EARLY MEMORIES BY JOHN LEE ALLEN
(1835-1923)


		In the beginning of this narrative I will rehearse a story that I heard my father (William 1812-1893) tell which runs as follows:  "I was born in eastern Virginia and when a lad of about twelve years of age my father (James Allen 1772-1840) decided to move west.  He disposed of all his goods and chattels except some bed clothing and a few other necessary articles which he packed on a bay mare, then we started for southern Ohio.  My mother (Anna collier Allen 1794-1842) riding on the mare, father and I walking accompanied by a dog, and father carrying a gun.  We crossed the Allegheny and Sewell Mountains and stopped at Carnafaxes Ferry, Nickoles County, West Virginia for the winter.  Ours made the fourth family in that neighborhood at that time, and it was several miles to the next nearest neighborhood.  We all lived in common and passed the winter very pleasantly.  Bear and game of all kinds was plentiful and I had the honor of helping the men dig a bear out of his den.  When they killed a bear, it was divided into four parts, each family taking a quarter.  We remained at this place the following summer and raised a small crop which we disposed of, then proceeded on our journey down the Kanawha valley and crossed the Ohio River near the mouth of Big Sandy.  Finding a great many of the people, living along the river, shaking with ague, we moved on into the country, where it was said, it was healthier, and game was more plentiful.  Here we settled on the Middle Fork of Little Ice Creek in Perry Township, Lawrence County, Ohio."

Here the people built their log cabins on the public lands and began clearing out the forest, while their flocks and herds roamed in the woods.  Not far from this place the writer (John L. Allen 1835-1923) was born and to this place my memory often turns back and I will mention a few things that I saw and heard here during the 1830's and 1840's.

	Up to this time the people had made considerable progress but things were still in rather a primitive state.  They threshed their small grain with a flail or tramped it out by horses on the ground, and blew the chaff out with a sheath.  The farming implements consisted of the shovel, plow, mattock, a few hoes, scythe and cradle.  Hay was gathered with hand rakes, and forked sticks were used a pitch forks.  Then there was the flax break and scutcheon board and scutcheon knife, and a man who had a good light running sled felt pretty well-fixed.  And a gun was thought to be indispensable and a good dog was prized highly.

	There were few wagons in use along the river but a wagon in the country was rather a curiosity.  And when it was known that one was to pass that way the youngsters would gather at the roadside and follow it some distance in order to see its great wheels roll on the ground.  It has been said that we expected to see its big wheels catch up with the little ones but we think this was rather an exaggeration, although, if an up-to-date woman would have come spinning along on a bicycle at that time what would have happened would be hard to conjecture.

	The women made the most of the clothing of wool and flax, taking it through every process, from the raw material to the ready-made garment.  A smart woman was reckoned by the amount of work she would do and the man that was the best in a fistfight was rather looked up to.

	When a man went to see his neighbor on business, he would take his gun, while on the other hand the woman would hang her reticule on her arm and take her knitting in her hand and knit as fast walking as any way, only she would drop a stitch occasionally and would have to stop and pick it up.

	A good many people were rather superstitious.  Some believed in witchcraft and old people would sit and tell ghost and witch stories till the children were led to believe the woods were full of them.

	The passage of scripture "Spare the rod and spoil the child" was closely observed and many a lad strained his conscience to its utmost capacity to avoid a severe whipping for a trivial offense.

	Getting the milling done was quite an item of business.  A man who had a boy large enough to go to mill felt relieved of quite a responsibility.  And "You will soon have a mill boy" was a common remark.  Many a boy was put at that business rather young and encountered many mishaps.  Sometimes we had to go a long distance to the mill and it appeared that when blazing out the roads they never turned aside for a hill and in going up those hills the sacks of grain would slip back and we would have to turn the horse around with his head downhill and roll the sack back to its place.  The same tactic was used in going down hill, always changing the horses front to the rear.  We know of two boys who were returning from the mill.  We will call them Dick and Jim.  It was getting late in the day and they were trudging along at a pretty lively gait when Dick's horse stumbled and the sack being old and well worn rent in twain.  Each end containing a bushel of meal dropped to the ground.  This was a new problem in the milling business and they were puzzled for a time but each succeeded in getting a piece on the horse before him and the meal was delivered.

