Crawford County |
Transcribed by Barbara Dix |
HUTSONVILLE DURING THE WAR DAYS - Hon. H. C. Bell gives Remisniscence of Stirring Times
Next to Old York, on the banks of the Wabash, the village of Hutsonville, Crawford County, has always possessed peculiar interest and has been surrounded with the most tender memories to me of any spot on earth. It is here I used to "foot it" on many Saturday afternoons to visit for the family of my uncle, dear old Noah Evans, whom none knew but to love, and to play with Clint Evans, his son. Noah Evans' first wife was Martha Bell, the sister of my father, Wiley Bell. She died when Clint and Mary were quite young, and after her death my uncle Noah married Sarah Jeffers. Both Noah and Sarah have been dead a number of years. Mary Evans has also been dead for more than forty years. Clint is still alive, or was when I last heard about him, and was then living near St. Louis, Mo.
It was also the town of Hutsonville I used to often visit in the early days of our Civil War, and often during the years that followed. Hutsonville was intensely loyal at the beginning, as well as all through the war, though it was not without the Copperhead element to make things intensely interesting on occasion: and as it, in those days was never without the open saloon, and a goodly number of them, one could see more fights and rows and roughhouses in Hutsonville in an hour any Saturday afternoon, than he could see in all Crawford County in a week. With Jack Plough, Bill Sutherland, the Mackey boys, Bill Ayers, Tom Claypool, the Green boys, Ike Mullady, Hughes, Big John Wise, and others, generally to be courted among the loyal boys, as they were called, in that far away time on the banks of the Wabash so far away.
It was indeed a dull Saturday from the spring of 1861 to along in 1866 when one could not get to see at least two or three good fights, occasionally a shooting scrape or two, by simply 'hanging around" Hutsonville, as, with the exception of the year I was myself in the Federal army, I often did so. I saw Jack Plough, Bill Sutherland, Ike Mullady, Tom Claypool, Bill and Charlie Green, in more than one hot battle during those five strenuous years in the life of Hutsonville. And also I saw John Wise and others of the fighting machines of Hutsonville during those red hot days on the banks of the Wabash.
I was in Hutsonville the day that Bill Adams killed Tom Bostick, on the grade south of town, and when he was given a preliminary hearing before James W. Wilhite, my wife's father, for the crime. Hon. E. Callahan and Jim Barlow, as I now remember, were in the case, and of course on opposite sides, for I never remember of seeing these two Hutsonville luminaries on the same side of any case. Of course, Callahan was a fine lawyer, even then and Barlow was not much of a lawyer, but what he lacked in legal knowledge he made up, at least before justice of the peace, in cuning, courage, and bull dog courage, moral, as well as physical and Callahan, then, as always from the beginning of the Civil War until recent years, the leading lawyer of Crawford county, rarely got any the best of Jim Barlow before a justice of the peace. In the preliminary hearings and the little cases which usually, in those days came before that judicial luminary of the township and county. You see Jim knew tricks and was willing to get down on them, which Callahan was loth to practice, and could not turn the sharp tricks which Jim Barlow could and would turn in a case whenever it suited his purpose, or the interest of his client to turn or work upon court or jury. And then, too, Jim was dead game, and he would fight at the drop of of the hat, and which Callahan, not being a fight man, well knew, having bumped up against James on several occasions during thier J.P. practice, and he usually let Jim have things pretty much his own way, relying for his final success, and which he usually in the end attained upon the higher court of the county on appeal.
About the bravest man in all Hutsonville, and who was not a quarrelsome man, but whom all got out of the way when he went on the war path, was Jack Plough. He could make Bill Sutherland, Ike Mullady, Hughes, Charlie Green or any of the tough kids climb a tree when he went gunning for them either with a shot gun or pistol or a club. Ah, the many glorious fights which I and my cousin Clint Evans, have enjoyed in Hutsonville.
