremitting fever, and fever and ague, or “the shakes,”
were the principal diseases known at the time. The idea prevailed
extensively that “a fellar can’t die with the ager,” and was a standard
belief; and probably helped save many a man from death.
Along in these early times a man by the name of Farris started up as a
Dr. He was uneducated in schools of medicine and surgery, and the
regulars looked down on him accordingly. But for all that, he had an
extensive and successful practice. He had some original prescriptions
for various diseases; one of them was for dysentery, and standard with
him. It was a vegetable soup, and made of cabbage, and all garden
vegetables at hand, boiled with a good big piece of salt fat pork; the
patient to eat and especially the drink of the liquor of this
concoction. Strange as it may seem, this specific for dysentery of old
Doc Farris’ is a sort of “hand me down” remedy in some families in this
county where other remedies fail, today. While I am talking about Drs.,
I may as well tell of a Thomsonian, or “Lobelia Dr.,” that came sometime
in the early forties. Someone in my hotel employed him, I know, and in
fact like many new notions, his method had quite a run. The chief
remedies were powerful sweating, lobelia emetics, and “number six”; a
concoction of red pepper and other hot stuff, to be taken as tea to
stimulate the sweating process. Our well was the only one for quite a
round, and after a while he sued for a big bill; we all claimed that he
tacked on to us a professional call every time he got a bucket of water
to sweat someone else with.
The Christian church was established, or preaching and belief, which
precedes both, was held as the true faith by Presley Saunders and his
sister and her husband, Arthur Miller. Church organization and connected
fellowship among churches, was not as general as the Methodist, and
regular membership and incorporation came latter. The Baptists were
organized in 1843; the Presbyterians in 1840.
The first school teacher was A. M. Daniels, J. P. Grantham following him
in 1837-1838.
Mrs. Tiffany always remembered a reply a lady gave her in response to
the question as to what was the difference between the Cumberland
Presbyterian and the Methodist religions. The answer was that “there was
more bodily exercise in the Methodist religion;” that was the greatest
difference.
Soon after the erection of the Court House, a young Methodist divine by
the name of Heustis, and his wife, came here from Vermont. He was
especially zealous and active in revival meetings, which were held in
the court room. Miller Snider, grandfather of George and Chestine, were
very earnest in their efforts to get me converted. If they could get
“Squire Tiffany” they were certain they would save a “brand from the
burning.” I remember promising them that after they had got everybody
else, I would go forward to the “mourners’ bench,” and give them a fair
trial at my soul. The time came when no more would go. I went forward as
I had promised, but did not experience that mystical change called
“getting religion.”
I will also add that the Methodists at this period of their history in
this locality, baptized by immersion; and as John Alsup recently put it,
“Big Creek is lined the whole length of it, with the scenes of former baptizings.”
The camp meeting was a marked feature of religious method
from the beginning, until into the seventies. Since then, there has been
great decadence in them. Civilization, with its big churches, did for
the open-air religious meeting what it did with many of the native and
distinctive features of the pioneer times; it simply effaced them.
The first man to say “college” to Mt. Pleasant was this man Huestis, of
whom we have just spoken. The project was first talked of as a college
for the locality; a start for a school which should grow up with the
country, and meet the local educational needs. The idea of a
denominational school was not mentioned; whether thought of, I know not.
I had a lot near the present Asbury church which I donated. Everything
was taken that could be sold, used or traded for material for the
building, which was pushed forward with vigor. It is still in fair
condition and is the one of the group of I. W. U. building now occupied
by the Conservatory of Music, by Dr. Rommel.
Heustis got up the building, lived in one the chambers, the east one,
and taught school in the west one, his wife assisting him in the winter
of ‘42. He traveled east on an expedition soliciting money. I gave him
letters of introduction to my brother at Hartford, Conn., through whom
he got more money than from all the other sources in Iowa put together.
He was a banker and a man of influence; and when he introduced the young
missionary to the Methodists around, it helped open all purses. His
interest in the matter was because the town contained the “sweet home”
of his brother.
In 1843, I returned to Maine and Mr. and Mrs. Heustis started with me;
going as far as Ohio by the same route our original party came out by;
stopping off in that state to solicit for the school. His wife and son
Wilbur continued their journey to Vermont under my care, as far as
Hartford; and from there on to Vermont alone, by stage coach. This son
is still living and a member of the California legislature. He visited
this town a few years since to view the scenes of his father’s early
labors and to see those still living that were associated with him. His
mother was living with him in that land of sunshine and flowers at the
time he was here. This is another instance of the extreme longevity of
women which endured hardships and privations such as would appall the
women of today.
