Reminiscences, sporting and otherwise, of early days in Rockford, Ill.

Front matter

Class.

Book_

REMINISCENCES,

Chapter II

First Lawyer, his "Wife and her Slave— The Millers— Washington House— First Frame Dwelling occupied by a Family— First Frame Dwelling in the County —Thomas Lake— Claim Fight— '' Let's go and get a Drink"— Reminiscences of Thomas Lake — He Sails from England in 1832— Arrives at Cleveland — Pioneer Life in Ohio — Illinois Fever — Arrives at Chicago— Chicago in 1835— Ducks and Mud— Doctor Goodhue— Difficult to Secure Transportation— Starts for Rockford— In sight of Newberg— The Kishwaukee Impassable— Takes possession of an Empty Log Cabin— Stays there Two Weeks— Nearly Drowned in the Kishwaukee— Arrives at Rockford.

John C. Kemble, of our party, was the first lawyer in Rockford. He was a man of ability and had been a member of the New York State Legislature from Rensselaer county. He became insane, and in 1840 was taken to an eastern asylum, where he died soon after. His wife was a member of one of the old Dutch families of New York ; as was the custom of that day and time, when she was born, a young- slave belonging to the family was designated as her servant, whose special duty it should be to look after her personal welfare and comfort while he lived. This duty "Black Ike" (Isaac Wilson) fulfilled to the extent of his ability. Mrs. Kemble followed her husband to Rockford in the fall of 1837, and the following year " Black Ike," true to the devotion, traditions and customs of his r-ace to the family of whom they were slaves, came to Rockford and resumed his duties as her servant.

The Kembles had two sons, both possessed of more than average ability. Albert, the eldest, became a painter and went to Italy to prosecute his studies ; was married and died there. Edward had literary tastes and abilities of a high order. He edited and published a boy's newspaper in 1840, from the office of the Rockford Star, called Tlie Comet. For the last forty-two years I had preserved the only copy of this paper known to be in existence, but when I came to look for it recently it was gone, cribbed, stolen. May perdition seize the thief ! Edwai'd went around the Horn to California with a printing outfit, and established the first English newspaper in San Francisco, 2%e California Star, before that name was applied to the town. He was there when gold was first discovered in the state. During the late unpleasantness, he was a paymaster in the United States army. He died in New York City about four years ago, having for some

14 EARLY DAYS IN ROCKPORD.

yeai'S pi-evious served as news agent foi" the California Press AssO' ciation.

Jacob B. Miller, ("Old Jake") the second lawyer to locate in Rockford, was a most eloquent speaker, and in great demand by the whigs of this locality during the coon-skin and hard cider campaign of 1840. The Millers arrived about the middle of May, 1837, and were prominent in the affairs of the town while they remained. They built the Washington House in 1838. on the east end of the lot on the southeast corner of State and Madison streets. The father, John Miller, with a second wife and three grown sons, Jacob B., Thomas and George. Another son, Alexander, was here in the summer of 1838. The Millers arrived earlier than they were expected. They had an arrangement with Haight by which he was to vacate his log house for their use. Haight had a force of carpenters at work upon his dwelling house on the corner of State and Madison streets, who were set at erecting a small frame dwelling house on lot 9, block 16, and which he occupied as soon as it was inclosed. This was the first frame building occupied by a family in Rockford. The Millers had a small stock of merchandise which they opened in the carriage house attached to Haight's dwelling. They had two " prairie schooners'" with ox teams that were kept at work all the summer hauling mei-- chandise from Chicago and Savannah. Some years ago Mr. James B. Martyn, an Englishman, who came here from Huntsville, Ala., in 1836, at the solicitation of Germanicus Kent, told me he erected the first frame dwelling in 1836 in this county, on his claim on the State road, one mile east of the intersection of State and Kishwaukee streets.

