"h 
 
Along the Old Trail 
 
 
 VOLUME 1 
 
 Pioneer Sketches of Arrow 
 Rock and Vicinity 
 
 /. . BY . . 
 
 t/C. RAINEY 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Published by Marshall Chapter, 
 Daughters of the American Revolution 
 
 MARSHALL. MO. 
 
 1914 
 
 


 \s 
 
 ®e ILuxt Cbition 
 
 Limitfd to 50 copies of ivhich this is 
 
Thomas Claiborne Rainey. 
 
 1845 
 
Thomas Claiborne Rainey. 
 1914 
 
u 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
PUBLISHERS' ANNOUNCEMENT, 
 
 The Daughters of the American Revolution have been 
 instrumental in securing the adoption of the Old Santa 
 Fe Trail as a National Highway, and, almost unaided, 
 have succeeded in having the highway through Mis- 
 souri designated by granite markers, under authority 
 of the State. They have also brought about a great 
 revival of interest in pioneer IVIissouri history. They 
 were instrumental in encouraging Mr. T. C. Rainey to 
 write a series of reminiscences of pioneer life in Saline 
 County, Missouri, which were first published in the 
 Democrat-News, of Marshall, Mo., and are now offered 
 to the public in a more available form in the present 
 volume. 
 
 The instantaneous success which greeted the publi- 
 cation of Mr. Rainey 's vivid pictures of early day 
 scenes and early day persons has been very gratify- 
 ing to the ladies of the D. A. R. They have gathered 
 these sketches into permanent form at the urgent re- 
 quest of many readers interested in the history of the 
 early settlement of Saline County. It is hoped that 
 many other contributions of a like nature may be in- 
 spired by the publication of these articles, and it is 
 the hope of the publishers to issue additional publica- 
 tions descriptive of early times, as material may become 
 available. 
 
 The Publishers. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 Publishers' Announcement 2 
 
 Biograpliical Preface 5 
 
 Arrow Rock, One of the Oldest Towns 9 
 
 The First White Man Who Explored the Old Trail 13 
 
 Arrow Rock in 1865 '. . . 17 
 
 George Sibley at Arrow Rock in 1807 23 
 
 Henry Nave, the First White Settler 26 
 
 The Hustons Among the Pioneers ' 30 
 
 Two Old-Time Arrow Rockers 31 
 
 Jackson's Story of the Big Muddy 38 
 
 A Tragedy at Arrow Rock 39 
 
 An Old Trapper and a Queer Wedding 40 
 
 Old Time Arrow Rock Characters 42 
 
 Some Practical Jokes of Old Settlers 45 
 
 Brother Babbitt's Experience 48 
 
 Two Clerks of Sixty Years Ago 49 
 
 Nick Mooney and the Rabbit 50 
 
 Mose White and His Game Chickens. .' 51 
 
 An Early Oratorical Contest 53 
 
 Beginning of the War Period 54 
 
 Frank Blair's Warm Time at Marshall 57 
 
 Social Parties and Home Theatricals 60 
 
 Merchandising at Arrow Rock in Early Times 63 
 
 Uncle Charlie Wood, A Pioneer 65 
 
 A Revolutionary Soldier and His Descendants 67 
 
 One of Saline's Agricultural Products— Arch Gregory 71 
 
 A Sensible but Unusual Wedding Ceremony 74 
 
 William B. Sappington 76 
 
 Some Recollections of Pioneers 78 
 
 3 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Page 
 
 Beginning of Blue Grass in Saline 79 
 
 Saunders Townsend 80 
 
 A Summer Scene on the Banks of the Missouri 82 
 
 Samuel H. Huston 84 
 
 Uncle Billy Barnes and the Militia 86 
 
 L. T. Lindsay 88 
 
 Letter from Dr. Glenn O. Hardeman 89 
 
 Did McCormick Design the Reaper from Dr. Hardeman's 
 Model? 91 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL PREFACE 
 
 Thomas Claiborne Rainey was born in Giles county, 
 Tennessee, on his grandfather's plantation. Early 
 family misfortune caused his devoted old Virginia 
 mother, newly acquainted with poverty, to send her son, 
 then only eleven years of age, to a printing office in 
 Pulaski, the county site, with the hope of procuring for 
 him both an education and a means of support. He re- 
 mained there eight years, as printer's "devil" at a small 
 salary. The ownership of the newspaper changed five 
 times, one proprietor after another failing to make a 
 success, until by ''sticking to the ship" he had become 
 practically the manager of the paper, often editing the 
 editorials of the fluent writer, who rarely reviewed his 
 own productions. 
 
 A partial friend, who had faith in the boy, prevailed 
 upon him to purchase, mainly on credit, a half interest 
 in a run-down but valuable printing establishment at 
 Columbia, Maury county, Tennessee, then offered for 
 sale on very favorable terms; and, knowing the young 
 man's lack of means, this friend volunteered to ask a 
 relative and some business men of Pulaski to loan him 
 sufficient money to make a first payment, which they 
 generously did. 
 
 He and his partner issued their paper promptly, 
 changing its title from ''Columbia Observer (first 
 founded by Felix K. Zollicoffer), to "Maury Intelligen- 
 cer," Whig in politics. By the end of the first year the 
 firm had established a growing business; but subscrip- 
 tions were rarely paid in advance in those days, conse- 
 quently their second payment on their office matured 
 before they had collected any considerable money from 
 subscribers, and they had some trouble in raising the 
 money coming due. The terms of subscription were $2.50 
 cash, $3.00 in six months, and $3.50 at the end of the 
 year. 
 
 Young Rainey borrowed a horse, printed and took with 
 him blank notes, and visited every subscriber in the 
 county, at his home. His patron was usually a good citi- 
 
 5 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 zen and solvent, always a Whig ; so that before the young 
 man left a house he either carried off an interest bear- 
 ing note or had compromised the increased credit charge 
 by accepting $5 cash, and crediting his subscriber with 
 a year's subscription in advance. He thus increased his 
 cash, made acquaintance with his patrons, and often 
 his subscriber would even ride with him to an adjoining 
 neighbor and help relieve him of a year's subscription. 
 Within two months he had collected enough money to 
 pay every cent then due, and he never afterwards was 
 seriously embarrassed for money. 
 
 Young Rainey's partner was a talented writer, and 
 did the principal editorial work until he was chosen to 
 a professorship in Jackson College, a local institution, 
 after which Rainey became the sole proprietor. He 
 applied for and secured the office of census-taker for 
 his county, thus enabling him to extend his acquaintance 
 and to enlarge his newspaper interests. It gave him one 
 of the happiest and most instructive experiences of his 
 life. Passing rapidly from house to house, he soon lost 
 all consciousness of being a stranger to any one, and has 
 admitted that he was probably the sauciest lad a good- 
 natured and hospitable people ever endured. A visitor 
 to entertain over night was coveted by the noble rural 
 people of the Southern States who adorned the earth be- 
 fore the days of railroads, and the young man so rarely 
 was permitted to pay for anything at all that his ex- 
 penses for three months were only about five dollars. 
 Four years later a profitable offer was made for his now 
 successful newspaper plant and he sold it. After wind- 
 ing up his business, he mounted a horse and rode into 
 Missouri in the fall of 1852, intending to enter land and 
 probably to make his home here. He came to Springfield, 
 Mo., and found the land office closed, while the railroads' 
 lands were being selected for building what was then 
 called the Southwest Branch of the Missouri Pacific rail- 
 road. He returned to Tennessee and came back the next 
 spring, finding the land office still closed ; but he waited 
 three months until it did open, meantime enjoying about 
 the first real holiday of his life. 
 
 After selecting his lands, he settled on a farm four 
 miles south of Springfield, and in the spring of 1854 was 
 
 6 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 married to Margaret Chapman, a saintly woman, who 
 died at Marshall in 1887. He lived eight years on his 
 farm, and had made progress, both as farmer and as 
 grower and dealer in live stock, when the war came on in 
 1861. He was always a Whig; had conducted a Whig 
 newspaper in President Polk's home town, and in 1860 
 had cast his vote for John Bell, of Tennessee, for Presi- 
 dent. Such a man was not apt to be a secessionist nor a 
 Republican, and he decidedly was neither. Who remem- 
 bers a Southern Whig who has ever admitted he was 
 wrong, or a dyed-in-the-wool Southern Democrat who 
 does not assert he was right at that time ? Neither ever 
 got what he wanted, and both got many things they 
 didn't want. 
 
 Nearly the whole population of Green county was 
 Southern born, and natives of Tennessee. When the trial 
 came, some went into the Confederate army ; others into 
 the Federal service ; and a still larger number, old Whigs, 
 adhered to neither, but in the end were buffeted by both. 
 Rainey, mtli his wife and two colored servants, and some 
 horses, went first to Rolla, believing the war would be 
 over in a few months. Meantime he undertook to keep 
 the wolf from the door by first clerking in a hotel ; then 
 a friend who had some money proposed that he buy mules 
 and market them for half the profits, at St. Louis, where 
 the Government contractors were buying. Next he be- 
 gan buying and selling cattle both at Rolla and at St. 
 Louis ; and later, after he had accumulated some capital, 
 buying an interest in a wholesale mercantile house at 
 Rolla, which paid handsomely without his ever entering 
 the store as an active partner. All one had to do to make 
 money at that time was to buy something marketable and 
 sell it again, since prices of commodities advanced as fast 
 as the gold value of '^ greenbacks " went down. Rainey 
 next went to St. Louis and opened an office for buying and 
 selling Government vouchers, which were continually 
 coming in from the country, and would not be paid until 
 audited, that requiring time and some knowledge of the 
 routine of the auditing departments. 
 
 By 1863 he had made enough money to compensate 
 him for the loss of all live stock left on his farm, and for 
 a fine crop of grain and hay taken by both armies as they 
 
 7 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 alternately occupied Springfield, and for which he never 
 received a cent of pay. In that year he took his wife and 
 an only child, and spent a summer traveling through the 
 States where travel was possible, and through Canada, 
 finally stopping in New York City, where he met many 
 Kentuckians and Missourians, refugees, in about as 
 happy state of homelessness as himself. A fortunate ac- 
 quaintance made with a banking firm there led to his 
 employment in the bank in a confidential service, and in 
 one of the few places he was at all fitted for. He re- 
 mained there until just previous to coming to Saline, 
 his wife meantime boarding at Columbia, Mo., from 
 which town he came to Arrow Rock in the latter part of 
 1865. 
 
 Here he lived fourteen years, among a people he loves 
 very dearly, and doing a successful business in his line, 
 at the same time, after he had accumulated some surplus 
 money, engaging in stock-growing in partnerships with 
 a number of his farming friends, who bred short-horn 
 cattle furnished by him. After Arrow Rock failed in 
 its effort to secure a railroad, he sold out there, and, after 
 an interval in winding up his business, he located in Mar- 
 shall, and entered into a partnership with Jacob Van- 
 Dyke, which continued until 1901, when he came to Kan- 
 sas City, bought lands in the vicinity, and lives there 
 now. 
 
 He was induced to begin writing articles concerning 
 Arrow Rock and its early history at a time when those 
 noble ladies of the D. A. R. were advocating a National 
 Highway which would follow the historic trails as far as 
 possible, across the continent, and when there seemed to 
 be a purpose to direct the route in such a way as to leave 
 Arrow Rock off the Old Trail. He probably thinks as 
 modestly of his ability as a writer as will his most indif- 
 ferent reader. 
 
ALONG THE OLD TRAIL 
 
 ARROW ROCK, ONE OF THE OLDEST TOWNS IN 
 MISSOURI. 
 
 The average Missourian knows a great deal more about 
 the early history of the thirteen colonies than that of the 
 State in which he was born. This can be accounted for 
 from the fact that the first explorers and colonists of 
 Louisiana Territory, of which Missouri was a part, re- 
 corded their acts in a language different from ours, and 
 that the records themselves were mainly lodged in France 
 and Spain. But a late history of Missouri, devoted al- 
 most exclusively to the period between its first explora- 
 tion and its entrance into the Union as a State, contains 
 more valuable data on colonial Missouri than all the 
 other histories I have ever read. It is in three volumes, 
 published at Cape Girardeau, Mo., in 1908. Its author 
 is the Hon. Lewis Houck, an eminent lawyer, business 
 man and writer. It is a little less than marvelous how 
 a man leading such a busy life in other lines could have 
 found time to compile such a work. As a record of col- 
 onial government and of pioneer life in Missouri terri- 
 tory, Mr. Houck 's history has no rival in extent, in au- 
 thority and in graphic and lucid presentation. I have 
 had the privilege of reading a private letter from the 
 author of this book and take the liberty of making this 
 quotation from it: ''Arrow Rock is one of the first 
 places marked on the old maps of the Missouri river. On 
 D'Anville's map it is called Pierre a'Fleche — (Arrow 
 Rock). Maj. Long says it is a beautiful situation, and 
 rises to a considerable elevation above the water. It was 
 a well known resort of Indians to secure stone arrow 
 heads." 
 
 There are many other reasons why the locations should 
 have been remarkable and well known. One of the maps 
 in Mr. Houck 's history shows that an Indian trail led 
 from the Osage villages on the Osage river, from about 
 Papinsville, in Bates county, down the river to below 
 
 9 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Schell City in Vernon county. Of this trail the history- 
 says: *'An Osage trail led from their villages to Arrow 
 Rock on the Missouri river, probably because there they 
 made flint arrow heads for their arrows. ' ' 
 
 Arrow Rock was a crossing place where this trail met 
 another trail on the north side leading both up and down 
 the river, as shown by the map. It was situated, as 
 near as any other point which could be named, where 
 the great prairie plains, traversed by the horseback 
 Indian began, and where the forest Indian, with his dif- 
 ferent modes of hunting and warfare, ended. It was 
 surrounded by salt springs, which attracted to them the 
 buffalo and other wild game in immense numbers. At the 
 salt springs on the former Richart farm on Camp Creek, 
 and at those south and west of the town of Blackwater, 
 on the old Bagby farm and the Marion Clark farm, 
 many tons of earth have been ''licked" and carried away 
 by wild animals, as can yet be seen by any one curious 
 in such matters. At some early time, perhaps as far 
 back as 1720 to 1725 — ^fifty years before our revolu- 
 tionary war — extensive mining was done a few miles 
 south of Arrow Rock, and southwest, not far from the 
 LaMine river. Since these mines were worked, large 
 trees, measuring three or four feet in diameter, have 
 grown on the tumuli and in the depressions where the 
 earth was displaced. The history disclosed that Philip 
 Renault, in 1721, came to Fort de Chartres, bringing 
 with him experienced miners, and 500 slaves from San 
 Domingo, with the object of exploring and mining in 
 Upper Louisiana territory. Either he or some of his 
 agents or followers probably traveled up the trail which 
 led from St. Genevieve to the Osage villages, and from 
 thence along the trail leading to Arrow Rock. 
 The trail from Arrow Rock leads to the Black- 
 water, crossing that stream at the Boat- Yard 
 ford, and thence in the direction of Georgetown in Pet- 
 tis county. Both the old mine workings and the salt 
 springs are not far from the Osage trail. At the salt 
 spring on the Marion Clark land — now Marshall farm, 
 I think — ^posts driven in the Saline earth, were long pre- 
 served from decay by the salt, piles of ashes and fire 
 coals showing that salt had been made there. If they 
 
 10 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 have not been recently disturbed, many such, evidences 
 are yet to be seen. Mr. Clark told me that, when his 
 father first came to the vicinity (in 1837, I think), none 
 of the old pioneers at that day had any knowledge as to 
 who had made salt at that spring. 
 