Hutsonville was not only intensely loyal, but what amounted to much the same thing in those days, but intensely and overwhelmingly Republican in politics, as I am sorry to say it still is, and it was about all a poor little democrat could do to live in Hutsonville, much less cut much ice there. Uncle Jack Hurst, and a few very few, others managed to get along without much trouble with the rampant loyal contingent of the village. But it took more tact and discretion than Geneal Grant ever displayed to do it. Even for some years after the Civil War, and even to this day, I doubt if there is a hotter Republican spot in Illinois, according to its population than Hutsonville. Any small town in which my friend Milt Rackerby, Dr. Eaton, the Musgrave boys, and others whom I might mention, and whom I have counted among my personal friends for many years reside, will soon let it be known and never forgottten that the party of Abraham Lincoln, Hayes, Harrison, McKinley, Taft, and Roosevelt rules the roost. But when the war with Germany comes I would bet my last dollar that Hutsonville now, as in the days of the Civil War, will be for the government to the man, even if it is presided over by a Democratic President, for they know, as all Democrats of the North should have known during our war with the Southland, that in times of war with any foe to the government, we should know no party, no partisanship, until it is fought out to victory, and especially so when that foe, as in this case is going to be, will be a foeign foe, and one which in endeavoring to fasten military despotism upon the whole world, the United States included.
HUTSONVILLE IN EARLY DAYS A.J. HASKETT OF ROBINSON WRITES FOR THE CONSTITUTION
A.J. Haskett of Robinson writes as follows of early conditions in and near Hutsonville, which we republish from the COSTITUTUION: I was raised about one and one-fourth miles above Hutsonville, on the state road. In early times there were mile stones every mile on the road. I think the road was laid out by the state. It ran from Vincennes to Danville, and possible a greater distance north.
Hutsonville was my first town to see and also the first school I attended was there. I lived on the road north of Hutsonville in a house on the west side of the road near Quaker Lane. My first teacher was Miss Richardson. I also went to the following teachers; Miss Payne, Miss Vance, John Wilhite and Wm. P. Musgrave. I went one term to the Mount Joy School west of Hutsonville, near to Wm. Lindleys house, who has been dead many years. The first school house in Hutsonville was built by donations and labor. My father helped to construct this school building. This was before the time of free schools in Ilinois. Twenty cents per scholar per week was the amount paid for instruction. Although I went to free school one or two terms.
Hutsonville was a good trading point. Merchandise of all kinds was shipped there by steam boat; and then distributed by wagons to the country for many miles around. Hutsonville at one time made quite a start in manufacturing interests. A pottery was located near the old cemetery, where all kinds of crockery was made, including a large number of jugs. There was also a carding machine west of town, which was the property of Nichols Fesler . It did an extensive business. Nearly all farmers then raised sheep. In the spring the wool was clipped, and taken to the carding machine, and made into rolls. And at home it was made into cloth for the use of the family. At one time there was a furniture manufactory in Hutsonville; and it did a good business in manufacturing staple furniture. There was also a large cooperage shop which did a good business supplying Hutsonville, and the towns nearby, as well as shipping cooperage to Vincennes and Terre Haute. It was under the management of Jacob Grow. Northwest of Hutsonville there was a hay press, and also hay sheds, where hay was pressed . It was then hauled to the river and shipped south by flat boats to southern cities. The press, I think , was the property of Lindleys. A large amount of business was done on the Wabash at that time. In the spring of the year flat boats were hardly ever out of sight.. I have seen three or four steam boats at Hutsonville at one time, loading and unloading. I have also seen there, steam boats loaded for New Orleans . The milling business was neglected there for a long time. We went to an ox mill west of Hutsonville some four miles; and also to one near Porterville, but there was no town there at that time. The mill was run by Jos. Starr. Later on a stream mill was built on Hutson Creek. I do not know whether or not it was combined with water. It did not run long until the boiler exploded and made a complete wreck of the building. In the explosion, according to the best of my recollection, two men were killed. Hutsonville was a good market for all kinds of farm products. It was also the second largest pork packing center west of Cincinnati.