Mr. John Lake, of this city, has kindly consented to the publication of the following document found among the papers of his deceased uncle, Thomas Lake, who came to Rockford in 1835. It does indeed give a most graphic account of the trials and hardships encountered by the pioneers of early days in Rockford, and in several instances confirms my own recollections, which were written before I knew of the existence of the paper. I, too, can confirm incidents therein mentioned, as I knew of the buckwheat being sown in the standing corn. I was present at the claim fight he describes, which came off some two miles northeast of the town, where Mr. Brown defended his castle, and saw the rifle barrel protruded between the logs. My father had given me strict orders to sit in the wagon right there where he left me, and hold Rob and Tanner, but the opportunity to see a fight with guns was too much for my boyish nature, and I hitched the team to a convenient sapling and stole up Indian fashion, from tree to tree, to the scene of the expected battle. Early one beautiful morning in August twenty-three ago, I was at Charles City, Iowa, and stepping out on the sidewalk, the first person I met was

"Jake" Waller, the pioneer who located on what i« now part of the poor farm. "Jake," said I, as I shook his hand, "How do you do ?" He looked at me long and earnestly, but memory gave him no recollection of the boy and the claim light. "■ I don't know you." " Well, Jake, the first time I saw you, we were each behind a big tree as a

breastwork to stop a stray bullet." " You are John Thurston, by ,

lefs go and get a drink."

It will be noticed that Mr. Lake's reminiscences close quite abruptly, and I am inclined to think from a conversation I had with him some years ago, when I told him I had prepared a paper of the history of my family and my early life in Rockford, for the perusal of my children, that he had the same object in view.

REMINISCENCES.

Thomas Lake was born on the fourth day of July, 1806, at Blackford, in the parish of Selworth, county of Somerset, England, of parents named William and Elizabeth Lake. His father was a farmer, carrying on the milling business in connection therewith. The Lake homestead belonged to the estate of Sir T. D. Ackland.

His chief occupation, up to the time of his father's death, soon after which he sailed for the United States, was farming. Prior to this time he was married to Miss Lavina Atkins, daughter of Mr. John Atkins, a farmer living at Whitcomb, parish of Minehead ; his mother was still living.

I sailed from Bristol in May, 1832, on board the bark Charlotte ; the voyage was a tedious one of seven weeks and three days. We landed in New York at the breaking out of the cholera. There had been forty deaths on board a French vessel that spoke us at sea.

I had letters of introduction to parties m New York, but the city was terror stricken, and business at a standstill, and no hope of employment. We were advised to go on west ; after remaining in New York a few days we concluded to do so. Arrived at Troy, I soon found employment, but this lasted only a short time, as thousands had left, and were daily leaving, on account of the cholera, which had already reached the city, and was rapidly spreading. There was nothing doing, and it would not do for us to be idle.

We had one child, born to us before we left England, Robert W. We concluded to go to Buffalo by canal ; the trip occupied about two weeks. There was another family accompanying us — man, wife and one child. On our arrival at Buffalo, the first thing was to look for some respectable tavern to stop at ; this we failed to find. Having come from Troy and New York, no one would take us in, where we could think ourselves safe until morning. Our families still r-emained on the boat. After looking around till tired out, and finding no hopes of qua,rters that looked safe, wo concluded to go on to Cleveland. Having made up our minds, we took passage on a schooner ; the weather was very rough, but the wind being in our favor, we made a quick voyage.

When within signaling distance, a flag was run up at the fort, ordering us to drop anchor. After continuing on our course for some distance further, a second flag was run up. The captain took the hint and dropped the anchor. We soon saw a boat put out from the harbor and make for the schooner. By this time the wind had abated enough to allow the boat to put alongside. Three gentlemen jumped aboard — doctors. We passed through a strict examination as to where we were from, where we had stopi:)ed by the way, whether the cholera had broken out at New York and Troy before we left, and where we were bound for. These questions were answered by the captain, and we tried to look our very best, having been warned as to the expected object of the visit. While the doctors were holding a council, the captain informed us that he probably would have to take us back to Buffalo, without landing his cargo.

I was standing alone, looking over the bow, when one of the doctors approached me with the question, "Will you tell me your wife's name before she was married?" I told him. "Had she a brother named Tom?" "Yes." "Was he educated at Oxford V" "Tom," he said, "was my school and room-mate, but he took to law and I to physic." After a few minutes talk alone with his associates, we were allowed to land ; but people were afraid of us. We took the best quarters we could procure, and the bedbugs would have finished us had we not gotten up and dressed. We went out early to see to unloading our things, not knowing what to do or where to go — dismayed and disheartened at our sad lot. A farmer passing by, seeing our luggage piled up on the ^harf, enquired where we were bound. He advised us to go into the country, where he lived ; told us there was no hope for us where we were but to spend what we had.