This man Heustis engineered this college, which was chartered by Palmer
C. Tiffany, who was the first president of the board of trustees, John
P. Grantham, Ephriam Kilpatrick and others; and I think, that Miller
Snider and Nelson Lathrop were among the others. The given name of
Heustis was, Aristides Jackson; a good strong name which he lived well
up to. Whether or not there was a latent purpose with this man to work
public sentiment for the establishment of a college which should later
become a denominational school I cannot say. Whatever it was, the
probabilities are that it has been a much more stable and important
school, because it has been nurtured by a strong conference and large
local church, goes without the saying. Nothing short of state support
could have sufficiently maintained it otherwise, and it would have died
an early and easy death. I base this presumption on the fact that about
the time one of the most successful instructors of that or any other
time, Samuel L. Howe, located here and opened a school in a log house in
very primitive fashion; but the “divine afflatus” of the teacher
ordained by nature, choice and training made this school one that would
have outrivaled the college, had that school been left to the public
spirit of the community. Proper attention was given from the first to
the establishment of the public or common school. Howe’s met a popular
demand for “higher instruction; - and had not the college been gathered
into the fold of a demonstration zealous for an educated ministry, it
probably would have died a natural death. So soon as the extraordinary
qualities of Mr. Howe, as teacher, were discerned by those interested in
school matters, an effort to draw him into association with the college
was strongly and steadily made, but failed. His purpose was to establish
an individualized school for the development of individuality and
personal purpose in his students as well as the thorough training of
each, according to his special intellectual needs. The results of his
life-work in this direction, proved that his purpose was ordained of the
needs of the time, and for the long years in which his sons succeeded
him in its management, it met a popular demand in educational circles. A
few years since the original purpose of the college was brought forth,
if tardily, and the old school is now established in one of the main
buildings of I. W. U. where it enjoys all the privileges of the
university; united with, but not absorbed, it yet performs the functions
of a preparatory department to the institution.
The building which finally housed the originator and his school, was for
more than half a century and honored and honorable landmark in this
town; and many from far and near let fall sympathetic and reminiscent
tears, when it passed into “the shades” from whence it emanated.
The ground is now owned by one of Henry county’s most popular officials,
and rumor hath it, that a beautiful modern residence in the near future
is to be the successor of “The Old Mill,” on East Monroe Street.
How often are those observant of the coming and the passing of the
generations, and of their gifted and honored ones, and of their gifted
and honored ones, as well as the points made sacred by associations
vital to human welfare, called upon to see them effaced, pass on,
disintegrate, learning the meaning; the truth and the pathos of the
words, “And the places that knew them, shall Know them no more forever.”
If “Success in Life,” be measured by material acquisitions, by
intellectual attainments or the approval of men, then he who
contemplates a retrospect of ninety years and the passing of the
generations of its decades, will find himself pondering the potential
words, from whence, whither and why? And unless from within his own
consciousness comes knowledge of the “strait and narrow way” that leads
to “life and peace,” the philosophies of religionists, the pomps,
ambition and material splendors of mortal man, are simply “dust and
ashes;” shadows on the “sands of time.”
For several years after we came, there was only a weekly mail. It was
brought every Saturday on horseback, in saddlebags, from Burlington,
then the outpost of public travel; and this was the same public route by
the same slow and tedious trip in stages, by canals, lake and rivers
that we have already told of traveling by on our journeying out. The
development of the railroad in the east began to annihilate time and
accelerate the mail, a few days. It requires a vivid imagination to
apprehend these mail conditions, accustomed as the reader is to the idea
of the fast mail of less than twenty-four hours from the Atlantic coast;
the daily rural mail delivery for a large circuit of many miles around,
and means of safe and speedy public travel in all directions.
Postage on a letter was 25, 18, 12 ½ cents, according to the distance
carried. Envelopes were unknown. To fold a sheet of foolscap, which was
the kind largely used in writing letters was a triumph of mechanic art.
The introduction of envelopes and cheap postage, transformed the whole
postal service by increasing the volume of mail matter to be handled by
the department. For several years before the introduction of cheap
postage, it was a public service that was almost a gratuity to the
public to be postmaster.
It is interesting to note how certain things in the settlement of this
continent went hand in hand, and in the retrospect, seem so a part of
the great whole, that I cannot clearly trace their interdependence.
One thing strikes me as worthy of consideration however. State
governments as well as the National government have been responsible for
the building of many public canals, and for the removal of obstructions
in natural waterways used as means of public transit. Government and
state have also helped private capital to build R.R.’s. If all the
people through their representatives find it for their common good to do
that much, why could they not find it for the same common good of each
and all to operate them. The public builds its canals for itself and
then makes money renting them to individuals or companies.
This matter of the growth of the mail service, the fidelity of public
officials to the finest details of its requirements shows clearly what
all the people can do for each; and if I mistake not, stands an object
lesson for public ownership of common utilities in that point of time
when man shall realize the interdependence of all upon the welfare of
each. As I look back from this point of time as vantage ground and see
as in a vision, how commerce is promoted by sure, cheap and quick
communication, how in proportion to cheapness are common necessities
increased in volume of production; realize the indirect influence of the
common school upon those who are to run the machines which control the
commerce of the world, and furnish the ideas which are to guide the
democratic principle into conditions of permanence by the conservation
of the common welfare of men and nations, I can see something moving in
the world’s civilization which wipes out inferior races and establishes
the progressive conditions ordained of divine evolution.
Having witnessed the evolution of nearly a century of its growth, I can
but forecast the permanence of the American principle of securing the
good of all by mutual effort.
Institutions are greater than men. Men are merely the agents which are
used in the evolution of conditions for the common welfare. Politics are
petty, and futile, when the principle of freedom demands expression in
the affairs of men and nations.
It seemed that we young and vigorous men were making the town. Instead,
it was this wave of civilization that was making the conditions of our
fortunes. We merely stood and (sic) ser-fortunes. We merely stood and
(sic) serv-fashions and garnered our pecuniary reward.
Man is master of conditions only as he works harmony with the principle
of truth in service.
Resource provided by Henry County Heritage Trust;
transcription done by Alex Olson, University of Northern Iowa Public
History Field Experience Class, Fall 2022.
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