	As we were going to the mill one day we fell in company with a man who was taking his grist to the same mill.  I had taken several days before and he remarked that he would like to get his grinding in time to accompany me back.  It was a sawmill with burs attached and ground only on days when there was no sawing to do.  There was no system about the mill and it depended a great deal on one's strength and his ability to argue the case, who got his grinding done first.  As we were lacking in both, and our grist being in the bottom of the pile, we had to abide the consequences.  Late in the day, however, we found our grist and when I was in the act of pouring out my grain, this man snatched the half-bushel and put his own grist in the hopper and when it was ground started home.  I made a vow then and there that if I lived to be a man I would give that fellow a thrashing.  But the years passed by and every time I saw that man I thought of the incident at the mill though we were always sociable.  Meeting him in the road one day I told him of my vow and cited him of the incident.  It appeared that it had not made the impression on his mind that it had on mine and he did not remember it.  I told him that he need not plead innocence for I did not think a man could treat a boy that mean and forget it; though as he looked so insignificant and incapable of making any resistance, would let him pass for the time.  I often think of the unpaid vow.  But this part of our story is growing long and I will only add that the mill boys of those days had many ups and downs but the boy usually proved equal to the emergency.

	Our neighborhood was composed principally of three families - the Bruces, Allens, and Sperrys and their descendants.  The Bruces were all stone masons and they being in majority; it was generally known as the "Bruce Settlement".  Some of the Sperrys also worked in stone and there not being much of that kind of work to do in the country they had to go quite a distance from home to work.  The old log jail at Burlington having burned down, John Sperry superintended the building of the stone jail, which at that time was thought to be quite an undertaking.  Our nearest neighbor was William B. Morrison.  He was the Yankee persuasion, a cabinetmaker by trade and an all-around useful man in the neighborhood.  He made furniture and many other useful articles of wood.  He also officiated an undertaker and did the bleeding for the people.  Bleeding was practiced by the medical profession at that time and was usually the first step in medical treatment.  Between a pint and a quart of blood was the amount taken from the arm and quite often for very slight ailments.  By this service he gained the appellation as Dr. Morrison.  Mr. Morrison was of a literary mind and would read all the books he could get and I think he was they only man in the neighborhood who took a newspaper.  It was a small paper published in Portsmouth, Ohio.  Think it was called "The Portsmouth Times".  During the war with Mexico (1846-1848) this paper made him quite a bureau of information.  As a battalion of soldiers had gone out from Portsmouth among them being quite a number of the Lawrence County boys, including three or four from our own neighborhood.  People would come from quite a distance to have him read the war news and discuss the situation which he did with pleasure.

	Occasionally a tramp would pass through the country.  Though of a higher grade than we have at the present time, they were usually men of trade, with fair education and well clad, tramping westward with a bundle on their back supported by a stick across the shoulder, and were known as travelers.  A person who had traveled a few hundred miles was thought to be quite an adventurer and the people were anxious to hear them tell of their travels and the sights they had seen in the eastern cities.

	Old people who had become a public charge were sold at public sale to the lowest bidder; the bidder taking the amount of work he thought they were able to perform into consideration.

	A piece of ground laying near the Perry Town House and now known as part of the Denk farm, we have been informed was once owned by a man by the name of Collier, who laid it out in town lots and offered them for sale.  New Salem, we think was to be the name of the town.  And it was strongly hinted by its promoters that the county seat would be moved there.  It was said that on the day of the sale a barrel of whiskey was brought on to the ground and the head knocked out and cups placed so that all could drink at leisure.  The whiskey was consumed and several lots would be sold, but the town failed to appear.  Some time after this and on account of a series of neighborhood rows between its inhabitants and other factions, this place came to be known as Bunker hill and a man by the name of Blakenship who was in some way implicated in the affair gained the appellation as Black Hawk, which adhered to him through life and his is still remembered by that name by the old people in the vicinity.

	Religious services were held in private houses and in groves.  Ministers traveled long distances through the forest to meet their appointments.  About the time we speak of the labors of Rev. John Lee, the old pioneer Baptist minister, had come to a close.  He had traveled all through that part of the country, preached and blazed the way, set up the landmarks and gone to rest.  While others were entering on to the work.  Among them were Jesse Corn, Wm. Davison, James M. Kelley, Elias Webb, Elisha Mayhew, Sartin McCornas, and Daniel Winters.  Here a great deal could be said of the labors of these men but the writer knowing his inability to do them justice will only add that they carried on a great work, that the world has been made better by them having lived in it and all of them except one have long since gone to their reward.  "And their work do follow them."  Rev. James Kelley is still living near the scenes of his childhood at any honorable old age.  He has been in the ministry about sixty years.