So we started for Strongsville, a distance of fifteen miles. With much difficulty we rented part of a house occupied and owned by Moses Pomroy, a carpenter and joiner. I commenced mowing and haying for a man named Strong, who had been living here about twenty-five years, and had a large farm cleared off', and some good orchards. The heat, to me, was intolerable. I felt as though I should drop at my work, but I stuck it out as best I could till ha^'ing was over.

My next job was harvesting for a new man, on a ten acre lot, cleared off' in the middle of the woods ; heavy timber of a tremendously tall growth all around us. It came on from hot to hotter ; I suffered dreadfully. I was binding after my employer ; he was a powerful man, and had informed me that it was impossible for one man to keep up in binding after his cradle. I had striven hard to keep up, but the heat was too much ; I dropped senseless to the ground. My employer at last saw me, and ran and picked me up, carrying- me into the shade of a large tree ; he administered some restoratives for sunstroke, and after awhile, he said, I began to kick ; but I was very ill, being scarcely able to stand. His neighbors blamed him very much, as it had nearly cost me my life. I was both sick and weak for a long time, but continued to work, as it was necessary I should do what I could, as I had found that seventy-five cents a day did not bring in money very fast, and left almost nothing, after paying house rent, and buying fuel and provisions.

After harvest there was but little work in view. We were often asked to buy a farm. We found a great many wished to sell, as is the case in all new countries, and old, too, wherever I have been. We were well dressed — far different from our neighbors — and our clothes were scrutinized closely. People in this country dress very differently now to what they did in 1832. It was generally the rule then for people to live within their means. A farmer owning two or three hundred acres could be seen, of a Sabbath, with his wife behind him on horseback, riding off to meeting, with a child or two before him, if they were not old enough to walk the distance. Well, as we were well dressed, it was thought we must have lots of money ; as it was always thought people coming from England had. Friends flocked around us ; some wished to sell, some wanted to borrow. We never tried to convince any one whether we had much or little. "Did not know but that we should return in the spring," was our reply. This was as far down in the mystery as they were allowed to get ; in truth, we had but little money. Our neighbors were very kind, as I believe is generally the case where the land is in the market.

About this time, winter began to look me sternly in the face. I was convinced that I could not clear heavy timber land at ten dollars per acre, which was the price then paid.

One Sunday, after meeting, I was returning with Mr. Pomroy. He was extolling the advantages of a good trade. He replied, "■ What will you give me to show you what I know, seeing you think so much of a trade?" "Me to give you," I said, "is out of the question; pray what will you give me at the bench for the next six months? " "Ten dollars per month," he replied; "but you will have to board youi'self, pay me rent, find your own lire-wood, etc." "When shall I begin?" "To-morrow morning, if you wish."

In the morning, at sunrise, the shop was all cleaned out, and I waiting for orders. I was put to jacking down some boards to a thickness — not an easy task for a new beginner, but I got along pretty well, he said. A few days after he had a lot of window sash to make. I was to rip out the stuff and dress it up ; he would put them together, he told me, and left after giving directions. I have seen sash stuff much better dressed, and I have seen much better sash, but they passed. There was always much doubt in my mind whether the stuff was not much better suited for kindling.

So we dodged along into winter. I soon found that the work was not so hard as at first, and I could dress up pieces of stuff' that would go together better. We had some jobbing, alterations and repairs for our neighbors. He was drawing $1.25 per day when out of the shop, and work plenty. We always had our board when out. At or near spring, he took a job finishing off a tavern near Cleveland, and took me with him Monday mornings, returning Saturday "nights.

One evening, after supper, I told Mr. Pomroy I believed my six months was out. ''You ain't going to leave me, I hope V'' "I can't support my family, you know, with but ten dollai's a month." " How much do you want'?'' "Make me an offer so I can live, and I will work for you till this job is finished." He made me an offer, and I continued on till the job was completed. He then wished me to hire to him for the next twelve months. I told him I was going to Cleveland in a few days.