 Very probably it was about at the same time the mines 
 were being opened. The location was a favorable one, 
 for Blackwater is near, leading to the LaMine, and salt 
 could have been floated do^^Ti those streams to the Mis- 
 souri and Mississippi rivers, to Kaskaskia and Fort de 
 Chartres, the only white settlements in Upper Louisiana 
 territory at that time. 
 
 It is a reasonable conjecture that the region around 
 this remarkable old town was neutral territory, visited 
 alike by the tribes of the upper river and of the sur- 
 rounding territory. Catlin, authority on Indian habits 
 and history, mentions such a locality in the north-west, 
 where there is a peculiar deposit of red stone, sought by 
 the Indians for a thousand miles around for making 
 pipes. He says Indians of every tribe were free to visit 
 this quarry unmolested. The pipes being of universal 
 use, they considered that the Great Spirit had intended 
 this stone for the use of all alike. The flint arrow head, 
 being also of universal use, and a necessity to all, it is a 
 fair inference, that all were free to come and go un- 
 disturbed. It may be that representatives of all the tribes 
 made their home here, and wrought the implements for 
 their own people. The makers of these arrow heads 
 could not have been migratory, but must have resided 
 permanently in the vicinity where their work was done. 
 They were probably elderly men, for their art was 
 difficult, and its acquisition must have required patience, 
 talent and time. No doubt they instructed younger men 
 in their craft, else knowledge of its processes would be 
 lost. So far as I have ever heard, no one now knows 
 how these arrow heads were fashioned so perfectly out 
 of a hard and brittle stone, liable to break in any direc- 
 tion. They were brought into perfect form without the 
 aid of any metallic tool. I am told that even by the use 
 of the finest steel implements no one can now repro- 
 duce a perfect flint arrow head. 
 
 One of the reasons why Arrow Rock was chosen as a 
 
 11 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 place to make arrowheads is, doubtless, because there is 
 not anywhere up the river, and near to it, any other 
 considerable out cropping of flint. It is probable that 
 the upper plains Indians depended on that locality for 
 their arrows. Not only local facts but historical records 
 show that they were made there extensively, and that 
 the name of the town originates from that fact. ' ' Pierre 
 Fleche'' in English is Arrow Rock. 
 
 It is pleasing to think of the original tenants of the 
 old town as being the artificers for all the tribes sur- 
 rounding them, extending a friendly hospitality to, and 
 smoking the pipe of peace with, all who came. 
 
 Mr. Houck's history, vol. 1, page 225, states: *'Du 
 Tisne, the earliest explorer by land through what is now 
 Missouri, must have followed a trace or trail when he 
 visited the Osagesin 1720, in their village on the Osage 
 river." With equal certainty, if this traveler visited 
 the Osage 4fir -the. villages to the south, he must have fol- 
 lowed the trail from there to Arrow Rock, or else have 
 returned as he came, which is not probable when the 
 object was exploration. He started from Fort de Char- 
 tres, across the river from Ste. Genevieve, and could have 
 returned by following the Osage trail to Arrow Rock; 
 thence along the trail, shown on the map, to the mouth 
 of the Missouri river, and then down the Mississippi 
 on the east side, to the fort. 
 
 Arrow Rock was an Indian town, with a French name, 
 and a reason for it, before St. Louis, St. Charles or 
 Franklin were founded. 
 
 12 
 
Along the Old Trail, 
 
 THE FIRST WHITE MAN WHO EXPLORED THE 
 OLD TRAIL. 
 
 Capt. Becknell, who is usually called the Father of 
 the Santa Fe Trail, is not the first white man who marked 
 it, and the idea of opening such a roadway originated 
 at its western terminus almost thirty years before it was 
 traveled by Americans. 
 
 Santa Fe was permanently settled by Spaniards, and 
 became the capital of New Mexico about 1642. It was 
 situated very far from water transportation, the near- 
 est being Corpus Christi or Vera Cruz on the Gulf of 
 Mexico, both Spanish ports. Gold and silver mines 
 around Santa Fe made money plentiful, while mer- 
 chandise was very scarce and very high in price. There- 
 fore the Governor of New Mexico conceived the idea of 
 opening a roadway to the Missouri river and to St. Louis, 
 over the. unknown and untraveled route. This would "t Vi e h 
 reach a nearer market accessible to water transportation, 
 and also be within the dominion of Spain. Gov. Concha 
 selected Don Pedro Vial to explore for a suitable road- 
 way; furnished him and two companions with outfit, 
 government horses and a letter to Gov. Trudeau of St. 
 Louis, then acting Governor of Upper Louisiana terri- 
 tory (called ''The Illinois"), and gave full directions as 
 to his journey. 
 
 Vial's two companions were Vicente Espinesa and 
 Josef Vicente Vilanueva, both experienced plainsmen. 
 He was instructed "To keep a diary exact as possible, 
 noting therein the direction which he takes, the daily 
 distances, the rivers which he finds, their flow and the 
 quantity of their waters, the mountains and tablelands 
 which present themselves to him, explaining their con- 
 figuration, and supplying them names, the tribes which 
 he finds and their customs, and what he may find out 
 from them, and whatever else he believes can be of us© 
 for information and clearness." 
 
 Another paragraph of Gov. Concha's instructions 
 discloses that Vial was a Frenchman, as he is directed to 
 
 13 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 record his diary in French, he not being well instructed 
 in the Spanish language. It also appears from what 
 will follow, that Vial once lived in St. Louis and that he 
 had previously been an Indian agent. 
 
 Extracts from the Diary. 
 
 *^ Diary of the voyage undertaken by me, Pedro Vial, 
 at the order of Don Fernando de la Concha, Colonel of 
 the Royal Armies and Governor ; from Santa Fe, Nueva 
 Mexico, to San Luis de Ylinneses, in the Province of 
 Louisiana. ' ' 
 
 *'May 21, 1792.— We left Santa Fe and went to sleep 
 in the village of Peco, a distance of seven leagues. 
 
 ''May 23. — ^We stayed quiet in said village in order 
 to arrange our packs. We left said village, taking an 
 easterly direction and made camp at night in the moun- 
 tains distant five leagues away. 
 
 ''May 24. — We have come to sleep at the river Peco, 
 after a march of four leagues. ' * 
 
 Each day's journey and its events are recorded in this 
 quaint language, and I shall omit, for brevity's sake, 
 most of them. 
 
 May 30 he records: "We followed the same easterly 
 direction, also through plains along the banks of the 
 Colorado river, and made camp on that river after hav- 
 ing marched about six leagues. 
 
 "May 31. — ^We left in the same direction and along 
 the same river and slept short distance from it. We lost 
 a horse. We marched about six leagues. 
 
 "June 6. — ^We did not march, as I was sick, until the 
 17th, when we left in the morning in the same easterly 
 direction and along the same river, marching about three 
 leagues. 
 
 "June 28. — ^We kept quiet all day in order to rest our 
 horses. 
 
 "June 29. — We left in the morning at daybreak along 
 the Napeste river, which flowed east-north-east. We 
 found some buffaloes which the Indians had killed and 
 we believed they were of the tribe of the Gauchaches, who 
 were hunting through that region. We went to find 
 them, since I know that they are well inclined to the gov- 
 
 14 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ernment of the province of Louisiana. We found them 
 about four in the afternoon in their camp on the said 
 shore of the said Napeste (Arkansas) river. As they 
 approached us on the opposite side with the river be- 
 tween us we fired some shots in the air to get them to see 
 us. They immediately set out and came to stop us on the 
 other side. Those who first met us grasped us cordially 
 by the hand. I asked them of what tribe they were and 
 they told me they were Cances (Kansas). They imme- 
 diately took our horses and all our possessions and cut 
 our clothes which we wore, with knives, thus leaving us 
 naked. They were of a mind to kill us, whereupon some 
 of them cried out to those who were about to do it, not 
 to kill us with guns or arrows, because of the great risk 
 that would be run of killing one another, as they sur- 
 rounded us; but that if they killed us it should be by 
 hatchet blows or spears. One highly esteemed among 
 them took up our defense, begging all of them to leave us 
 alive. Thereupon another highly respected one came, 
 and taking me by the hand made me mount his own 
 horse with him. Then another came up behind and 
 hurled a spear at me, but the one who had me on his 
 horse restrained him by laying hold of him, leaving me 
 alone on the horse. Then one of them, who had been 
 a servant in the village of San Luis de Ylinnese and 
 who talked excellent French, came up to me and recog- 
 nized me. He began to cry out, 'Do not kill him. We 
 shall ascertain whence he is coming, for I know him.' 
 Taking the rein of my horse, he took me to his tent and 
 said to me, 'Friend, now your grace must hurry if you 
 wish to save your life, for among us it is the custom and 
 law that after having eaten no one is killed. ' After hav- 
 ing eaten hastily as he charged me, they left me quiet 
 and the chiefs having assembled after a moment came to 
 me and asked me whence I was coming. I told them I 
 was coming to open a road from Santa Fe to Los Ylin- 
 nese, having been sent by the great chief, their Spanish 
 Father, and that I had letters for the Spanish Chief at 
 San Luis de Ylinnese. Thereupon they left me quiet until 
 the following day. My two companions did not fail to run 
 the same dangers as myself, but they were also saved 
 
 15 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 by other Indians who were well inclined. They kept us 
 naked in the same camp until the fifteenth of August. 
 
 "August 16. — Again we left with the above mentioned 
 Indians on their return to their village, going in a north- 
 easterly direction, and we journeyed in ten days about 
 fifty leagues through level plains. 
 
 "August 25. — ^We reached their village, which is on 
 the river of the Kances. The river flows into the river 
 called Misoury. We remained there until the 11th of 
 September, when a Frenchman came with a pirogue 
 laden with various sorts of merchandise, to trade with 
 the tribe. He supplied both me and my companions with 
 garments wherewith to clothe ourselves. 
 
 "September 16. — We left the village of the Kances in 
 search of the Missouri river with a pirouge belonging to 
 three traders who were returning to the village of the 
 San Luis de Ylinneses. We arrived there October 6 at 
 night. 
 
 Houck's "Spanish Regime in Missouri," from which 
 this is quoted, "Pedro Vial," in a foot note says of Vial: 
 "He seems to have enjoyed the esteem and confidence 
 of the Indians to a remarkable degree, and was thus a 
 valuable Indian Agent for the Spanish." The same 
 authority adds : "Vial 's journey may well be considered 
 the first march overland on substantially the route which 
 afterwards became celebrated as the Santa Fe Trail. ' ' 
 
 Vial was warmly welcomed at St. Louis, and he was 
 supplied with an outfit for his return journey by order 
 of Gov. Trudeau, out of government supplies, and a re- 
 port was made to Baron Carondelet of the proposal to 
 open the roadway to Santa Fe. Nothing seems to have 
 come of it, perhaps because the dangers of the journey 
 were considered too great, or, as probably, because the 
 traders at St. Louis did not want a rival market for furs 
 west of them. 
 
 A monument has been dedicated at Franklin to Capt. 
 Wm. Becknell, Father of the Santa Fe Trail, and de- 
 servedly. The City of Santa Fe might very appropriate- 
 ly erect a stone in honor of Pedro Vial and his compan- 
 ions who first traveled and marked out the Trail from 
 2i)\l itsi western terminus^to Grov. Concha, who first conceived 
 the idea of such a traffic way. Vial passed down the 
 
 16 
 
Along the Old Trail 
 
 Kaw and out from its mouth into ''the river called 
 Misoury," and doubtless looked admiringly at the cliff 
 on which Arrow Kock is seated, and where Wm. Beck- 
 nells, thirty years later, crossed the river on his way to 
 the far-off mountain city from which Vial hailed. 
 
 ARROW ROCK IN 1865. 
 
 I first saw Arrow Rock in the fall of 1865, coming 
 into the county on horseback and crossing the river at 
 Glasgow. My first night was spent in the old brick 
 tavern, then as now, the most notable building in the 
 town, and my horse was stabled in "Jim" West's livery 
 barn. "Jim" West was the father of "Steve" West, 
 who later drove the Boonville and Marshall hack, and 
 was later very well known in Marshall. 
 
 I came in search of something to do, having failed to 
 buy a drug store at Columbia. My knowledge of drugs 
 extended to calomel, paragoric, salts, hair oil and a mere 
 speaking acquaintance with red liquor. In merchan- 
 dise I knew red-top boots, yarn socks, hats, pocket 
 knives and had come in contact with a few ready-made 
 shirts with enormously starched "bosoms," bullet-proof 
 until after the first washing. However, I was young and 
 hopeful. James E. Ancell owned a stock of general mer- 
 chandise he wanted to sell, and I bought it, and began 
 my business career in Saline. 
 
 As I remember, the tradesmen of the town, beginning 
 with the year 1866, were Henry S. Mills, merchant 
 and banker. Mr. Mills later moved the bank of Arrow 
 Rock to Kansas City. It was dissolved after one year's 
 experiment, when Mr. Mills organized the private bank 
 of H. S. Mills & Son. This bank later became the West- 
 ern Exchange Bank, which is yet in successful opera- 
 tion. 
 
 In dry goods and general merchandise I found Ben 
 F. Townsend, John C. Thompson, Sr., a former partner 
 of Joseph Huston; Mrs. Frances Durett, (grand-mother 
 of Mrs. C. M. Buckner) who had living apartments over 
 the store, which was long since burned. Erasmus, "Ras," 
 Huston, brother of Joseph and Samuel ; Miller & Rainey, 
 
 17 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 (H. C. Miller and T. C. Rainey), and a Mr. Neil, who 
 left that year. 
 
 In the grocery line I found Mr. Barksdale, father 
 of Ed Barksdale, now of Slater, and Wood & Huston. 
 
 The firm of Wood & Huston, who were first associated 
 in 1859, dealt largely in farm implements, furniture, 
 hardware, boots and shoes, and also owned the ware- 
 house at the river. Capt. Carter M. Sutherlin was at this 
 time in their employ, while Mr. R. J. McMahan was yet 
 living on his farm in Cooper county. Wood & Huston 
 shipped all the live stock, grain and hemp marketed from 
 almost one-half of Saline county, and a portion of 
 Pettis and Cooper counties; they received and handled 
 all the merchandise shipped in for the same territory. 
 John Huston and Nelse Robertson, "John and Nelse," 
 colored, were the faithful warehouse keepers. John Leff- 
 ler, old plainsman and freighter, with his three yoke of 
 oxen carried the freight along the Old Trail from Arrow 
 Rock to Marshall, leaving upon it the last tracks of the 
 old ox- wagon. 
 