	Vint Davis had moved on to the place now known as Dearing Post Office and among his goods and chattels was a cook stove.  This stove was the subject of many remarks and Mrs. Davis had many callers in order that they might get a peep at the stove.  And the subject was discussed in the neighborhood to considerable length.  Some thought they would have to take lessons before they could cook on it, while others said that the vitals cooked on it were not fit to eat but the general conclusion was that it was just calculated to burn up the house.  And it was several years after this before they changed their minds.

	At this place all the men of the township met to muster, as the law then we think required, every able bodied man between the ages of eighteen and forty-five, to perform two days military duty out of each year.  Wash. Alford beat the drum, John Melvin played the fife, and Henry Webb was captain of the host.  Capt. Webb as we remember made quite a military appearance.  He usually cocked his hat for the occasion, wore a gorgeous set of epaulets on his shoulders and a long sword hung at his side.  And he was looked upon by us boys as a hero.  The drum that Mr. Alford used then is still kept in the Alford family in a good state of preservation nearing its centennial year.

	At the forks of Little Ice Creek and near the side of the Getaway road, stood an old horse mill, whose days of usefulness had past and only served as a temporary shelter for stock.  It was apparently inhabited by millions of fleas with which the boys of the neighborhood had many a sad encounter.  This place I have been informed was also once the source of a tragedy in which two men by the name of Allen and Bruce were in a house nearby guarding a runaway slave that they had captured.  Bruce carelessly hung his gun and pouch on the rack over the door and the two men walked out in the yard leaving a dog that had been trained for the purpose lying on the steps to watch.  The Negro took a knife from its sheath on the pouch, seized the gun, gave the dog a death-stab as he went out at the door and fled.  The two men were following in close pursuit when the Negro turned and fired, killing Bruce with his own gun and making his escape.

	The people apparently were never in a rush with their work and could take a few days most any time to hunt game or geese or go to a shooting match.  Outside of their farm work they could get some work to do along the river and twenty-five cents per cord from chopping wood at Hecia furnace. 

	There was a good demand for boat bunnels and quite a business done in tanbark, hoop-poles and ginseng.  They who were still living on public land had begun to think of buying land for their own and were laying aside a little money for that purpose, while they who owned a little wanted to add more and it very often happened that two or more persons wanted the same piece of land which led to some very exciting races to the land offices at Chillicothe.

	Uncle John Bruce lived on the head of Lick Creek.  His house was above the average in the vicinity being built by hewn logs, had two doors and a stone chimney with a broad fireplace.  He also owned a horse that he called Jack, when he wanted to put on a backlog he hitched the horse to it and dragged it into the house and while he was rolling it to its place Jack would walk out at the opposite door.

	George Winters lived a little lower down the creek.  Mr. Winters told me that the owned the first far of iron manufactured in Lawrence County by the roller process.  He said, "They had been changing the old forge at Hanging Rock to a rolling mill and I had been working there and was there finishing some stone work when the mill started up.  The first iron finished was the proper size for harrow teeth and I procured it for that purpose."

	Still lower down the creek lived Charley Hatcher with his good wife Aunt Sally as she was commonly called.  I think Mr. Hatcher grew and manufactured the first sorghum known of in that part of the country, which was looked at then merely as a curiosity.  But which proved to be a godsend just in time to supply a place on the poor man's table in the north as well as some in the southern states during the Civil War that could not have been supplied from any other source, and now it is grown very extensively in the west as a forage crop.  And here an incident comes in line with this story in which mrs. Hatcher played a prominent part, that has been handed down by tradition and we think has been in print, that we will relate as we have heard it told.