I arrived in Cleveland a total sti-anger. Looking around me, I saw men at work framing a large building. I watched them until I thought I knew who was the boss carpenter. I asked him if he wanted to hire more help. "Yes, what wages do you want?" He made me an offer of twenty -five dollars per month and board. I accepted, and told him my family was at Strongville. I told him I would be on hand on such a day, as I had no working clothes or tools, of which I had been buying a few. I continued with 'him the time agreed upon, and then quit. I had been cautioned to draw my pay as fast as I could, as my boss would soon break down, then I would lose it. The same man wanted to hire me when I left; he being a stranger, I thought perhaps this may be all gotten up. I had worked about two weeks ; on Saturday I asked him for my money. He told me he could not give me any. Then I told him I must quit, as it was quite necessary my family should have something to eat, and that I should have to get my pay weekly. He paid me some, and I started for home— fifteen miles, a nice little walk, — after sunset and a hard day's work. I had to get back Monday morning soon enough to commence work. Our hours then were from sun to sun in the summer, and till nine by candle light if the building was enclosed or we were in the shop, in winter, except Saturdays. I used to work my six days and then walk thirty miles by way of change. I had tried to get a house, but had failed so far. My wife was comfortably situated where she was, and I hated to move her until I could do somewhere near as well. I at last succeeded in renting some upstairs rooms, and moved my family in ; but when we lighted the Are we found the chimney was built the wrong- end down — it was a smokehouse of the first order, and unbearable ; so we had to do without fi)'e, and try to cook below, until we could do better. After a little I heard of a house that was going to be vacated, but it was a larger house than we needed, and more rent than we could afford to pay. I was in hopes the owner would let me part of it ; but no ; he would let me all of it, and I could let part, only he should look to me for the rent. We rented it. Now we began to live again. As we had a large house, more room than we needed, we soon had applicants for board. My wife concluded to take three or four, but found it did not pay. as she could not afford to set as good a table as she thought she would be able to if she had a greater number. So we fitted up to accommodate ten or twelve — a greater number had applied than we could take. Now we found we could set a better table and make a profit. I continued to work as usual. We had as happy a lot of young men as I ever saw ; all joinei's but one — he was carrying on a shoe shop close by.

I became acquainted with a young Englishman, a shop mate. His father was taken ill, and sent for him. Told him he owned a quarter section of land in the vicinity of Beardstown, 111., and if he would go and look it up, he would give it to him, if it was worth having. He found it to be valuable property, with a saw mill built on it. He was greatly pleased with the country, and spoke of those extensive prairies, where you could plow for miles without striking stump or stone. This gave me the "Illinois fever."

I had bought a piece of land, nine miles from Cleveland, on the state road to Columbus; but it was covered with a tremendous growth of timber except ten acres which I had hired cleared and fenced. I found I was a very poor hand with the ax; I worked one half day on it burning tree tops in July, and made a vow it should be my last. I had an opportunity to sell my interest; I had made some small payments as they came due. The lot was 120 acres owned in New York.

We had just began to lay up a little money, and my wife was opposed to breaking up house-keeping, as we then had become comfortably fixed. But I had left my home in England with a determination to own a farm, if my health and strength would serve me. So at last with sorrow to leave our friends, we set about preparing for our journey to Illinois. This was in September, 1835. We had a sale and sold off, or gave away, all our things that we did not wish to take with us; agreed for our passage on board the schooner Illinois, for Chicago. Having our things loaded upon the wagon, my wile and Robert in a buggy, our boarders^insisting that they would see us safely off — took the horses from the wagon and hauled our family and effects down alongside the schooner. The buggy I could not sell, excejjt at too great a sacrifice, and I concluded to take it along. Our boarders took charge of our effects till they were safely stowed on board. All

20 EARLY DAYS IN ROCKFOBD.

things now being- ready, the schooner set sail. A fair wind soon wafted us out of sight of our true and dear friends, they still standing on the wharf, getting smaller and smaller, till lost in the distance. Then, with our faces turned toward the promised land, we had quite a pleasant time. The captain had agreed to board us, and deliver us and our effects for a certain sum. He proved to be a very good and kind man to us, and landed us in Chicago, October 1st, 1835.