 James A. West was the liveryman and mail contrac- 
 tor ; Wm. Putsch, just returned from the army, was tell- 
 er in the bank of Missouri, of which H. S. Mills was 
 cashier. John Webb conducted a jewelry store. Wm. 
 H. Ancell (Billy), John C. Dickerson and D. B. Col- 
 trane, were photographers. D. B. Colbrane later lived in 
 Miami, afterwards moving to Marshall, where he en- 
 gaged in the jewelry business. Later he assisted in or- 
 ganizing the First National Bank. He is now a resi- 
 dent of Concord, North Carolina, his old home. He is 
 president of the National Bank at that place, and is 
 prominently interested in cotton mills. 
 
 John Taylor was the village blacksmith ; George Bing- 
 ham, wood worker; "Dock" Petitt, wagon maker; Sam 
 Huston, brother of Joseph and "Ras," was pioneer 
 miller; O'Brien and John McOuffin were tinners; Mat- 
 thew Gaunt was miller, wool-carder and manufacturer 
 of woolen cloths. James E. Ancell was a lumber dealer. 
 J. W. Patterson, (Squire "Billy" Patterson), and Geo. 
 Fenwick were justices of the peace or "magistrates." 
 
 Henry S. Wilhelm, father of John H. Wilhelm and 
 W. B. Wilhelm, was postmaster and mayor. Elisha 
 
 18 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Ancell, Jolin Baker and John Slusher, were builders. 
 Doctors Dysart, Glenn 0. Hardeman, Redmon, R. W. 
 McClelland and Gr. H. Bowers were the physicians. 
 Knapp Chase, plasterer; Ed Miller, painter, wag, and 
 good fellow generally. John P. Sites, gunsmith, a most 
 unique character, who never lost faith in the future 
 greatness of Arrow Rock. Richard Horn, Sr., father 
 of R. C. Horn and Thos. Horn, conducted a hotel west 
 of the Old Tavern. 
 
 Mrs. Scripture had succeeded Mrs. Vanice in the man- 
 agement of the old brick tavern. Mrs. Stean (mother 
 of Mrs. John McGuffin) conducted the only millinery 
 store. Jay M. Potter, father of Mrs. C. M. Buckner, 
 kept books, stationery and a very mixed stock of almost 
 everything; Jake Epple was the shoemaker; Fiser Bros., 
 fishermen and general utility men. 
 
 Henry Cooper was the ferryman; Ed Chase, with a 
 lot of other boys, boatmen, water rats, knowing every- 
 thing about the river from top to bottom, and from Lii- 
 "bon to Hardeman's bend, were well known to all old 
 timers. The Reverend A. M. Rader, a good man, was the 
 Methodist minister. 
 
 Uncle Jesse McMahan, the oldest merchant of all, re- 
 opened in dry goods in 1866. John C. Lamkin came in 
 1866 and clerked for Ben Townsend. Ed. H. Mitchell, 
 then 12 years old, began to manage my business the same 
 year. ^ John McGuffin was the step-father of all the chil- 
 dren in town, and in the country as far as his spring 
 wagon carried. He is the only man in town who has not 
 changed his employment. The babies follow him yet. 
 He, Judge Wm. Henry Huston and Dan Watts are the 
 town's oldest citizens. 
 
 The war was just over, and returned soldiers from 
 both armies were back home. There was no cordiality 
 between them, particularly between those, on both sides, 
 who had skirmished around without doing much fight- 
 ing. The actual soldiers fraternized better. 
 
 Early in the spring of '66 some guerillas of the South- 
 ern side rented an old brick house out not far from Mrs. 
 Darwin Sappington 's, and would come to town with big 
 unconcealed pistols belted around them. Once when a 
 little ''full," they "shot up" the town, causing some 
 
 19 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 alarm. They boasted of their bloody career during the 
 war. But it was suspected from their actions that they 
 were a sort of clearing-house for horse-thieves, and the 
 old town didn't like it. A meeting was held, and it was 
 decided to ask John Wall, the sheriff, to come down and 
 help the citizens scare them off. He sent his deputy, 
 Frank Sappington, with a ''John Doe" warrant, who 
 summoned about thirty citizens as a posse to assist him 
 in making an arrest, or pretense of an arrest rather. I 
 remember Knapp Chase, Gen. Bingham, Capt. Sutherlin, 
 Will Jackson, D. E. Dysart, Joe Huston, Sam Huston, 
 Bill Greene, John Webb, and I think Wm. Putsch. The 
 house was about two-and-a-half miles away. The posse 
 was armed with pistols and the usual fowling pieces, and 
 started at nightfall, walking silently. Arrived at the 
 house, Capt. Sutherlin, I think, took charge, and placed 
 men at intervals all around it. My station was at the 
 front gate, with Knapp Chase, and near a stout sapling. 
 After all were in place. Will Jackson and Dr. Dysart, 
 both feeling pretty lively, and both Southern men, walk- 
 ed to the front door. Their steps on the front porch 
 sounded dreadfully loud. They knocked, and a female 
 voice cried out. As quick as you could clap your two 
 hands together twice a footfall bounded to the floor and 
 a shot was fired from an upper window. Knapp Chase 
 instantly let loose both barrels at the flash of the gun. 
 Then a little fusilade. From the noise inside some one 
 was evidently hit, but soon all was quiet again. 
 
 Bill Greene, a good fellow, was lying flat in the garden, 
 with his gun ready, when a man with a gun came run- 
 ning through, stooping low. He almost ran over him, 
 but Bill had no malice in his heart, and he didn't fire. 
 Besides, didn't we come out there to drive those wretches 
 off ? And weren 't they going ? He was actually pleased, 
 as I would have been, to see him disappear, i 
 
 Knapp Chase, as soon as he had fired, coolly began to 
 recharge his old muzzle-loader. Your historian nestled 
 up to that sapling and felt himself projecting out on both 
 sides of it distressingly. He felt as big as Tom Boat- 
 right when he was the fattest, and that sapling seemed to 
 ''swivel" up till it was not much larger than a pencil. 
 
 The effeot was salutory. Arrow Rock was strongly 
 
 20 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Southern, but this little episode convinced the riff-raff 
 that "Secesh" wouldn't tolerate thieves and bullies. It 
 caused both sides to realize that it was best to work in 
 harmony and let bygones go. 
 
 ^ It turned out that only two men were in the den that 
 night. One got away, and the other got some buckshot. 
 In a few days they all left for nobody knew where. They 
 probably found the war was over, wherever they went. 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PIONEERS. 
 
 Although hardly entitled to the honor of being called 
 a pioneer myself, it has been my very good fortune to 
 have lived ^ most of my life where some of the 
 original pioneers of the country were yet surviv- 
 ing. The Southern border of Middle Tennessee 
 was a new country when I was a boy, and I can 
 remember when some of the last of the large gray 
 timber wolves, native in the forest there, were being 
 slaughtered. Four-fifths of the land was yet clothed in 
 its primitive grand old forest trees, many of them six 
 and eight feet in circumference, and whose branches al- 
 most completely shut out the sun on a mid-summer day. 
 That part of the population above the age of fifteen years 
 was made up almost entirely of emigrants from the 
 Carolinas and Virginia. Very many of them had been 
 through the Indian wars under Sevier and Gen. Jackson, 
 and were with the latter at the battle of New Orleans. 
 Adjoining on the southeast, the Cherokee tribe of Indians 
 was living peaceably under its own simple tribal laws. In 
 parts of West Tennessee the Indians' title to the lands 
 was not yet extinguished by treaty. Tennessee was then 
 the land of pioneers, and spoken of as the ''West." 
 
 I rode on horseback into southern Missouri when a 
 much greater part of it was unentered, broad prairies, 
 the settlements being mainly along their borders or in the 
 timber lands surrounding. I left a State which had 
 not a mile of completed railroad, and entered another 
 State which had none. I afterwards came to Arrow Rock 
 at the close of the war. 
 
 I am led to make this discursion, not to call attention 
 to myself but by way of introduction to sketches I have 
 
 21 
 
'Along the Old Trail. 
 
 in mind of some of the old pioneers who lived at Arrow 
 Rock. When I first came there I found myself character- 
 izing them all in substantially the same way, the differ- 
 ence being mainly in the temperament of the men. The 
 pioneers, everywhere I have known them, were almost in- 
 variably strong, healthy, bold, sensible and enterprising 
 men. They had made their way to a new country by the 
 slow locomotion of ox teams or horses, camping by the 
 roadside. They came moved by the impulse for adven- 
 ture, and to obtain cheaper lands for themselves and their 
 children. Circumstances of necessity made them more 
 than ordinarily dependent upon each other, and there- 
 fore more intimate and friendly. They knew little about 
 the written law, but had firm convictions of right and 
 wrong. A dishonest man, or an inhospitable neighbor 
 would not be tolerated. The best thing he could do 
 would be to move away, and he almost invariably did. 
 Otherwise he would be ignored or insulted. They had a 
 blunt, frank manner of speaking, and expressed their 
 likes and dislikes with small regard as to who might be 
 present to hear. They were ready to stand by a friend 
 and support him with their personal brawn and the 
 last cent in their pockets, if the emergency arose. All 
 of man's nobler and more chivalric impulses — courage, 
 hospitality, integrity — were brought out and developed 
 by the conditions confronting them. Character was an 
 asset of value more potent than wealth or great learning. 
 "A man's word was his bond." 
 
 A few of this disappearing class of men were yet liv- 
 ing when I first came to Saline county. I very naturally 
 courted their acquaintance, and they were kind and 
 friendly to me. They were the salt of the earth, and 
 their impress is yet visible in those parts of Saline where 
 little change has been made in the original population; 
 notably west of Arrow Rock, the Fairville country, and 
 on to Miami. 
 
 22 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 GEORGE SIBLEY AT ARROW ROCK IN 1807. 
 
 The earliest authentic account of Arrow Rock disclos- 
 es that it was an Indian town, as has been stated, in- 
 habited by the makers of flint arrow heads. How large 
 the village was, and how many engaged in the work, we 
 do not know. Existing evidence shows that such work 
 was performed there in a more extensive way than I 
 have ever known elsewhere. A resident of the vicinity 
 recently told me that he had seen remains of flint spawls 
 in quantity which would have amounted to bushels, and 
 this on a different hillside to where I found them years 
 ago. Doubtless, cultivation of the land and the action 
 of drift by rainfall and travel have obliterated most 
 of these ancient remains of long ago. The pioneers were 
 not so much concerned in preserving Indian antiquities 
 as in protecting themselves from the flying missies hurled 
 from their bows. 
 
 Baron La Houton, a Frenchman and noted traveler, 
 accused of inflating the truth occasionally, wrote an ac- 
 count of his travels in Louisiana territory in 1668, in 
 which he relates that in a hunting expedition up the 
 Missouri river, he secured a hundred wild turkeys. If 
 he followed the trails, as he certainly must, he crossed 
 at Arrow Rock. On account of the Saline waters, all 
 kinds of game were particularly abundant around there. 
 
 Another distinguished early traveler, Charlevoix, an 
 educated priest, came through from Canada in 1720, 
 explored the Missouri river country and wrote a book of 
 his travels. His book contains a map, which shows Ar- 
 row Rock as a crossing point on the Indian trails he 
 traveled. He wrote other books of his travels in Central 
 and South America. 
 
 From 1720 to the time Lewis and Clarke came up the 
 river in 1804, little is recorded, except that we know 
 the hunters and trappers made occasional incursions 
 through the Missouri river country, which was then 
 claimed by the Osage tribe of Indians. 
 
 After Lewis and Clarke 's ascent of the river, Captain 
 
 23 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 George Sibley came in 1807, and built a fort and trading 
 post at the present site of Arrow Rock. He was the first 
 English speaking white man who ever settled on Saline 
 County soil. He did not remain long, but pushed on fur- 
 ther West, and established another triiding post at Fort 
 Osage, now called Sibley, in Jackson County. Here he 
 remained for some time, engaging in a profitable trade 
 with the Osages and other Indian tribes. The chief 
 commodities dealt in were furs and pelts. 
 
 Two or three miles above Arrow Rock, Jesse Cox and 
 his son-in-law, "William Gregg, built a block-house dwel- 
 ling in the bottom in October, 1814. It is related in 
 Houck's History of Missouri, that Gregg was killed by 
 the Indians. Six bullets were lodged in his door facing 
 as he entered the door, after being mortally wounded 
 before he reached the block-house. The marauding band 
 of Indians who killed Gregg took away as a captive his 
 wife's sister. Miss Patsy Cox. She was mounted on an 
 Indian pony behind one of the Indian warriors, one of 
 her hands being tied to a cord fastened around the In- 
 dian's body. Her father, Jesse Cox, with the Cooper 
 boys of Howard County, and some other settlers hastily 
 gathered together, quickly started in pursuit. The horse 
 ridden by the Indian w^ho had Miss Cox captive, being 
 overloaded, fell behind the train. When the pursuers 
 came in sight, Miss Cox, with rare daring and presence 
 of mind, snatched the Indian's hunting knife from the 
 scabbard, cut the cord which bound her other hand, 
 and slid safely off the horse and into the arms of her 
 father and friends. 
 
 Jesse Cox, with his family and the widow of William 
 Gregg, moved to Lafayette County, leaving behind what 
 seemed to them a house of tragedy. Meantime, Jerry 
 Leek, Fred Hartgrove and Henry Becknell, successively, 
 conducted a ferry at Arrow Rock but lived at Cooper's 
 Fort on the opposite side of the river. Henry Becknell 
 was the ferryman when his brother William crossed 
 there in 1821 on his way to Santa Fe. 
 
 In 1819, Major Long's expedition, sent out by the gov- 
 ernment, passed up the river in the first steamboat which 
 ever ascended as far as Arrow Rock, and the second 
 steamer to attempt the navigation of the Missouri river. 
 
 24 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Major Long stopped at Arrow Rock and admired the 
 old Indian village. The same year emigration began 
 to pour in. A land office was opened at Franklin in 1818. 
 Charles Carroll, a relative, I think of Charles Carroll 
 of Carrollton, who signed the Declaration of Indepen- 
 dence, was the first Register of the Land Office, while 
 General Thomas A. Smith w^as Receiver. 
 
 General Thomas A. Smith was a native of Essex 
 County, Virginia. He entered the United States Army 
 in 1800, as ensign, was promoted to a captaincy in 1806, 
 and was made a Brigadier General in 1814. He mar- 
 ried a sister of Judge Hugh L. White, of Tennessee, who 
 was once a candidate for President of the United States. 
 General Thomas A. Smith afterwards moved to Saline 
 County, and entered a large body of land near Napton, 
 Mo., and named the place ''Experiment Farm." He 
 died there in 1844. His grand-children yet own practi- 
 cally all of the truly baronial estate which he settled by 
 entry. 
 
 About this time came also Asa Finley, Saunders Town- 
 send, Richard Marshall, Peyton Nowlin, Dr. John Sap- 
 pington and his son, Wm. B. Sappington. A few years 
 later came Andrew Brownlee, John Bingham, Burton 
 Lawless, Bradford Lawless, Rudolph Hawpe, Beverly 
 Tucker, Meredith M. Marmaduke, Joseph and Benjamin 
 Huston, and Dr. George Penn, a brother-in-law of Gen. 
 Thomas A. Smith. Dr. Penn was later Assistant Treas- 
 urer of the United States at St. Louis. 
 