A large amount of corn was shipped from Hutsonville by flat boats as well as by steam boats. The country around Hutsonville was very rich, producing all kinds of crops. Flax was a crop the farmers could hardly do without. It was made into sewing, woven into cloth for linen pants, straw ticks, towels and possiby other articles.
In the fall of the year a very large growth of vegetation went to decay, there not being enough stock running at large to consume it. The air was full of malaria from decaying vegetables. Consequently a large amount of whishey was used, as it was considered an antidote for malaria. Then nearly everyone used whiskey. Our home was seldom without whiskey. Mother would make it into bitters. For instance she would use boneset, cherry bark, burdock roots and other articles that were bad to the taste.
Many of my school mates have passed away or passed from my memory. I will mention two. During school we had the first class stand up to spell, just before being dismissed for noon, and evening. I was nearly always third in the class. Mary Cox and Fanny Harness were always first or second. I tried to get head marks, but nearly always failed. I sometimes thought they would miss a word so that I might spell it, but there were very few head marks I received. Miss Mary Cox died when a very young girl in her teens.
Many years ago, in an early day, there was a tough element, although there were many good and enterprising citizens as well as many good religious people. On an election day many years ago a man was killed. He was intoxicated. It was proven at the trial that the killing was in self defense. In the north part of town a man hung himself to his bed post. His wife was in the same room and claimed that she was asleep and knew nothing of it. But by some, her statement was disputed.
Whiskey was sold in Hutsonville without any restrictions and at a very low price--25cents to 30 cents per gallon.
I remember a gentleman came to Hutsonville from the south. He was of Irish descent. I think his business was to buy corn. Made his home at hotel but in a short time he set the day he would die;and also the hour. He made all arrangements for his funeral, had his grave dug, man hired to haul his body to the grave and all expenses paid. He died about the time he said that he would and his arrangments were properly carried out. He was buried above the town near the sand hill. Another incident so impressed me, I will relate it. Dr. Kelley lived about one mile north of town on what was known as the Swain farm or I think now, the Golden land or farm with a two story log house. I lived with him quite a while working in garden, helping his wife with her work in the house. At different times there would be negroes appear on the farm . They would be in destitute for clothing. Feet wrapped in rags. Dr. Kelley would doctor them. Their feet were worn out and they could hardly walk. They would travel by night and conceal themselves during the day and after good treatment and supplied with clothing they would disappear. Dr. Kelley would disappear at the same time; would be gone for two weeks or more. At the time I gave it no thought. After some years I learned it was an underground railroad station. Those negroes were slaves and on their way to Canada, a free country. It has been many years ago, I was a mere boy, but I have always had sympathy for the colored people. Hutsonville is a dear old town to me. It was laid out in 1832.
The writer is nearly seventy-five years old.
HUTSONVILLE DURING WAR DAYS Hon. H. C. Bell Gives Further Reminiscense of Days of Long Ago
webmaster's note: This is a different article than the one at the top of this page.
And still the ancient village of Hutsonville, on the banks of the Wabash far away, lingers in heart and brain, and not pass from my mental ken { vision} away. How the ever lively, shifting, exciting, entrancing scenes of that dear old town, as I saw them in the long ago, come crowding on heart, and brain, and mind and soul today, after all the intervening years. How the remembrance of the gay, excited, rushing, strenuous crowds of Hutsonville, in those far off days rush upon me now. How lifelike appear the busy store keepers, the rushing eating house keepers, the noisy wharf, as the boats came and went, how the songs of the negro boat hands ring in my ears, as they loaded the corn and the wheat, and the pork and the lard for the markets of the country. How the wild, roystering saloon crowds, as they sang and talked, and quarreled and fought, break on mind and brain as my mind runs back to Hutsonville, in those strenuous days of our great Civil War. The faces and forms of Bill Sutherland, Ike Mullady, Little Watts, Tom Claypool, Charlie Green, Bill Green, Hughes, Big John Wise, the Mackey boys, Bill Ayers, the Davis twins, Ira Drake, Catlin Preston, George Preston, Joe Voke, Joe Petri, Andy Cox, Uncle Jack Hurst. Some of the former adding constantly to the gayety of the town's, by keeping things eternally "het-up," while the latter were ever trying to keep the peace and prevent the towns going permanently mad with the spirit of the War and the juice of the corn. Ah, those were the strenuous days on the banks of the Wabash river, far away.