Chicago, then and now, look very different ; there was no shipping in the river. On our arrival, after making fast to a stump, a few visitors came on board, anxious to know about the staff of lifeflour, pork and other eatables. As provisions were getting scarce, and many were out of these things, the vessel's small supply was soon disposed of at a big figure. We had, fortunately, laid in a supply of flour and pork, and a few other necessities, before we started, that would last us for some time. One of our visitors, named Steel — a hard name, but proving a very kind friend to us — wished to know if that was my tool chest standing on the deck. I told him it was. He wanted to know if I wanted to work, and if so, how soon would I be ready. I answered as soon as I could get a house, or room, for my family. I found this to be no easy task, but at last succeeded in getting shelter — it was useless to be particular in those days. The second or third day after, I commenced work for my new acquaintance, and continued to work for him till I started for Rockford, much against his advice, as he wished me to continue with him. Steel was elected and served as sheriif of Cook county after I left.

The houses then were few and far between. The walls of the Lake House were up when we arrived. I worked on it for a while, but most of my time was spent on a brick house Mr. Steel was building over on the South Branch, for a residence for himself.

There were two things very plentiful in and about the city, especially after a rain — ducks and mud ; and as I had no desire to go into the duck trade, I concluded to seek a more solid foundation for the soles of my feet. Some time late in the fall I met an old acquaintance from Cleveland, a Mr. Twogood. Being out of a job, he joined me at the bench. Mr. Twogood and I were of the same opinion in regard to life in Chicago, and often talked of going out where we could get a farm. A compact was finally made to trust our fortunes together ; as he had a wife and, I think, three children, it would be much pleasanter for both. So it was finally decided " whither thou goest, I go also."

About Christmas, my wife being sick, I called in Dr. Goodhue, then practicing in Chicago. I told him I did not intend to settle in Chicago, as my object in coming to this country was that I might own a farm. He insisted that I could do no better than to go to Rockford,

KAKLV DAYS IN nOCKB'ORD. 21

and described the locality and its surrounding advantag-es, and stated that he had an interest in the town.

The greatest difficulty was in getting there. We found that we should be obliged to cross a number of streams — many of them quite large — and no bridges, except when frozen over. It had been quite cold, and those streams were now safe ; but, as it was getting well along in February, a thaw might set in at any time, and compel us to wait until the ground became settled, which would be too late in the spring.

To hire teams for the journey was no small task. The rule with teamsters was to find out how much money a person had, and then, if possible, extort the last cent. After an agreement had been entered into, and signed, and everything under way, miles from any house, they would threaten to go no further unless you gave an embargo on all your effects. Fortunately we entered into a written contract ; a portion paid in advance, and the balance when our goods were delivered safely in Rockford. As they were boarding at our expense, they were in no hurry to start mornings, and were only too willing to stop at night, if shelter and accommodations could be found, so we made but poor progress. The weather became warmer after we started, and the ice soon weakened. As we were crossing Fox river, one of our wagons broke through. We had to unload and fish out our things as best we could. After much labor we got our goods on the other side and loaded up, hoping to get a good start in the morning. But next morning we found a mutiny had broken out amongst our teamsters, and they refused to go any further. We agreed to leave the matter to our landlord, and abide by his decision. The contract was produced, and he told them they had better go on, as their pay was ample, if not extravagant.

After much delay we were under way ag'ain, but the teamsters were sulky, and our progress was slower, if possible, than it had been. Thawing continued. After many delays — wagons breaking down, sometimes going through the ice, harness giving out — we at last arrived, tired and weary, in sight of Newburg. The flat was under water, and the ice in the river broken up and going down stream at a terrific rate. The teams were stopped. With great difficulty some of us got near enough to converse with the people on the other side. They told us it was useless to think of crossing, and that, possibly, the water would not subside for two or three weeks. Our only course was to submit to circumstances that were entirely beyond our control. We had been informed that there was an empty log house somewhere up the river, toward Belvidere. Sick at heart, worn out and disgusted, we started on the search. About two miles west of Belvidere, in the edge of a grove, we found the cabin. We took possession in the name of "Necessity," and unloaded our things, making ourselves comfortable for the night — some cooking", others nailing quilts around the sides, to prevent ourselves from being blown through the cracks. It was not much of a palace, as it was only put up to hold a claim till some customer came along, or some friend came out from the east, or perhaps it was made for some prospective baby — these claims were many and quite extensive in those days. We had no trouble with the owner, as the place was for sale, and we convinced him that we did not intend to take permanent possession, but would move off as soon as we could cross the Kishwaukee, and also that we were willing to pay him for the shelter it afforded us.