 Several of these pioneers were still living when I came 
 to Saline County in 1865. I have also heard interesting 
 stories of some of those w^ho died before I came to the 
 town. 
 
 25 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 HENRY NAVE, THE FIRST WHITE SETTLER IN 
 SALINE COUNTY. 
 
 This story was related to me by Hanry Nave, who em- 
 igrated from Tennessee and settled in Cox's Bottom, 
 above Arrow Rock, in 181B. He came overland in a 
 wagon and arrived at Cooper's fort, across the river 
 from Arrow Rock, about the first of December. Cooper, 
 a total stranger to the new-comer, took Nave and his 
 wife into the fort, and a child was born to Mrs. Nave 
 a few days after. She received the hospitality of the 
 fort, and the kind ministrations of Mrs. Cooper without 
 the thought of pay. 
 
 Mr. Nave was a large, powerful man, with tremen- 
 dous chest, and superb muscular development. He lived 
 to be more than 90 years of age, and died on his farm 
 about six miles from Arrow Rock, near the home of his 
 brother Isaac, who, however, spelled his name Neff. 
 
 Henry Nave decided to settle in the bottom, on the 
 Saline county side of the river, opposite the fort. On 
 Christmas day, the 25th of December, 181B, he secured 
 two canoes, lashed them together, uncoupled his wagon, 
 took the hind wheels and axle over at one trip, the fore 
 wheels and tongue at another ; then in successive trips, 
 he ferried over the wagon bed and it contents. He se- 
 lected a location for his cabin, cut down round poles for 
 the walls, the rafters and joists for his frame- work, 
 split out boards from a large tree for his roof, and punch- 
 eons for his floor. He found some large, flat stones, out 
 of which he built his fire-place and hearth. The chim- 
 ney was built of wood and the stones were placed inside 
 as a lining, in the absence of the modern fire-brick. 
 
 About the time he had his house covered and the chim- 
 ney erected, the weather turned very cold. The freezing 
 weather made it impossible for him to make up in the 
 open the "mud mortar," used by the early pioneers for 
 the purpose of ''chinking" the walls to keep out the cold, 
 and of lining the chimney inside and outside with mud, 
 as was necessary. He therefore built a fire in the mid- 
 26 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 die of the cabin, by which, means he thawed the earth 
 underneath the fire. Then he dug up the earth near his 
 fire and made his mortar inside ; daubed the cracks in the 
 wall, and lined the chimney with mortar, working from 
 the inside. He then laid down his straight log joists and 
 on them laid the slabs which made his puncheon floor, 
 smoothing and evening up the surface with his adze and 
 squaring the edges of the puncheons so that they fitted 
 neatly and closely together. After relating this to me in 
 a more intelligent manner than I am able to describe it 
 at this late day, the old man remarked : ' ' And it was 
 not many days until we were living comfortably and 
 snugly in our cabin, and in good health and with fine 
 appetites." 
 
 The new-comer then cleared off timber, ''deadened" 
 large trees, and planted a crop. He and his family lived 
 mainly on the game procured by his rifle, on corn bread 
 and hominy made of corn procured from older settlers 
 across the river. Deer, bear, wild turkeys and other 
 game were plentiful. 
 
 Mr. Nave enlarged his field from year to year. New 
 comers from Tennessee, old acquaintances and kinsfolk, 
 came in and settled around him and he began to live 
 in abundance and even luxury, except that he began to 
 sigh for the good old bacon, "side-meats," hams, fresh 
 lard and sausages for which the flavor of wild game was 
 not a satisfactory substitute. But no hogs were to be had 
 in his vicinity. He heard, however, of a man down in 
 Callaway, who owned some hogs and he determined to 
 visit him and endeavor to buy a few hogs as the founda- 
 tion of a herd. He crossed the river, and found the man 
 who owned the hogs. He was invited to remain over 
 night, and was entertained with true pioneer hospitality. 
 His host was willing to sell a few hogs, but his wife at 
 once interposed, objecting that they had no hogs to spare. 
 In the course of the conversation around the fireside, 
 Mr. Nave had occasion to make mention of a side-saddle 
 owned by Mrs. Nave. The lady of the house at once be- 
 came interested and promptly proposed to consent to the 
 sale of a couple of "shoats," provided Mr. Nave would 
 give his wife's side-saddle in exchange for them. Mr. 
 Nave gladly agreed to the trade and the owner deliv- 
 
 27 
 
Along the Old Trcdl. 
 
 ered two promising young porkers to him, upon Ms 
 promise to return and deliver the saddle, which promise 
 was faithfully fulfilled. How Mr. Nave arranged mat- 
 ters with his wife, deponent knoweth not. 
 
 Hog cholera was unknown at this early day, land Mr. 
 Nave's two pigs became the founders of quite an at- 
 tractive herd of porkers. He built a secure lot to hold 
 them, and after they became accustomed to their new 
 home, they were turned out by day to feed upon ' ' mast, ' ' 
 the acorns from the forest oaks which grew in great 
 abundance. Feed was thus abundant and cheap, but the 
 prowling wolves gave him great anxiety by their in- 
 cursions at night, when they made frequent attempts to 
 carry off young pigs. The pioneer and his trusty dogs 
 were often called out to repel a night attack. 
 
 With an abundance of range and cribs filled with corn, 
 the hog crop increased rapidly. Mr. Nave butchered a 
 large number one season, several years after his first 
 purchase, but found no demand for his bacon, his neigh- 
 bors by this time having bacon of their own raising. He 
 and a neighbor determined to build a boat and float the 
 bacon down the river to St. Louis, hoping to find a mar- 
 ket for it there. They arrived in the course of time in 
 St. Louis, then but a small village. The neighbor re- 
 mained with the boat and cargo, while Mr. Nave, taking 
 samples of his product with him, walked upon and down 
 the streets, exhibiting his bacon, and soliciting a buyer. 
 No demand at all. The market was already supplied, 
 and no one needed bacon. 
 
 They met a stranger who told them he believed they 
 might find a market for their bacon at the lead mines, 
 down the Mississippi, and not many miles from the river. 
 Accordingly the two pioneer pork packers weighed an- 
 chor and drifted down the river, to a point near the 
 mines, when Mr. Nave set out on foot to find the lead 
 mines and endeavor to make a sale of their bacon. The 
 name of the mine, as I remember his story, was ''Mine 
 a 'Burton," a French name. The mine was probably 
 owned and operated by the French. They found there 
 purchasers for their bacon and at very profitable prices. 
 Having disposed of their meat, they sold their boat at a 
 nominal price, and, with some precious and hard-earned 
 
 28 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 money in their pockets, cheerfully trudged back through 
 St. Louis and on up the Missouri to Arrow Rock. 
 
 The story is easy to relate, and Mr. Nave took great 
 delight in repeating the narative. But think of the hard- 
 ships endured by these rugged old fore^fathers of the 
 State. We talk of enterprise and initiative in these lat- 
 ter days of the railroad, the motor car, and huge indus- 
 trial enterprises ! Yet how many of the sons of these 
 noble sires would now cheerfully endure the hardships, 
 the privations and the heroic endeavor which were so 
 large a part in the conquering of this wilderness, to 
 which we have fallen heir? 
 
 Have we yet among us those who might, on occasion 
 emulate the heroic tasks of the early pioneers, with 
 equal courage and optimism ? Have our younger gener- 
 ation the physical courage and endurance of their sires, 
 and equal fitness for great tasks ? 
 
 ''Uncle Henry Nave," as he was called at a later day, 
 was the first permanent white settler in Saline county! 
 He came as a pioneer and home-seeker before the Santa 
 Fe trail was thought of. He lived almost within sight of 
 the trail from the time the first wagon train passed over 
 it, until long after the last one had faded into the west- 
 ern plains and into history ! He was never a freighter, 
 but he holds a record for shipment of bacon, for he 
 made a shipment from Arrow Rock, which ''broke the 
 market" in St. Louis, and with indomitable optimism 
 and energy, he was able to find a market elsewhere. 
 
 29 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 THE HUSTONS AMONG THE PIONEERS. 
 
 Benjamin Huston was a brother of Judge Joseph 
 Huston, and one of the commissioners who laid off the 
 town of Arrow Eock in 1829. He lived three miles west 
 of town on a farm he entered and improved, where he 
 raised a large family of children, principally daughters. 
 He was a large and well formed old gentleman, with par- 
 ticularly bright, dark eyes; modest, gentle and hospit- 
 able. I never heard him uttter a sentence which might 
 not properly have been spoken in the presence of ladies, 
 and he did not relish coarse language in others. His 
 two sons, Nicholas and Henry, were also large men, and 
 both great hunters when wild game was plentiful. Judge 
 Henry Huston is yet living in the town his father helped 
 to found, and in many ways resembles his father. 
 
 Nick told me that when he and Henry were boys, the 
 ''draw" which passed through his father's farm had 
 small pools along its course in which he and Henry 
 caught abundance of fish, thus confirming a similar 
 statement in an article of Judge Napton's. The little 
 streamlet which made the pools was filled with drift 
 fifty years ago, and the plow now passes over where the 
 streamlet ran and the fish were caught. Nick also told 
 me of some fun he and Henry had when lads. They had 
 seen slim, tall saplings cut down for firewood, and had 
 philosophised that if they could be in the top of one as 
 it swung gracefully towards the earth it would be a 
 splendid ride. Nick, very generously proposed that if 
 Henry would climb to the top of one he would cut it 
 down with an axe. Henry climbed as high as the 
 branches would hold him and waited. Pretty soon the 
 sapling trembled and began to fall, very gently at first, 
 but speeding down faster towards the last. The ride 
 was all right, but stopping so suddenly gave some pain, 
 which would have killed any other boy except one of 
 the Hustons or Townsends. 
 
 Andrew Brownlee was a neighbor of Benjamin Hus- 
 ton, and spent his long life, as did Mr. Huston, on the 
 
 30 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 land he first improved. He told me he built the first 
 house ever erected in Arrow Rock, in 1830, I think. He 
 was honest, good-humored old gentleman, well contented 
 to make a comfortable support for himself and chil- 
 dren; being like most of these old settlers, not at all 
 concerned in making a fortune. After his death at a 
 ripe old age, it was discovered that he had no deed on 
 record to the farm on which he had spent his life. 
 Searching in a bureau drawer the deed was found; it 
 having been executed by Benjamin Huston, who prob- 
 ably entered it. In these shaky days of deeds of trust 
 and abstracts such a fact would be remarkable. Mrs. 
 Larkin Reynolds, a daughter of his, now lives in the 
 town where her father erected the first house. 
 
 TWO OLD TIME ARROW ROCKERS. 
 
 Over three-quarters of a century ago, two boys were 
 boipi, one in 1827 in Arrow Rock, and the other two 
 miles away, in 1831, who performed some creditable work 
 in their day, and whose influence has survived them, and 
 still persists. A history of their lives is inter-related 
 with the history of the community in which they lived 
 and died. Neither ever received more than the rudi- 
 mentary education afforded by the country schools of 
 that early day, and neither was ever very robust physi- 
 cally; but they had common sense, integrity, force, and 
 experience, more potent than schooling and brawn. 
 
 Will H. Wood began life as a traveling salesman, mak- 
 ing the rounds on horseback, with a stock of Dr. John 
 Sappington's quinine pills, carrying and delivering the 
 pills as he sold them. He met disaster on his first trip, 
 crossing "102" river, in Nodaway county, dropping his 
 saddle-bags in the stream, much to the damage of his 
 stock in trade. The business was not suited to him, and 
 he next entered the employment of Dr. W. Lewis Boyer, 
 a merchant, and first cashier of the branch bank of the 
 State of Missouri, at Arrow Rock. He soon after en- 
 gaged in business on his own account, and in 1859 he and 
 Joseph Huston formed the partnership which was only 
 dissolved by death. 
 
 31 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Joseph Huston, in 1850, left his father's store and 
 joined the gold seekers in their rush to California. He 
 returned the following year, and with John C. Thomp- 
 son, Sr. as partner, engaged in general merchandise. 
 They were remarkably prosperous for a few years, when 
 Huston bought his partner's interest, and continued the 
 business alone until 1859, when the partnership with 
 Wood was formecj. 
 
 But it was not to be easy sailing with the new firm of 
 Wood & Huston, or the individuals composing it, as this 
 narrative will disclose. 
 
 In the spring of 1861 the war broke out, bringing with 
 it distressing financial and local conditions. Soldiers, 
 organized as State militia on the Federal side, were 
 stationed at times in Arrow Rock, Marshall, and other 
 towns in the country ; and what were known as ' ' bush- 
 whackers" of the southern party skirmished through the 
 country during the years 1862, '63 and '64. Neither 
 were of material benefit to the cause they espoused, and 
 both added to the bitterness of feeling engendered by 
 the war. Peaceable citizens were liable to arrest and 
 imprisonment for the slightest favor or sympathy shown 
 to "rebels," causing retaliation in kind from the oppos- 
 ing partisans. Neither side was very friendly to the 
 owner of merchandise they wanted, and the politics of 
 a good saddle-horse was always objectionable to both. 
 Merchants held their goods at their peril, and, of course, 
 business was in a chaotic condition. 
 
 Wood & Huston owned the warehouse at the river, 
 and a large lot of freight, principally hemp, had accum- 
 ulated, because only now and then a steamboat ven- 
 tured up the river. One arrived at the wharf in 1864, 
 and the firm made haste to ship out the freight. The cargo 
 was being loaded when the warehouse caught on fire, 
 probably from the smoke stack, and in a few minutes 
 the building and its contents were destroyed. Prevailing 
 conditions had made insurance impossible, and the firm's 
 loss was large and serious. 
 
 In the winter of 1864-65 a company of State militia 
 was quartered in the town, down the street from Wood 
 & Huston's; but its captain had, with canny caution, 
 placed his flag over the firm's two-story store building. 
 
 32 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 A band of bushwhackers, headed by Tood and Yeager, 
 entered the town at night, bent on exterminating the 
 militia, and seeing the flag, naturally supposed the mili- 
 tia were quartered in the store building. They fired 
 several volleys at the store and finally set it on fire, ex- 
 pecting to dislodge the enemy. A fight occurred, and 
 Yeager was wounded. Dr. J. N. Dunlap, later of Miami, 
 a resident physician, was called to dress Yeager 's 
 wounds, and this slight exercise of his humane art placed 
 him in danger from the militia, so bitter was the feeling, 
 compelling him to leave the country. He went to Can- 
 ada, and Joseph Huston and family accompanied him, 
 the two families spending the winter in a small house in 
 Ingersoll, Canada West, which they occupied jointly. 
 
 The firm had invested a portion of its meager capital 
 in the purchase of a one-fourth interest in a steamboat, 
 to ply between St. Louis and Fort Benton, Montana, Mr. 
 Wood embarking as first mate. The boat caught fire on 
 its second trip and the officers were compelled to run it 
 ashore and '^scuttle" it. Three fires in less than a year! 
 