	Mrs. Hatcher immigrated to Ohio with her parents - A Mr. and Mrs. Melvin, when a mere infant.  Coming down the Ohio River in a canoe, they landed at the narrows about Coal Grove, built a temporary shed and went into camp for the night.  During the night a panther sprang onto the bed and took the child.  The parents however succeeded in making it drop her some distance from the shack with but a slight harm.  Poags Negroes of Kentucky while hunting on that side of the river some days after killed the animal supposed to be the would-be assassin.  Some men living thereabouts called on Mr. Melvin and prevailed on him to stop there and they helped him to build a log cabin on the riverbank.  He was a cooper by trade and his mechanical eye soon caught on to the cedar timber growing on the bluffs near there and he at once began to saw the trees down and to work them into pails, churns and other vessels which were needed by the people.

	It must have been nearly a century since Mr. Melvin landed his canoe at this place.  Yet I am informed that the stumps of some of those cedars remain to this day.  And vessels can still be found in Perry Township to show the efficiency of his work.  He also made the drum we have before mentioned.

Steam boating on the Ohio had become quite a business, and there not being much law in regard to it, steamboat racing was quite often indulged in, and boats were being modeled with the view to excel in speed among the boats playing on the river at this time was the Condor.  As we remember this boat was of considerable capacity.  The coughing of her escape pipes could be heard at long distances.  And on account of her being superior to most other boats in propelling powers she was usually spoken of as "Old Condor".

	About this time a man by the name of Weaver was carrying on a small pottery on the river bank at the mouth of Lick Creek, and Bart Green kept a store opposite the mouth of the Big Sandy and Mr. Davidson who lived near there was running a steamboat.  We have forgotten the name of Uncle Billy's boat, neither can we say we say as to his success in the business but be that as it may it appears that he set an example for his boys, who later on became prominent river men and owned and operated a line of steamers on the Mississippi River.  Later on Mr. Davidson laid out the town of South Point, for which he entertained a bright hope for the future as a railroad center and shipping point.

	Daniel Brubaker had built and was operating a sawmill on the banks of Solida Creek below South Point.  He also built a steamboat which he christened the "Little Boon".  It appears that in selecting a model for this boat they hesitated between the patterns.  The difference being only a few feet in width.  With a view to speed, however, they chose the narrow pattern which proved to be rather a failure as she rocked by the revolution of her wheels.

	Meantime the slave question was being discussed.  Some people said slavery was right while others said it was wrong but modified their assertion by adding that it would not do to free them and turn them loose in the country as it would be disastrous to white labor, that they could not be controlled and would scatter over the country to plunder and steal.  While a few said it was utterly wrong and that they ought to be set free regardless of the consequences.  But their opinion was not popular and they found it best to keep their views to themselves.

	Some said that a Negro had no soul while others thought that he had and there was some discussion among church people along this line.  Once while we were listening to a conversation on this subject, a preacher remarked that Negroes were only monkeys with their tails cut off.

	The system known as the Underground Railroad was talked of, though of its working we know very little.  Shortly after the Civil War, while talking with a colored man who had formerly belonged to a Mr. Goeble of Kentucky, he told me that he had gone through to Canada on that line and that while en route he lay over in Ironton for a time with a prominent citizen of that town.

	Posses of runaway slaves were frequently crossing the Ohio River in attempting to make their way to Canada and they having very little knowledge of the country, would get bewildered in the forest and wander around only to be picked up by the inhabitants and taken back to get the money offered by their masters as a reward.

	I was only a lad and one day while in the field at work with my father, we saw three men coming down the lane with their guns and dogs and three slaves which had been captured.  As they came opposite we went out where they were.  They were men well known in the neighborhood.  They had the Negroes' hands tied behind them, then tied them together so that one could go behind the other at walking distance, and were taking them to the mouth of the Big Sandy to turn them over to their owners and get the reward.  They had been giving them whiskey and had them sign and dance for us.  They were very antic and made quite a performance, and as they passed on Father said, "Mark what I tell you.  The money those men get for those slaves will never do them any good."  I wondered why but so it turned out.  When they came to dividing the money the disagreed and went to law and it was said they spent the last penny.

	David Martin discovered a squad of runaway slaves in the woods near his farm one night and seeing, as he thought a chance for speculation, hastened to procure the assistance of Harrison Alford and some other neighbors and they slipped up and pounced upon them while they slept and succeeded in getting them tied with little difficulty.  But the slaves begged so piteously and told them how cruel their masters had treated the, that it touched the tender place in Mr. Martins' heart and they loosed them and let them go.  For this act they received many jeers from their neighbors and were censured as being chicken-hearted.