All these things are ancient history, or are not known at all by practically all the inhabitants of Hutsonville and vicinity today; but there are men in Hutsonville, even yet, and many in Crawford and the southern parts of Clark county, who have not forgotten them, and which scenes and incidents will linger in heart and mind and brain until death comes. And those who did not live through those scenes, as did the typist, are on the threshold of other incidents and scenes, new, exciting and strange, which are upon us. when men will have their minds constantly racked and their hearts constantly torn, and their souls constantly strung up to the hightest pitch of loyalty and love of country, by incidents, sights, and experiences which they have never known before, and which, while life lasts, will linger in heart and brain, as the incidents and scenes I have sketched of the long ago linger in heart and brain of those, who like the typist, and many more in Hutsonville and Crawford County who have seen and heard what I have seen and heard.
As I now remember it. Uncle Jack Hurts(Hurst?), Uncle Byant Cox, the Harness boys, the elder Lindleys, Newlins, the Atheys, Reynolds family, one branch of it at least, Burner, Prestons and a few other individuals and families constituted about all there was of a Democratic party in Hutsonville and Hutsonville township, during our Civil War. But there were enough Democrats, though generally of the loyal kind, in Hutsonville, which, when added to the Sullivan County, Ind., contingent, which came often to Hutsonville to get their drinks, play cards and fight, to keep the Republican boys constantly sitting up and taking notice. And to make Hutsonville, every day in the week and especially on Saturdays, the warmest baby of a village on the Wabash river from Terre Haute to Vincennes. Time and again during the Civil War, it was given out the the "Copperheads" of Sullivan County, Ind., as they were called, were coming over to Hutsonville to slaughter its people and burn the town and more than one night during those troublesome times, the men of Hutsonville, with loaded guns, guarded the Illinois bank of the Wabash, waiting to give a warm reception to the "Copperheads" of Sullivan county, who were expected to cross the river and storm the town.
Usually, when things were normal and quiet in Hutsonville, the Democrats were allowed to repose in peace, but when a lot of the "boys in blue" happened to be home on furloughs, and when they were spending their bright new "shinplasters" in having a good time in the usual way of those days, Democrats, and those who were not in sympathy with the doing of "Uncle Abe", kept in the background, and did not run amuch with the antagonistic sentiments among the "boys in blue" who swarmed the streets and saloons and eating rooms of the village. Captain Markley, who fell at Belmont, Captain Guy Alexander, Capt. Langston and other well known Hutsonville soldiers, privates, as well as officers, were held in high esteem by all loyal citizens of Hutsonville, and war rallies, big dinners, and dances, given in honor of soldiers home on furloughs, and in honor of others just entering the service, were numerous in Hutsonville in those days and the praises of loyal men and the smiles of beautiful women and girls, encouraged men to enlist in the service of their country, welcomed them home on their furloughs, and cheered their departure to the front again when they went away.
Big speakings, and loyal rallies were frequent, and eloquent speakers frequently, came to Hutsonville to talk of the war, and to encourage enlistments for the front. It is doubtful if anywhere in America could two more unanimously loyal towns be found that Hutsonville, Crawford County, and York, Clark Ccounty, Illinois. If anything, York was just as true to the cause of the union as Hutsonville, but the fighting blood did not crop out at York to the marked degree it did at Hutsonville, and so there were not so many nor so violently hot times in the old town of York as there were at Hutsonville. Since that time, Hutsonville has increased in population and extent, though it does not seem so to me, but York has almost passed into a state of absolute inocuous destitude, and had dwindled from perhaps nearly 800 people to not more that three hundred. If indeed, so many even as that remain.