 The firm had conducted its business largely on credit. 
 Their books were burned ; unsettled conditions made col- 
 lections impossible, and very few of their outstanding ac- 
 counts were ever paid. The war settled old scores; the 
 merchant and his customer had to start afresh when the 
 war was over. 
 
 The violence prevailing was so intense that the two 
 partners had decided to ''cache" their small capital, 
 which they had converted into gold coin, and secretly, 
 at night, buried it on the farm of the father of Mr. 
 Wood, just before Huston went to Canada and Wood to 
 St. Louis, both to remain until conditions were more set- 
 tled. 
 
 At the close of the war, in 1865, they prepared to re- 
 turn. After meeting in St. Louis, it was agreed that 
 Mr. Huston should return to Arrow Rock, dig up the 
 gold and prepare for opening, Mr. Wood to remain and 
 purchase the goods. A few days later Wood stood on 
 the lower deck of a steamboat, landing at Arrow Rock, 
 eagerly looking for his partner; but he w^as not at the 
 gangplank as he expected. Mr. Wood found him away 
 back on the wharf, and saw at once that something was 
 
 33 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 wrong. Following a gloomy greeting, Mr. Huston re- 
 marked, "Well, its all gone!" No occasion to ask what 
 was gone ! All their little capital, evidently ! Mr. Hus- 
 ton, had searched in vain and failed to find the money ! 
 
 Mr. Wood was hopeful and sure the gold would yet 
 be found, after more diligent search. Mr. Huston was 
 equally sure it would be useless. It was agreed, however, 
 to begin the search anew early next morning, and dig in 
 the field where the gold had been buried. They took 
 with them ''John" and Nelse," two trusty old servants, 
 well-known in Arrow Rock. They worked till noon with 
 no reward. A stop was made for lunch — for "John" 
 and "Nelse." The partners had a plenty, and were not 
 hungry. The two workmen ate a hearty meal, and 
 * ' Nelse, ' ' closing his knife with a bang, said : ' ' Now I 'se 
 had my dinner I'm gwine to find that money," and al- 
 most at the first stroke he touched a solid substance 
 which proved to be the pot of gold. 
 
 With their small treasure recovered, the firm of Wood 
 & Huston erected a salesroom over the ruins of their old 
 store, and resumed business under rather dismal con- 
 ditions. 
 
 During the war, hemp had been superseded by jute 
 and iron ties for baling cotton. Stock growing had never 
 been largely entered into, and wheat was not supposed 
 to be a profitable crop, nor even adapted to the soil of 
 Saline. The negroes were freed, and the former owner 
 not well trained to hard labor. Farms and fences were 
 neglected, the roads in miserable condition, and the peo- 
 ple without capital and discouraged. The bank at Arrow 
 Rock, with only $5,000 capital and less than $50,000 de- 
 posits, was the only bank in the county. That fact alone 
 explains the scarcity of money. 
 
 Right here was a turning point in the history of the 
 firm, and of farming conditions in Saline. Hemp grow- 
 ing did not require modern machinery, and little had 
 ever been used in the county. The old Missouri, with 
 its economies was passing out ; the new Missouri was at 
 the threshold, requiring new methods. After consulting 
 their farmer friends, it was decided by the partners to 
 buy and introduce implements necessary for the growing 
 and harvesting of wheat, and for cultivating corn on a 
 
 34 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 large scale, preparatory to the feeding of beef cattle and 
 hogs. To do this successfully required an extensive use 
 of the firm's credit, which was based mainly on its busi- 
 ness skill and integrity, backed by the well-known fer- 
 tility of Saline soil, and the solvency of the farmers who 
 owned it. 
 
 The firm did not hesitate, but bought the new-fangled 
 tools, and the farmers began to wrestle with them — not 
 only bought them, but sold them on twelve months' time. 
 Alt no time in its history did the firm strike out more 
 boldly or exhibit more far-seeking business judgment. 
 There were no precedents to follow; but they took the 
 risk, and they and the farmers won. 
 
 By the end of 1865 a little money began to come in 
 from live stock shipped to market by steamer. Many a 
 discouraged farmer was inspired with hope, and went 
 to work with a will. 
 
 Wood & Huston knew personally every one of their 
 customers, and took an interest in their customers' wel- 
 fare, as well as their own. Every survivor of that impor- 
 tant period will testify to that. Holding the funnel — the 
 warehouse at the landing through which poured all sur- 
 plus products of a very large territory, they speculated 
 in none of it; but on the contrary gave the shipper the 
 advantage of their knowledge of freights and markets, 
 when he did not accompany his shipment himself. 
 
 They did not permit an imprudent man to involve 
 himself with them. They extended credit to the man 
 who would be benefitted by it. I do not believe there is 
 an instance of any man's property being sold out or 
 put in jeopardy by that firm during its career in Arrow 
 Rock. It is a pleasant thing to say of men who made 
 money that those they dealt with also profited. Such a 
 condition is always possible, and marks the dividing line 
 between legitimate exchange and sordid "graft." It is 
 safe to say that no other firm in central Missouri took 
 a more important and helpful part in the general recon- 
 struction then going on all over the State. 
 
 By the end of 1866, income from the farms was notice- 
 ably increasing, and in 1867 or 1868 there was the lar- 
 gest and best crop of wheat harvested which the Arrow 
 Rock district had ever known. It sold for about $2.50 
 
 35 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 per bushel," "Greenback," yielding more money per 
 acre than the owner asked for his land. This was a 
 great lift, enabling the farmer to pay the merchant, and 
 the merchants to pay the dealer. 
 
 The partners remained successfully and extensively in 
 business until 1870, when foreseeing the decline in the 
 trade of the river towns, they sold out the mercantile and 
 warehouse business to Dr. F. R. Durrett. Will H. Wood 
 remained in Arrow Rock, being connected for a time with 
 the Bank of Arrow Rock, while Joseph Huston removed 
 to a farm he owned some eight miles southeast of Mar- 
 shall. But the partners were not long separated. In 
 1873, they arranged to open a private banking house in 
 Marshall, and began the erection of a new bank building. 
 The bank was opened in February, 1874. The handsome 
 building now occupied by the Wood & Huston Bank oc- 
 cupies the old site, the old building having been torn 
 down to make place for a larger and statelier structure. 
 
 Will H. Wood and Joseph Huston were men of widely 
 different characteristics. Yet they were both of pioneer 
 blood, and in different ways happily exemplified the type 
 of men who conquered the wilderness, and made the 
 comforts and culture of our day possible for their de- 
 scendents. These two men seemed to be natural allies, 
 and their native talents seemed to supplement their mu- 
 tual needs in a remarkable manner. 
 
 Will H. Wood was in many ways a remarkable man. 
 He was so open, candid and friendly himself that his 
 friends, in turn, confided to him almost everything they 
 knew. Without leaving town he could make an inven- 
 tory of all his customers owned and the amount of their 
 debts. He could eome back from St. Louis bringing 
 knowledge with him, obtained from dealers in the city, 
 and on the trip down and back, of what was going on at 
 Cambridge, Miami and Lexington. Without his med- 
 dling or prying, people naturally told him the things he 
 needed to know, and this knowledge he used not only 
 for his own advantage, but for the benefit of his custo- 
 mers, in sensible and timely suggestions. The cares of 
 business seemed to rest lightly on his shoulders, and he 
 enjoyed making money much as a boy loves to play base- 
 ball — for the pleasure of winning. He possessed a genius 
 
 36 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 for affairs, and his dealings were always above board and 
 square. There was not a sneaking bone in his body. 
 Children liked him, and I have known him to take a 
 lot of little girls on a steamboat to Lexington, bringing 
 them back to their mothers the next day, a happy crew. 
 He was impressive, popular and by nature a leader 
 among men. 
 
 Joseph Huston was the more experienced and meth- 
 odical business man of the two. He was always steady, 
 industrious, quiet and a lover of home — as nearly the 
 same man every day of his life as one ever meets. He 
 was hardly entitled to credit for being honest — he 
 couldn't help it. I do not remember to have ever heard 
 a transaction of his criticized unfavorably. Mr. Wood 
 called him his balance wheel, and he was. He was a firm 
 friend to his friends, without making any loud profes- 
 sions of it. 
 
 It is not a matter of wonder that two such men, agree- 
 ing perfectly as they did, should have prospered together, 
 and been useful to their friends. 
 
 Doing business next door to them, an apprentice in 
 merchandising and a total stranger when I came to 
 Arrow Rock, a part of my stock competing with theirs, 
 they and my good friend Mrs. Stein, the milliner, were 
 more helpful and generous with me than all the other 
 firms in the town. I have a right to speak warmly of 
 them. 
 
 37 
 
Along the Old Trcdl. 
 
 JACKSON LOVED TO TELL STORIES ABOUT 
 THE BIG MUDDY. 
 
 Governor Claiborne F. Jackson was one of the early 
 merchants of Arrow Rock. In his day, when the spring 
 stock of goods was to he purchased in Philadelphia, then 
 the great wholesale city, the dealers had to start in Feb- 
 ruary, and stage it to Pittsburg, generally, as the ice 
 prevented travel by water at that season. The journey 
 was long and tedious, and they would arrange to meet 
 and travel in company. 
 
 On one of these occasions a jolly lot of merchants were 
 in the coach. Jackson, from Arrow Rock, a Glasgow 
 merchant, and one or two from Boonville, when a local 
 passenger got on board away out in Indiana or Ohio. 
 
 He soon learned his fellow-travelers were from the Mis- 
 souri river country, and began to make inquiries. Among 
 other things he wanted to know if there was good fishing 
 in the Missouri river. 
 
 Jackson at once began to praise the river for its abun- 
 dant supply of fish, and remarked that fish weighing 
 two hundred pounds had been caught from the river. 
 (I have seen a fish caught at Arrow Rock which weighed 
 160 pounds, and catfish weighing 200 pounds have been 
 caught. ) 
 
 The stranger showed that he found it a little hard to 
 swallow a fish story of that size, and Jackson, observing 
 it, appealed to his friend from Glasgow. Glasgow looked 
 serious, and said he had lived on the river all his life, and 
 had fished a good deal, but he had never seen or heard 
 of a fish anything resembling that in size. Of course, 
 down at Arrow Rock, some twelve miles below, fish might 
 be much larger. 
 
 Jackson, irritated, appealed to Boonville. Well, Boon- 
 ville replied, there may have been such fish caught up 
 the river, some miles above, at Arrow Rock, but down 
 at Boonville a fish weighing fifteen or twenty pounds 
 was called a whopper. 
 
 38 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 It was in vain that Jackson called them liars, and 
 asserted that they knew he was telling the truth. They 
 continued to look serious, and plead ignorance of ever 
 having heard of any such fish as that. They could not 
 tell a lie, even to accommodate a friend. At both places 
 a fish weighing twenty pounds was called very large. 
 
 The stranger left the coach soon after, believing he 
 had met a rival of Jonah's, in company with some very 
 conscientious gentlemen from the Missouri river country. 
 
 It can be imagined how that lot of wags '^celebrated" 
 and laughed at Jackson. But Governor Jackson in his 
 young days was an experienced joker himself, and, un- 
 like his friend, Henry Miller, could take one when he 
 was the victim. 
 
 A TRAGEDY AT ARROW ROCK. 
 
 In the Old Tavern in the old town on the river, ever 
 so many years ago (about 1850), dwelt a family of well- 
 to-do people of refined and gentle breeding, living pros- 
 perously with kin, friends and neighbors around them. 
 Out of a number of daughters one was happily married 
 and the mother of two children, the youngest six weeks 
 old. She was a sweet, gentle character, loving and be- 
 loved by all who knew her. She was in weakened health, 
 and the life of her young child had been maintained at 
 the expense of her vitality — ^that wonderful tribute of 
 motherhood to the preservation of the race. 
 
 One winter night a young lady friend had remained 
 in the room with her in the dual capacity of companion 
 and nurse. The mother was awakened by the restless- 
 ness of her child, and arose and ministered to its wants, 
 rocking it to sleep in its cradle, then, passing into 
 an adjoining room, presumably to speak to her mother, 
 she disappeared from mortal sight. 
 
 The alarm was soon given, but all search was in vain. 
 She had gone out into the wintry night, leaving her 
 warm room, as shown by her tracks in the gently falling 
 snow. The trail led to the river a quarter of a mile 
 away, and on the margin of the remorseless old Missouri 
 the trail of the advancing foot-prints ended. 
 
 39 
 
Along the Old Trml. 
 
 So far as was ever known she was sane, a liappy moth- 
 er, and contented with her lot in life. Insanity was not an 
 inheritance from any ancestor or near relative. The pa- 
 thetic little foot-prints on the brink of the river fur- 
 nished the only clue to the tragedy which will ever be 
 disclosed. In the morning the same swift river was flow- 
 ing by, but not the same water ; that which had engulfed 
 her had passed on, like herself, never to return. 
 
 What strange lure was it that moved her to the dark, 
 swift water? A sleep-walker would have been aroused 
 by the shock of cold snow on bare feet. She had just 
 lulled to sleep the baby she loved. Did some old Indian 
 prophet arise from his long slumber and woo her to the 
 Redman's paradise and happy hunting grounds? Did 
 the water nymphs call her, and win her pure spirit to 
 their chambers in the deep ? Did some sudden hallucina- 
 tion seize her, calling her away to the strains of heav- 
 enly music, so that, with eyes unlifted and entranced, 
 she followed to her doom ? Did the good God in Heaven 
 call her to Himself, sparing her some great sorrow which 
 only He could foresee? 
 
 This singular tragedy occurred at Arrow Rock sixty 
 years ago. The two children referred to above are now 
 aged men, one living in an adjoining State and one in 
 Saline county. ''Truth is stranger than fiction." 
 
 AN OLD TRAPPER AND A QUEER WEDDING. 
 
 I was merchandising in Arrow Rock along in the '70s, 
 and one morning John Benoist came to me and asked 
 if I would object to having a marriage ceremony per- 
 formed in my store. He was proposing to marry Mrs. 
 Cramer, a widow, then sitting on a stool in the house. 
 I consented, and John went out to find Rev. Warren 
 Compton, a resident minister, to perform the ceremony. 
 
 John was the son of Antoine Benoist, (he pronounced 
 it ben-wa), one of the few remaining old French-Cana- 
 dian trappers who had spent their lives on the upper 
 waters of the Missouri, under the charge of some fur 
 
 40 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 company, who furnished them traps and grub-stake, 
 buying from them the pelts they secured, at some nom- 
 inal price — it did not matter how much, for they soon 
 spent it — , and who idled the summers away among the 
 Indian tribes until the season would come around again 
 for trapping. Benoist (senior) was perhaps seventy 
 years old, a handsome, brown-complexioned, dark-eyed, 
 chubby old man, the picture of good health and good 
 humor. He would appear in Arrow Rock at different 
 times during my stay there, and I would hear that he 
 had stopped at some vacant cabin in the bottom, where 
 he lived a gently predatory life until it was time for him 
 to withdraw, and stroll with his small belongings to an- 
 other similar dwelling in some other bottom, where he 
 made as valuable a citizen for a while as he had been 
 elsewhere. There was really no harm in the gentle old 
 man. His ideas of "mine" and "thine" were about as 
 well-defined as those of the Indians with whom he had 
 roamed, or of a child five years old. He had never done 
 any regular work, and had no fancy for any ; but he was 
 always jolly and happy, with a never failing appetite 
 for solids or liquids — quantity considered before quality. 
 