	This little episode appears to have wrought a wonderful change in Mr. Martins' mind in regard to slavery, as he always after was a radical abolitionist.  Some time after this a posse for slaves was reported as being in the neighborhood and party after party was searching for them in different directions.  But they had got farther into the country than was supposed and Isaiah Crawford living in Leatherwood Creek got them located and knowing the route they would probably take, he and his boys went at night and lay in wait at a bridge that crossed Symmes Creek above Getaway.  The Negroes came onto the bridge as expected and being armed with clubs they fought desperately and succeeded in making their escape for the time leaving the Crawfords pretty badly used up.  This created quite an excitement in the vicinity and the citizens in that part rallied to the hunt, and the Negroes being hard pressed and suffering from hunger went to the house of Daniel Markin in Aid Township.  Mrs. Markin set them vitals and after they had dined they surrendered themselves to her and she got the reward, which amounted to quite a sum of money.

	We will mention one other incident that is fresh in the minds of a good many people still living in Perry Township.  That of Payton Polly, a colored man who had been born in slavery.  He had purchased his and his wife's freedom and bought a piece of land on the head of Little Ice Creek.  They were industrious and a credit to their race, had built a comfortable home and had reared a family of several children till some of them were about grown, when one night a bunch of devils (I will have to call them that for I don't think their names have yet been known, and I don't know any more appropriate name for them) raided his premises, kidnapped their children, took them south and sold them into slavery and it was a long time before their parents knew where they were.  The wailing of this grief-stricken mother for her children is still fresh in our minds.  Some of them we think returned to the old homestead after the Civil War.

	Our nearest post office was Coal Grove.  Envelopes and stamps were not used.  The people wrote on one side of the sheet, using a quill pen, then folded the letter and sealed it with a wafer.  We paid cash for our mail as we took it from the office.  About the time we speak of I think the postage had been reduced to about twelve and one half cents for an ordinary letter.  Allen Strong kept the Post Office for quite a number of years.  We remember Mr. Strong as a man well informed, of rather a stern nature, very exact and prompt on business transactions.

	Daniel and Jesse Young were doing quite a business at this place.  They were mining coal near the top of the hill, which they ran down to the river by an incline.  They were also running a steam sawmill and carrying on a boat yard.

	Along about this time Dick Jones lived in a log house on the riverbank, on the Kentucky side near the present Ashland whaft and farmed the land there and kept the ferry.  Shade Ward had landed his storeboat on the Ohio side directly opposite and was selling dry goods and groceries.  It seems that Mr. Ward had struck his calling for it appeared that he had been born to sell goods and he soon built up a good trade which he kept for quite a number of years and later on came to be one of the leading merchants of Ironton.

	Meantime a company from New York commenced to build on the same site, which Monitor Furnace was afterwards built.  They did considerable work but the company failed and sold their stock to Hecia Furnace Company.  This leads us up to about the year forty-nine or fifty.  Prior to this time Burlington, Coal Grove and Hecia Furnace were the principal places the people had of disposing of their marketing, which they usually carried on horseback.  It did not require much to supply those places and the farmer's product was limited accordingly.

	We think it was in the year forty-nine in September that we made our first trip to Ironton where we had gone with a small lot of marketing, and their we found none but temporary buildings where the laborers ate and slept.  The ground was strewn with building materials and several buildings were in course of erection.  The walls of the Ironton House being pretty well up which was by considerable the largest structure we had ever seen.

	The railroad being constructed there was causing a great deal of talk in the country, as very few people had ever seen one.  We disposed of our stuff readily at a good price and as we were mounting our horse to return a gentleman standing by said, "Tell the people to bring in their produce - anything they had got to sell that we can eat and they can find ready sale at a good price", and from that time on the people of Lawrence County enjoyed the benefits of a good home market and began to get out of the old ruts.  Turned their attention to gardening, planting fruit trees, and straightening up their farms.  Began to lay aside their former prejudices and were buying the little Ironton Premium cook stove and things began to move at a more rapid pace.









	This is the end of our story, while we have written only from memory and have not been able to give dates, yet we think the incidents that we have mentioned will be found to be true and we lay our pen on the rack for a more competent historian.

July 4, 1900			John L. Allen
				Parkerville, Kansas