While York was a good little town during the war, yet it was not so good a business place during those strenuous days as was Hutsonville, and, of course, the railroad having missed it, it can no longer be mentioned in importance with its ancient rival, along with Darwin, ten miles north of York, which was also a very good little business point before, during, and for a few years after the Civil War. Hutsonville, when the Kinneys and Adamses, run the hotels, Prestons, Bill Draper, Jack Hurst, the Harnesses, the Ploughs, the Canadays, the Davises and the Parkers run the business instutions of the town, and when the river front was graced by a splendid harbor, and boats from the Ohio and the Mississippi were constantly coming and going, was a fine little town, and a splinded business place in a small way, as it is now, and always has been. I have always loved Hutsonville. It was here and at York I played as a boy. It was at Hutsonville I taught my third school, the first along with Sam Bennet, the second with my cousin and dearest boyhood friend and relative:P. G. Bradbury; and it was in Hutsonville, as before said, that I found my wife, in the person of Stella Wilhite, the daughter of James and Nancy Wilhite, and it was here also that Sam Bennett, found his life companion,in the person of Mattie Draper. Both of whom went to school to Sam and I, and, as intimated in my former letter, my part in this dual transaction, alone, would make it imperative, that dear old Hutsonville should linger in my heart and brain and soul untill the great transition comes to me.
And then, too, think of the good friends like Dr. Eaton, Milt Rackerby, Will Hurst, Allen and Steve Newlin, Clint Newlin, one of my namesakes, Lawrence Newlin, Dr. Cullop, Will Holiday, Jack and Jimmy Lindley, Mart Newlin, Dr. Ryerson, John Thomas, the Draper boys, the Holdermans, boys and girls, Warren Martin, John Shore, Minnie Hurst, the widow of dear old Lush Hurst, Ella Hurst, both the latter pupils of mine during my pedagogic days, Mrs. Rogers, and many more I might mention, whom I knew in the long ago, and whom I have known long and well, and whose faces crowding around me now, along with many more whose faces are no longer seen among the living, but who have crossed the Great Divide.
Ah, how I remember the many happy hours I have spent at dear old Hutsonville. How well I remember when Sam Bennett and I opened our first school there, and when my cousin, P.G. Bradbury, whom I could never get enough of in boyhood days, and in the days of our early manhood before manhood's duties separated us, also opened our fall term of school there. How well I remember Andy Cox, his wife, C. Cox , Mrs. Holderman, with whom I boarded when we taught at Hutsonville, old Uncle Jack Hurst, W. P. Draper who was always a good friend of mine, and who gave me much good advice; and how sweetly there lingers in in soul and brain the remembrance of the time when I first saw my mate, in the form of a fifteen year old school girl, and about the same time that Sam Bennett saw his in an fifteen year old school girl; and how there still linger in heart, brain and soul, the best scene of all and which makes Hutsonville peculiarly dear to me that in which the Methodist Episopal church at Hutsonville, in the presence of the whole people of the town, on July 22, 1875, I was so fortunate as to lead to the marriage altar she, who, in my mind and eye, at least, was Hutsonville's fairest daughter. Do you wonder that I love Hutsonville, along with Old York, as to me at least, the two most interesting and never to be forgotten spots on all this big round earth today, as at the age of 68 years, my mind runs over and jots down the milestones which are set there? The place of our birth, the place of our marriage, and the place of our transition, are indeed the three most interesting and tender, or should be in all our journey, be it long or short, from the cradle to the grave.
H.C.Bell
James Ormiston, who formerly lived near West York and for almost two years had visited in California, returned from there last week. He attended the "Old Settlers" meeting here Thursday. Mr. Ormiston is still using a crutch as a result of a broken leg received in Los Angeles in January, 1914, by being struck by an automobile.