 But the marriage. Brother Compton had arrived, and 
 a hint being given that a wedding was toward, a little 
 company had assembled and were waiting, old man Ben- 
 oist among them. The large heating stove between the 
 counters was yet standing, although it was spring; and 
 when Mr. Compton came in, John, very ill at ease, 
 walked to where Mrs. Cramer was trying to put on a 
 pair of white cotton gloves, and when the last glove was 
 only one-half on, joined hands with her and stood at "at- 
 tention"; the stove between them and the parson. 
 
 Seeing the difficulty, with my usual alacrity and pres- 
 ence of mind, I got behind the couple and gently but 
 firml}^ pushed them forward and around the stove; and 
 the ceremony was soon over. The little company came 
 forward, shook hands with and congratulated the newly- 
 weds, who started home happy. The company left ; Ben- 
 oist, senior, passing out smiling. 
 
 "While the ceremony was being performed, old man 
 Benoist had seated himself on the end of a counter by 
 the side of a basket of eggs. When all were gone out, 
 
 41 
 
Along the Old Tradl. 
 
 Ed Mitchell, then my boy clerk, came to me with his nose 
 turned up (his nose was not then so roamin', and could 
 turn up), and said: ''Old man Benoist sucked four 
 eg^s while John was being married, and threw the shells 
 behind the counter" — a precedent for future great 
 statesmen. His meal was the shorter because the cere- 
 mony was not longer. Ed, having some experience, was 
 watching while all other eyes but his and the old man's 
 were on the bridal pair. Opportunity had tapped at 
 Benoist 's door, and he had to respond. He knew the 
 present mayor of Marshall would not dare to raise a dis- 
 turbance and stop the ceremony. 
 
 Falstaff's lieutenant. Pistol, says: "The world is mine 
 oyster, which I with sword will open." 
 
 The bends of the Missouri, all up and down, were Ben- 
 oist 's principality; his pumpkin-patch and garden, his 
 poultry yard and piggery. He progressed from castle 
 to castle, levying small tributes as he passed — a happier 
 man than Rockefeller; perhaps ^a wiser. I used to try 
 to get him to tell me of his wild life in the mountains, 
 but he never seemed interested. He could speak many 
 Indian dialects, but his mind was not upon yesterday. 
 Today's dinner concerned him more, and although I 
 never say him drunk, he could make tender appeals for 
 a half-dollar to fill his empty flask. 
 
 OLD TIME ARROW ROCK CHARACTERS. 
 
 John Sites, Ed. Miller and Knapp Chase were three 
 of the "institutions" of the town. They were like Fal- 
 stafp, not only witty in themsdves, but the cause of wit 
 in other men." 
 
 John was a gunsmith and "handy" with tools, a phi- 
 losopher, wit, and healer of the infirmities of old guns, 
 clocks, pocket-knives and women's scissors. He may not 
 have been born in Arrow Rock, but if not he was sorry. 
 He believed in the old town. It was located exactly at 
 the right place for any railroad that would cross the Mis- 
 souri river. He found lead under the old hill, and ac- 
 tually dug out some. He would have believed in radium, 
 if it had been discovered in his day. He was good- 
 
 42 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 natured; stammered badly, and when he was^using his ^^o\ 
 mouth-piece as a gateway for profanity, he smoked. He 
 had little use for churches and religion, but he was loyal 
 to his wife, ''Nannie," who was a Campbellite. There 
 was no church of her denomination in town ; but once a 
 year he took her down to Cooper county, where there was 
 an annual protracted meeting of Christians. On one of 
 these occasions, they got after John in such a way that, 
 with Nannie's help, he ''repented," was baptised, and 
 joined the church. 
 
 He came back home, and immediately went around to 
 all his old friends and told them he was beginning a new 
 life, and hoped they would help him to persevere in it. 
 He had none of that embarrassed and guilty countenance 
 which most new converts exhibit when they first meet 
 their old comrades, but he rejoiced in his change and 
 wanted everybody to know it. 
 
 We did not believe it was possible for John to quit 
 both smoking and swearing, as he proposed to do. We 
 thought if he did not smoke he would swear on account 
 of it, and if he did not swear he would have to smoke 
 to console himself. We reasoned that it would be like 
 taking a stimulant and a sedative at the same time, both 
 taking effect in the same system. 
 
 But we were mistaken. I never knew such another 
 change in a man. He stopped swearing; he stopped 
 smoking, and became an active, zealous, missionary 
 Christian to the end of his life. He was largely instru- 
 mental in building and supporting the Christian church 
 at Arrow rock. 
 
 John could not read nor write, but he had strong com- 
 mon sense and a remarkable memory, as most illiterates 
 have. He loved to "argue" the doctrines of his church, 
 and could make many apt quotations from "The Book" 
 which he could not read. If you contended with him, 
 and made other quotations with which he was not famil- 
 iar, he would fire off another citation at you, and then, 
 taking his cane out from under his arm and smothering 
 your voice with loud laughter, would walk off trium- 
 phant. 
 
 They had no children, but Nannie was the apple of 
 his eye, and took kindly to all the petting he bestowed. 
 
 43 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 She was very delicate, though she looked well. They 
 lived only a short block and a half from my store, but 
 often Nannie positively could not walk to it. 
 
 John would hitch his gentle old horse to a buggy, 
 and Nannie would ride down. She was a handsome, tidy 
 lady, but also very timid, so that John would have to 
 lead the horse, to be sure of the safety of his precious 
 freight. She would be all dressed up, and here they 
 would come, John leading and looking admiringly 
 around, as if Nannie were a great pound-cake with icing 
 all over.li- 
 
 A more gallant and devoted husband never lived, and 
 Nannie knew it. She kept his house neatly, did the do- 
 mestic work which John did not voluntarily take off her 
 hands, fed him on diet well prepared, and was a faith- 
 ful, good wife. 
 
 ^ jifc slfe *fe :% 
 
 To recite the practical jokes and tricks which Knapp 
 Chase played off on a suffering population would be te- 
 dious to all except those who knew him and his victims, 
 but I venture upon one. 
 
 Mrs. Chase, a good, pious lady, was the mother of trip- 
 lets, a boy and two girls, all now living and upwards of 
 fifty. "When in the course of time, the stork was again 
 hovering over the Chase mansion, there were ' ' great ex- 
 pectations" and some wagers were made. 
 
 One evening ' ' the wise woman ' ' and a physician were 
 sent for and the town was all agog. Early next morn- 
 ing a curious neighbor was approaching when Knapp 
 came out with a downcast countenance. In a preoccu- 
 pied manner he began to whittle on the plank fence. 
 
 ''What's the news, Knapp?" 
 
 Knapp: (without looking up) ''Awful! Awful!" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 ' ' Four ! Four ! 
 
 Off bolts the neighbor, enlightening his friends. 
 
 Madam Rumor, with eyes aflame, sends out her mes- 
 sengers, and by the time they reached the west end of 
 town there was a whole colony of little Chases. 
 
 But "Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again," and 
 the honest truth disclosed there was only one bare little 
 Chase. 
 
 44 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 As for Ed. Miller, nobody contributed more to the 
 entertainment of the village than he. He was a brother- 
 in-law of John Sites and could mimic John's stammer- 
 ing voice with just enough exaggeration to add humor 
 to the resemblance. No men with a peculiarity of speech, 
 of walk, gesture or countenance, escaped him. He could 
 make a face like theirs and reproduce their every move- 
 ment. Ed. was a born actor and missed his calling by 
 not being a comedian. No attempt at describing the wit 
 of such a man can succeed, and I will not try. 
 
 This life would lose much of its pleasure except for 
 such men as these. We pension other men for killing 
 people. Why don 't we pension those who keep us alive ? 
 Whoever felt melancholy after shaking hands with big 
 Frank Lail, with his cheery smile and his six feet three 
 inches of solid happiness? Every man who knows Bob 
 Irvine begins to laugh as soon as he sees him. He may 
 just as well, for if he don't Bob will proceed to make 
 him laugh. 
 
 SOME PRACTICAL JOKES OF OLD SETTLERS. 
 
 James E. Ancell and Henry Miller came to Arrow 
 Rock early in 1830, I think, from Virginia, and both 
 were fond of practical jokes, though Mr. Miller was par- 
 ticularly sensitive to any such practiced on himself. Mr. 
 Miller was a small, handsomely formed, wiry gentleman, 
 well-bred, and particularly gracious with ladies. Mr. 
 Ancell was a man of few words, serious in his demeanor, 
 with a sly twinkle in his single useful eye. They were 
 partners in merchandise at Arrow Rock during the war. 
 
 Mr. Miller had been a Santa Fe Trader, as had his old 
 friend. Uncle Billy Scott, then living on a farm in Coo- 
 per, near Arrow Rock. During the war Uncle Billy had 
 made a trip to some fort out on the plains, delivering 
 supplies, for which purpose he had a two-horse wagon 
 made by some famous wagon-maker at Boonville, out of 
 selected, seasoned timber. He had returned from his 
 trip, and having no further use for the wagon, he came 
 to Arrow Rock and asked his old friend, Miller, to find 
 
 45 
 
Along the Old Tra/il. 
 
 a buyer for it, giving him a detailed description of the 
 way the wagon was made, of its maker, and of the sin- 
 gle rtrip it had made. 
 
 Mr. Miller posted a written advertisement at his door : 
 * ' Second-hand two-horse wagon for sale ; apply to H. C. 
 Miller." Now and then some one would notice it, and 
 make inquiry of Mr. Miller, who would go into the mat- 
 ter in detail : ' ' This wagon belongs to my friend, Billy 
 Scott, as honest man as lives, whose word is as good as 
 his bond. He had this wagon made at Boonville by 
 (naming the famous wagon-maker) out of selected, seas- 
 oned timber, every stick of which was perfect. It was 
 made on honor, and warranted against shrinkage or any 
 mechanical defect. Mr, Scott has made only one trip 
 
 with it to Fort , not over four hundred miles, over 
 
 a practically level plain, every foot of which I have 
 traveled, and know the road is not difficult. But the cli- 
 mate is dry, and if a wagon is not well seasoned and well 
 made, the tires will loosen, by the shrinkage of the tim- 
 ber. Mr. Scott informs me 'there is not an evidence of 
 weakness in any part of this wagon. It is practically 
 new, and far better than the average new wagon. I 
 know something about these plains, and I know how 
 trying they are on an ill-made wagon. Mr. Scott will 
 sell this wagon at a discount from its first cost, and any 
 man who has a need for a good two-horse wagon misses 
 an opportunity if he fails to buy this one. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Ancell, quietly smoking his pipe, had heard this 
 story repeated so many times and so exactly in the same 
 way, that he knew it by heart. One Saturday morning 
 he went up the street and notified Ed. Miller or Knapp 
 Chase to tell every man who came to town to ask Mr. 
 Miller the particulars of that two-horse wagon he had 
 for sale; not to come all at once, but to drop in one at 
 a time. Mr. Ancell went back to the store and awaited 
 results. One man followed another, and after hearing 
 the story, given carefully and exactly, each would find a 
 seat, until quite an audience was essembled, while Mr. 
 Miller was industriously grinding out his story to each 
 newcomer. There was no laughter, for it was well known 
 that Mr. Miller had a temper, and that a joke on him 
 was no joke at all, in his opinion. Finally, Uncle Phil. 
 
 46 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Edwards, quite an old man, without a team in his barn, 
 or a tooth in his head, came in and asked Mr. Miller to 
 tell him about that two-horse wagon he had for sale. At 
 once Mr. Miller saw a great light. He was being victim- 
 ized. He swore eloquently and volubly at Uncle Phil. 
 He proposed to whip any d — d man who would open his 
 mouth to him about a two-horse wagon. And Mr. An- 
 cell, who had never spoken a word, sat and smoked his 
 pipe solemnly. Had Mr. Miller known he started that 
 rascality, there would have been a sudden dissolution of 
 partnership. But nobody ever betrayed him. In Mr. 
 Miller's opinion, he was the one innocent man. 
 
 This Mr. Ancell was a ''good provider," but he was 
 methodical, and limited his family expenditures to a 
 certain sum each month. He paid cash, and when this 
 sum was expended expenses had to stop until a new 
 month began. On some occasions, when Mrs. Ancell 
 needed some little purchase, the limit had been reached. 
 She told Mr. Ancell she believed if he would tuim over 
 to her the amount he had fixed, she could spend it in 
 such a way as to have plenty. Mr. Ancell turned over 
 to her, at the beginning of the next month, the amount 
 in cash. In a few days Mrs. Ancell needed some sugar. 
 She told Mr. Ancell to send her up some sugar from the 
 grocer's and she would pay for it. Mr. Ancell sent her 
 up one hundred pounds, and she paid. In a few days 
 she needed some flour and asked Mr. Ancell to order 
 it for her. He sent up two hundred pounds. Then she 
 wanted some coffee. (It was all unparched coffee those 
 days.) Mr. Ancell sent her up a sack. Before two weeks 
 were gone Mrs. Ancell was broke — clear out of cash. 
 When Mr. Ancell returned home one evening, she threw 
 the account-book at him, and told him to keep his own 
 accounts. She was done with it. But she did not un- 
 derstand just why her money had gone so rapidly, and 
 the grim old gentleman didn't explain. It was his de- 
 light to bamboozle "Lucy." 
 
 47 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 BROTHER BOBBITT'S ^'EXPERIENCE." 
 
 Tom Dinsmore was an old-timer, with a power of mim- 
 icry which made any joke he related doubly funny. Many 
 old Arrow Rockers will remember him. This is one of 
 his contributions to old time happenings, but told in the 
 absence of Tom Dinsmore 's nasal drawl, imitating Bro. 
 Bobbitt, the story loses much of its point. 
 
 John Bobbitt was a big, rawboned, honest farmer, 
 with a large family, very industrious, and with a high 
 temper aggravated by plowing stumpy land with un- 
 ruly oxen. Owing to his hard swearing he had remained 
 out of the fold of his favorite church, the Hard- Shell 
 Baptists, till past middle life. But during their annual 
 ''association" meeting he became deeply convicted of his 
 sinful life, and offered himself for membership, to the 
 great joy of the faithful among his friends and neigh- 
 bors. 
 
 It was the invariable practice of the Primitive Baptists 
 admitting a member to require him to relate his "ex- 
 perience" before the assembled church, so as to be as- 
 sured of his change of heart. 
 
 Bobbitt was a diffident man, unused to speaking be- 
 fore company, and besides, "talking through his nose" 
 distressingly. At the time appointed for receiving new 
 members he was called upon, in his turn, to stand near 
 the pulpit and relate his experience. 
 
 He walked to the front, and in a low tone, almost in- 
 audible, began : "I dreamed a dream ; I dreamed I was 
 sitting out in my orchard under the shade of an apple 
 tree, and I heard a voice from heaven saying, ' John Bob- 
 bitt, your prayers have been answered, and your soul 
 is saved.' " 
 
 A brother sitting about three seats back, putting his 
 hand to his ear, said, "Will the brother speak a little 
 louder; I failed to hear him distinctly." 
 
 Brother Bobbitt was visibly embarrassed, but he re- 
 peated in a little louder tone. When he was through, 
 another brother, about half-way back, put his hand to 
 
 48 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 his ear, and said, ''I would be glad if the brother would 
 speak a little louder. I did not hear more than half he 
 said." 
 
 Still more embarrassed, and a little irritated. Brother 
 Bobbitt repeated, word for word, but considerably 
 louder. Another brother, on a back seat, and one Broth- 
 er Bobbitt didn't like very well, arose and said, ''If the 
 brother will speak so we can all hear, I will be glad. ' ' 
 
 Brother Bobbitt, now thoroughly enraged, in a voice 
 which he used in the field with his oxen, shouted : "I 
 dreamed a dream ; I dreamed I was sitting out in my or- 
 chard, under the shade of a tree ! And I heard a voice 
 from Heaven saying, 'John Bobbitt! your prayers have 
 been answered and your soul is saved.' Now I reckon 
 you hear that, damn you ! ' ' 
 
 I would not use this uncanny word except that it is 
 essential to the point in the joke. Brother Bobbitt had 
 merely a temporary relapse. He was a good man, and 
 never swore harder than some of the old popes of Eome 
 in their "bulls" against unruly emperors and kings, 
 when they got a little too frisky. 
 
 THE TWO CLERKS OF SIXTY YEARS AGO. 
 
 Sixty years or so ago, Lee Cooper, descended from the 
 famous Colonel James Cooper who came to Missouri 
 with Daniel Boone and built the fort opposite ArroT\ 
 Rock, and Barney Sappington, whose ancestor also came 
 with Boone and Cooper, were "clerking" in different 
 stores in Arrow Rock, both young men and full of mis- 
 chief. 
 
 A customer of the house Lee Cooper was in, a fine, dig- 
 nified old gentleman and a Colonel, who had a big, open 
 fire place at home which served him as a cuspidor, would 
 come into the Cooper store and expectorate tobacco juice 
 on the hearth of the stove, making a mess of it which 
 Cooper would have to correct, clerks in those days be- 
 ing also janitors. 
 
 One day the Colonel came in and repeated his ugly 
 fault, and Cooper, not willing to offend him, went off and 
 asked Barney Sappington to come in and spit on his 
 
 49 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 stove, informing him that he would then give him a good 
 ' ' cussing. ' ' 
 
 Barney agreed to it, came in and spat on the stove. 
 Cooper began on him: "Barney Sappington, where 
 were you raised ? Haven 't you a particle of good man- 
 ners ? Now, just look at that stove ! It will take me an 
 hour to clean it off. Here is a spittoon ; use it or go out 
 into the street. I am disgusted with you ! ' ' 
 
 But there is an affinity between fire and comfortable 
 rumination. The very next time the Colonel came in, 
 he spat on the stove again. 
 
 NICK MOONEY AND THE THREE-STORY 
 RABBIT. 
 
 Nick Mooney lived and died on the farm he owned 
 southeast of Marshall, not far from the scene of one of 
 his early exploits in America. He was then just from 
 the Emerald Isle, young, strong, active and ready for 
 any scrimmage. If any gentleman had pleased to tread 
 on the tail of his coat, or knock a chip off his shoulder, 
 or indulge in any little pleasantry like that, he could im- 
 mediately have entered into a ''discussion" with Mr. 
 Mooney — not that Nick was a bully, but because he was 
 an Irishman and liked to see something going on. 
 
 Nick had found employment with Mr. Lawton, an 
 Englishman and early settler, well liked by his neigh- 
 bors, who lived on a farm about three miles from town, 
 where Frank Kidd now lives, I think. Nick had never 
 seen a deer, but some ''molly-cotton" rabbits had scooted 
 by him, carrying, like little Bo-peep's returning sheep, 
 their tails behind them. 
 
 One windy winter morning it was his task to go out 
 to the corn field, either to husk corn or feed shock fodder 
 to the cattle ; and when he reached it •, he saw some animal 
 standing with its back to him, and its head hidden deep 
 in a shock of corn. The wind was blowing, and the corn 
 fodder rattled so the animal did not hear him, and Nick 
 creeped up stealthily towards what seemed to him a 
 three-story jack rabbit. The rear part its countenance 
 
 50 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 was similar. He jumped upon it, with arms around its 
 neck, and then there was a tussle which was a credit to 
 a native American deer and a bonny lad from old Ire- 
 land. It would have made a modern moving-picture 
 show look like a lot of wax figures in a front window. 
 
 Old hunters know how dangerous it is to approach a 
 wounded deer. It will fight and can fight effectively. 
 Its sharp hoofs will cut like daggers, and no animal is 
 stronger, according to its weight, or quicker. But Nick 
 knew none of these things, and he held on to that little 
 deer until he subdued it ; got his knee on its neck, took 
 out his knife, cut its throat and carried it to the house 
 triumphant. He did not carry much clothing with him, 
 but he did carry some honorable abrasions of the flesh 
 which testified to his hard struggle. The Lawton family 
 and all the neighbors were astonished that Nick came 
 out alive, and the story is yet repeated by the old timers. 
 I have more than once heard Nick tell it in that delight- 
 ful brogue of his, musical as strains from the harp of 
 old Erin. 
 
 MOSE WHITE AND HIS GAME CHICKENS. 
 
 About two miles west and a little south of Marshall 
 stands a large frame dwelling built by Mose White, son 
 of a wealthy and fine old citizen of St. Louis, who came 
 to Saline county over sixty years ago. If it has not 
 been partly dismantled, it is yet the largest dwelling 
 in Saline county. The owner being of a convivial dis- 
 position, it was furnished with a billiard room, and even 
 a bar for serving drinks. Chimneys large enough for 
 a factory sent up smoke from ample fireplaces, for 
 warmth and culinary purposes. A large body of land 
 belonged with the premises, and but one essential for 
 farming was lacking. It was poorly supplied with wa- 
 ter. Water was a liquid with which Mr. White had no 
 intimate acquaintance ; still I think he had a pond for 
 the ignorant dumb beasts. 
 
 Mr. White kept race horses, was very partial to game 
 chickens, and amused himself and friends with matches 
 between champion fighters owned by himself or any 
 
 51 
 
Along tJie Old Trail. 
 
 comer who might choose to contest their fighting quali- 
 ties. 
 
 To conduct such an establishment required compan- 
 ionship and assistance, and White employed ''Dit" 
 Shannon, who was known afterwards in Arrow Rock, 
 Marshall and Blackburn. "Why he was called ''Dit" I 
 do not know, but he had a brother Sam, and "Dit" may 
 have been " ditto. *' 
 
 Mr. White had bought two famous game roosters over 
 north towards Fish Creek, and sent his friend Shannon 
 off on horseback to bring them home. As Dit was return- 
 ing through the then open prairie between the heads of 
 Camp and Cow creeks, a thunder storm came up, and 
 lightning was striking all around him. He got to think- 
 ing about the extremely secular character of his mis- 
 sion and of the horror of being stricken by lightning 
 while carrying those pugilistic chickens. "Thus con- 
 science doth make cowards of us all. ' ' It frightened him, 
 and he turned the roosters loose in the prairie; got off 
 his horse; lay as flat on the grass as his plump body 
 would permit, holding his horse at the full length of 
 the halter until the storm had passed over. The idea of 
 being suddenly presented before St. Peter at the gate 
 with a fighting rooster under each arm was embarrass- 
 ing — and, come to thing of it, if one of those roosters 
 had crowed a few times, it would have been awkward for 
 the good saint himself. It might have been construed 
 as a personal allusion. 
 
 Dit never found the chickens. Their descendants may 
 yet be sending out their shrill clarion of mornings over 
 pn Cow creek. Mr. White went to the bow-wows, as all 
 goo^ roysterers must; and David Anderson, an honest 
 Scotchman, with a good wife, reigns in his stead in what 
 is left of the old mansion. 
 
 52 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 AN EARLY ORATORICAL CONTEST. 
 
 Saline county's capitol migrated several times before 
 it finally settled at Marshall. Courts were held at old 
 Jefferson, at Jonesborough, and at Arrow Rock in turn. 
 
 Jonesborough (now Nap ton) was quite an important 
 point as early as 1824. It contained a store, a mill and 
 a blacksmith shop at that time, and quite a settlement 
 collected around it. One of the first settlers was Walter 
 Adkisson, in 1819. Several others, who afterwards be- 
 came prominent in business, began there. Among them 
 were Williamson P. Howard, who went to St. Louis and 
 became a leading commission merchant; Abram Nave, 
 who went to St. Joseph and made a fortune as a whole- 
 sale groceryman; Dr. George Penn, afterwards a pio- 
 neer physician in Arrow Rock. Ben Townsend, an old 
 merchant of Arrow Rock, and a good man, was a mer- 
 chant's clerk in Jonesborough in 1835. 
 
 Court at Jonesborough was held in a hewed log tavern 
 built on a sloping bank of Salt Fork. I have been told 
 that the basement under the tavern was used as a stable, 
 ''bank-barn" fashion, and that when court day arrived, 
 all the settlers from the surrounding country came in 
 and some of them brought their fine stock for exhibition. 
 Among them was a man who owned a donkey he thought 
 pretty well of, and he secured quarters for him in the 
 basement of the tavern. When the judge was deliver- 
 ing his ''charge" to the grand jury, the donkey on the 
 fioor beneath, hearing the judge's loud voice, concluded 
 to make a few remarks himself, which he did with such 
 force and effect as to completely drown the voice of the 
 representative of the law on the floor above. The judge 
 had to suspend until the orator on the first floor sub- 
 sided. Even in that early day the right of free speech 
 was respected, and there was no arrest for contempt 
 of court. Saline was fortunate in having its donkey 
 in the basement of the court house. He sometimes 
 reaches the second floor and brays from the seat of jus- 
 tice. 
 
 53 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Jonesborough, like Arrow Rock, lias had its ''ups and 
 downs." It faded for a while, after Arrow Rock took 
 its place as a county town. Afterwards it revived again, 
 having, in 1865, a merchant mill and a store, I think, 
 kept by Charles Q. Lewis. The mill having burned down, 
 Lewis moved away, and Philip Leininger for a while 
 held the fort. Philip stood by the old town and kept the 
 fires burning on Vulcan 's altar for over forty years. He 
 saved a nice little fortune in lands, lots, houses, live- 
 stock and interest bearing notes. Some people called him 
 miserly, but they were wrong. He would not have en- 
 joyed spending his fortune, but he did enjoy running 
 around watching it and fussing over it, and keeping it 
 from getting away from him. The occupation prolonged 
 his life, and enabled him to perform many a kind and 
 charitable act. Peace to him. 
 
 Since the building of the Missouri Pacific through 
 Napton, the town has grown and prospered. Surround- 
 ed hy a fine body of land, it will always be a prosperous 
 town. 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE WAR PERIOD. 
 
 The stories here related are not reflections on the cour- 
 age of the actors herein. Most of them afterwards be- 
 came soldiers of the South, acquitting themselves with 
 credit. These stories are intended to show that imaginary 
 dangers, dangers unseen, are more alarming than real 
 ones. 
 
 When the war first began in Missouri, the then Capt. 
 Lyons, with a body of old seasoned U. S. soldiers, came 
 to Boonville on their way to the Wilson's Creek battle- 
 ground. They had no politics, but were trained to obey 
 orders and to fight. 
 
 The boys up in Saline and Cooper took it into their 
 heads to go down there and clean out this little bunch of 
 "Yankees," as they supposedthem to be. About 1,500 
 to 2,000 of them got together, and I think John S. Mar- 
 maduke was nominally their commander. Their arms 
 were single and double barrelled shot guns, pistols, rifles, 
 and perhaps a few corn knives and such things. None 
 
 54 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 of them were cowards, and all knew how to shoot. They 
 went into it expecting to eat 'em alive, and be back home 
 in a day or two. 
 
 They marched off without bag or baggage, and with- 
 out much discipline. When they got to Boonville and 
 were preparing to surround it, without any notice to 
 them whatever, those ill-mannered regulars let loose a 
 whole battery of artillery on them before they even got 
 in shooting distance with their shot guns. The shells 
 came ''t'arin' " through the trees, as one of them told 
 me, in a most reckless way, endangering human life. 
 
 Cannon! No one had said anything to those boys 
 about cannon. It w^as unfair. It was ungentlemanly. 
 Those boys would not have treated a dog that way with- 
 out saying something about it. They were disgusted. 
 They were so mad that most of them took to their heels 
 and started for home, each bunch believing that it was 
 a little remnant left after that dreadful cannonading. 
 They left in about the order they came — every man for 
 himself. 
 
 Will H. Wood was one of these, and he had two broth- 
 ers in the same fight. He told me he came away, bring- 
 ing his armor from the field, and as he was moving along 
 pretty lively, by the time he came to the LaMine river 
 he was hot, tired and very thirsty. He crossed the river, 
 stopped at a cabin near the road, and asked a lady 
 for a drink of water. She came out with a large gourd 
 full, and he drank it up, or down. Then she inquired 
 ' ' What is your name ? " ' ' My name is Wood. ' ' Waving 
 her gourd up the road, the disgusted woman said, ''Go 
 on ! Go on ! You are running slock ! Two more of your 
 name have just passed on!" 
 
 No one enjoyed this better than Will Wood himself. 
 He delighted in telling it. 
 
 ''Wars and rumors of wars" — especially the rumors 
 — were prevailing all over the country after that. One 
 day, soon after this, some one came up from towards 
 Boonville and reported that an immense army, slaying 
 men as it came, was marching up the road towards where 
 Nelson now is. 
 
 "Devil Bill" Staples, who yet lives at Independence, 
 was visiting his uncle, old Col. Staples. Jimmy Thorn- 
 
 55 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ton, a good man, who was afterwards a soldier of tlie 
 South, and his nephew, Peter Reynolds, came over to 
 the home of Col. Staples, bringing the news, and it was 
 decided that it was only the part of prudence for mor- 
 tal men, who valued their lives, to sequestrate themselves 
 until this dreadful army had passed. 
 
 So ''Devil Bill,'' Jimmy and Pete took to the brush. 
 Pete was not very well, and carried a big white bed 
 blanket with him. They stayed out all night. The next 
 morning about daylight they were dodging along a little 
 cowpath, making a reconnoissance, Pete bringing up the 
 rear with the big blanket around him, it being a little 
 cool. 
 
 Jimmy turned around and reproved Pete several times 
 for wearing that conspicuous blanket. After coming to 
 a point where the brush was thin, Jimmy looked around 
 and said, "What is the use of hiding? There goes Peter 
 Reynolds with that great white blanket on him as big 
 as a garden! The Federals can see it a mile" — and 
 Pete had to unwrap. 
 
 Bill said he had grown suspicious that the rumor was a 
 fake, and proposed that he should go to a house in sight 
 of the thicket and learn if the army was coming. It was 
 agreed that he should go out on scout duty. He soon 
 learned that the story was false. He had told the boys 
 he would remain concealed at the house, and when it 
 was safe for them to come out of retirement, he would 
 come to the door and motion them to come in ; otherwise 
 he would wave them back deeper into the woods. 
 
 He kept them out till late evening and then motioned 
 them to come in. The big army never came, but Jimmy 
 and Pete became very hungry while Bill was feasting 
 and laughing at the house. 
 
 If this should meet the eye of my old friend Staples, 
 now way up in the 80s, I hope he will not object to his 
 old nickname. It was not conferred for any meanness 
 of his, but because he could make a dog laugh, telling 
 a joke in that waggish, half -stammering, trembly voice 
 of his. He could recite the ten commandments in his 
 most solemn tone, and you would roar with laughter. 
 
 56 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 FRANK BLAIR'S WARM TIME AT MARSHALL. 
 
 Not long after the skirmish with the bushwackers at 
 Arrow Rock, Frank P. Blair was advertised to speak at 
 Marshall. It will be remembered that in 1866 the people 
 of Missouri were living under the ''Drake" constitu- 
 tion; that every man engaged in the war on the South- 
 ern side, or who had aided or even symphathized with 
 those engaged in it, and who would not take an oath to 
 support the constitution of the United States, and of 
 the State of Missouri, could not hold office, vote, or even 
 preach the gospel. 
 
 As soon as Gen. Blair came home from the war, he at 
 once began to denounce this disfranchisement. He main- 
 tained that the war was over ; that the Condeferates had 
 surrendered in good faith; that they were citizens, pay- 
 ing taxes, and had the same right to vote as any other 
 citizens. A great many good men on the Union side 
 thought as he did, but their voices were stifled by those 
 who professed extreme loyalty. They asserted it would 
 be dangerous for these red-handed rebels to have a voice 
 in ajffairs; that they were traitors and would soon begin 
 another war; that they ought to be thankful to be per- 
 mitted to live in subjection to the rulers of the country 
 they had betrayed. 
 
 Gen. Blair began a canvass of the State in favor of 
 enfranchisement, and had spoken at a number of places 
 before he came to Marshall. Everywhere he appeared 
 threats were made aganist him, and at every point these 
 extremists met him, and often tried to drown his voice 
 with denunciation and clamor. Frank P. Blair was a 
 fighter, easily excited, and perfectly fearless. He dearly 
 loved a ''scrap", and was in his chosen element when one 
 was in sight. He had been notified that at Marshall he 
 would not be permitted to say the things he had uttered 
 elsewhere; and I, with John Webb, came up from Ar- 
 row Rock to hear him. 
 
 A platform in the court house yard, on the south side, 
 was prepared for him, and an audience of perhaps three 
 
 57 
 
Along the Old Trail, 
 
 or four hundred had assembled. The Hon. Wm. H. 
 Letcher sat on the platform with Blair. Mr. Letcher was 
 the mose intellectual man I have ever known intimately. 
 He took a leading part in the preparation of the new 
 State constitution, which supplanted the old ''Drake" 
 constitution, so obnoxious to our early citizens. Mr. Let- 
 cher was a leading member of the constitutional conven- 
 tion which prepared this new constitution for submis- 
 sion to the voters. The new constitution was an emi- 
 nently wise measure, an excellent instrument, which 
 cranks, ''single taxers" and grafters have tried in vain 
 to destroy by "amendment." I hope that the old Mis- 
 sourians will vote 'em down. We need no more "Drake" 
 constitutions. "We need no patch work, Dolly Varden 
 legislation. 
 
 Frank P. Blair was a big, rough-looking, sandy-haired, 
 red-complexioned gentleman, and would remind one who 
 had seen both of Theodore Roosevelt. Blair was not an 
 orator, but delivered his sentences in a bold and em- 
 phatic manner, using none of the usual graces of expres- 
 sion. 
 
 After talking of the war and its results for a few mo- 
 ments, he plunged into his main subject, the Drake con- 
 stitution. He had not gone far in his discourse before 
 he was interrupted. There seemed to be an organized 
 body of men, who stood together not far from the 
 speaker, who would, at every offensive sentence, raise 
 an outcry, and with oaths and epithets try to drown his 
 voice. Blair would stand and wait until they had sub- 
 sided, and then begin and once more pour hot shot into 
 them. This occurred several times, and Blair was grow- 
 ing visibly angry. He finally said to the crowd : "Gen- 
 tlemen, are you going to stand this? Hasn't a man who 
 comes to address you the right of free speech ? Are you 
 going to stand here and let these fellows run over you? 
 I know who they are. These are the men who claim 
 to have been soldiers, but they will not fight. They 
 never did fight. They raided around henroosts, scaring 
 women, killing old men, stealing your roasting-ears from 
 the back of your farms and feeding them to the stolen 
 horses they rode. Clean 'em out ! Go at them ! They 
 won't fight!" 
 
 58 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 This raised such a clamor as a man is not often privi- 
 leged to hear. They kept it np for about five minutes, 
 while old Frank P. Blair stood and glared at them. When 
 he could be heard again, he said : ' ' Men, why don 't you 
 clean these fellows out ? You are not cowards, are you 1 
 If it will help I will come down and lead you ! ' ' 
 
 Half the crowd was standing on piles of brick-bats, 
 a remnant of the court house, which had been burned 
 down. A man I did not know was standing within ten feet 
 of me, on a little mound of bats, jumping up and down 
 and swearing he was ready for a fight, when another 
 man — I have heard it was Sail Aulgur — walked up to 
 him and knocked him clear off his perch. Gun-powder 
 could not have fiashed over that crowd quicker than it 
 got into the game. Brick-bats flew, pistols fired, men 
 ran; but not a word was spoken. I was merely "a, cheil 
 amang ye takin' notes, ' ' knowing nobody but John Webb, 
 and I had no cause to throw bricks at John, but I saw 
 that scrimmage as thoroughly as anybody. I watched 
 the races and looked at Frank Blair. In less than two 
 minutes that war was over. There was only one side 
 to it. Blair folded his arms and watched the perfor- 
 mance as eagerly as a boy would a rabbit chase, with a 
 pleased and gratified expression. There were a number 
 of darkie men in the crowd, who, naturally, having newly 
 arrived at their freedom, were enjoying the row, but tak- 
 ing no part in it except some audible grinning. Nobody 
 felt a more sudden call to go than they did. Most of the 
 departing audience seemed to run east, and there were 
 a number of pistol shots in that direction. After one 
 shot, some one yelled, ''Ad Butt is killed!" But Ad Butt 
 was not killed. He was a long-legged person from over 
 on Fish Creek, and had fallen in trying to turn the cor- 
 ner of Buie's store too suddenly. I saw him afterwards 
 and remembered hearing his name at the battle. He 
 was not dead. 
 
 Blair stood and waited until the crowd came back — all 
 who did come back — and remarked, ''What did I tell 
 you ? Your troubles are over. These fellows will under- 
 stand after this that they are not running Saline 
 County." After a few more pleasant words, he closed 
 his speech. 
 
 59 
 
Along the Old Trail 
 
 The people of Missouri owe honor to the memory of 
 Frank Blair. 
 
 SOCIAL PARTIES AND HOME THEATRICALS. 
 
 There were no societies, Chautauqua, "movies" or 
 nickel shows in Saline back in the '60s; but the desire 
 for amusement and a social life found an outlet fre- 
 quently in small neighborhood parties, and now and then 
 larger assemblages at the old brick Tavern in Arrow 
 Rock. The company was composed of the most promi- 
 nent society people of the country immediately around, 
 and of invited guests from Boonville, Glasgow and Mar- 
 shall. These parties would include a due proportion of 
 elderly people, who met in the parlors, while the younger 
 set would ''on with the dance" in the large hall, also 
 used as a dining room. 
 
 My recollections come to me with some sadness as well 
 as pleasure when I think of the prominent actors in these 
 festive occasions, for a large number of them have passed 
 away, and only a few of my readers will remember some 
 of them. Will H. Wood was always present (though 
 not much devoted to dancing), with his cheery, friendly 
 greeting for all; careful to see that every stranger, or 
 young person ill at ease, was made to feel at home. His 
 brother, Dr. D. D. Wood (''Doc"), ruddy, ardent and 
 full of life, was one of the dancers. Col. W. S. Jackson, 
 a man who would attract notice in any company, dashing, 
 long-haired, always a leader and popular with the boys. 
 Col. Stephen Cooper, bachelor, modest as a girl, favorite 
 of the ladies, who led his regiment into that Southern 
 Balaklava, Franklin, Tenn., coming out of it with one 
 arm shot away and half his men killed. Dr. F. R. Dur- 
 ritt, large and portly, one of the finest looking men I 
 ever saw, with a big head, into which a new idea filtered 
 slowly, but once in, impossible to get out. George 
 Barnes, nephew of Geo. C. Bingham, the artist, 
 neat, dressy and witty, who admitted his objection to 
 manual labor principally was that he had no every 
 day clothes. Col. John T. Price, yet on earth, polished, 
 educated, supple and polite. Col. Vincent Marmaduke, of 
 
 60 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 most pleasant memory, tall, handsome, brilliant and 
 courtly, with his infectious laugh and friendly word for 
 the humblest. These are a few of the notable characters 
 out of a large number belonging to the same community, 
 usually in attendance. 
 
 The music was inspiring and the dancing elegant — a 
 source of pleasure even to those not engaged in it ; and it 
 also served as a training school for the younger people 
 in developing sprightly, graceful carriage, and compos- 
 ure in the presence of company. 
 
 I hesitate to enroll the names of the ladies I remember, 
 because such as are living may not enjoy seeing their 
 names in print. Nearly all of them were of the pioneer 
 families, modest, dignified and bewitching dancers. 
 Many of them had never attended any higher school than 
 the vicinity afforded, but they had mothers at home, who 
 sent them into society accomplished with such manners 
 and training as would place them at ease in any com- 
 pany; and what those young ladies didn't know was al- 
 most as charming as what they did know. A great deal 
 has been written complimentary of the distinguished 
 men who once belonged to the Arrow Rock community, 
 and deservedly ; but not enough has been said in praise 
 of the pioneer mothers. They were not only remarkable 
 housekeepers, but they were highly intelligent and re- 
 fined ladies, contributing their full share to the high 
 tone and gentle manners prevailing. They were modest 
 home bodies and their influence yet survives in their 
 descendants. 
 
 At that day there did not exist the familiar, chummy 
 relation between the sexes which is now sometimes no- 
 ticed. There was a greater deference, even reverence, dis- 
 played by gentlemen in the presence of ladies. If at one 
 of those assemblies some exotic lady, ambitious to assert 
 her ^'rights," had offered to make a public utterance of 
 the grievances of her sex, there would have been a sud- 
 den scattering of the lady portion of her audience. They 
 would have been shocked. They would not have known 
 that they had lost any ' ' rights. " I do not want to drift 
 into politics. If the majority of the ladies, during my day 
 ever ask for the right of suffrage, I shall vote for it, be- 
 cause I have a habit of thinking whatever they want they 
 
 61 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ought to have ; but I shall feel queer. I fear I shall not 
 be as sorry as I ought that my grandmother is not living, 
 to see the happy day that she can vote, and run for road 
 overseers — or constable. 
 
 During the winter of 1865-6, the ladies of the town and 
 vicinity decided to get up an entertainment for the bene- 
 fit of Southern sufferers in hospitals, and such as were 
 otherwise in need of help. They presented a series of 
 tableaux, in groups, classic and historical, which were 
 well planned and well staged. All the personages in the 
 tableaux were ladies, and their costumes and poses were 
 in exceeding good taste, and appropriate to the char- 
 acters assumed. Where they picked up their dramatic 
 knowledge I don't know, but I do know they met the 
 enthusiastic approval of a very large audience, and 
 that they raised several hundred dollars. People who 
 had seen similar performances in more pretentious thea- 
 tres agreed that these ladies possessed originality and 
 histronic genius in a surprising degree. There was also 
 a little comedy presented, in which a few gentlemen 
 and boys took parts. I remember one particularly 
 slim, tall individual whose chief title to the applause he 
 received was a portly front he displayed, composed 
 chiefly of feathers ! He yet lives and has reached the 
 reminiscent age, in which he finds pleasure in dwelling 
 upon ancient memories; indeed his chief occupation is 
 the prepartion of historic anecdotes and reminiscences, 
 and in comparisons of the times, past and present. 
 
 62 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 MERCHANDISING IN ARROW ROCK IN EARLY 
 TIMES. 
 
 There was a friendliness and good understanding be- 
 tween the merchant and his customers, while I sold goods 
 in Arrow Rock, that was exceedingly pleasant. There 
 were few buggies at that day, and the farmer usually 
 came to town on horseback or in a two-horse wagon. 
 Often, when he lived quite a distance away, he would 
 bring his whole family, with a great basket of fried 
 chicken, broiled ham, pickles, cakes, pies and all sorts 
 of good things to eat, and make a holiday of it. ^ The 
 merchant would be invited to join them at their picnic, 
 and all had a first rate time. The boys would have to 
 be fitted with shoes and hats, and the girls' fancies must 
 be suited in choosing dresses, making it convenient to 
 have them all present. The mother, who presided over 
 the negotiations, would as often as not consult with her 
 merchant as to which, out of a number of articles, it 
 was best for her to select, totally unsuspicious that the 
 advice might not be conscientiously given. The trading 
 would go on as if a number of friends were consulting 
 together, all interested in the same object. It was an 
 ideal condition of things. I do not mean that we were 
 all saints, for sometimes there was a grouchy customer, 
 and sometimes there were "tricks in trade." 
 
 One of the Wilhites, who lived nearer to Cambridge 
 than to our town, and usually traded there, came to Ar- 
 row Rock one fall, intending to make some purchases if 
 suited. Among other things, he let it be known he want- 
 ed about ten pairs of boots, as he had a very large fam- 
 ily. He first went to Wood & Huston's, looked at their 
 stock, and then came to my store. I had a brand of 
 boots I took some pride in, and I made a strong appeal 
 for his trade. I expatiated on those boots. They were 
 whole leather, they were oak-tanned, they were war- 
 ranted by the maker ; any defect in leather or workman- 
 ship would be made good, even entitling the buyer to a 
 new pair ; and my price was reasonable, I thought. 
 
 63 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 I was quite sure I had made an impression on my 
 "inquiring friend. '^ But he went out, saying he would 
 look around and probably come back. The evening 
 wore away and my "prospect" never appeared again. 
 Just before closing, Will H. Wood came in and repeated 
 to me every thing I had said about my boots, and the ar- 
 guments he had used to knock everything I said into a 
 cocked hat. He had sold the boots, and laughed at me 
 as a boy would who had just won another's "white 
 alley," or thrown him in a wrestling match. He had 
 done nothing unfair, but was simply the better salesman. 
 Who could fail to love a competitor like that? No de- 
 ceit; no sneaking; everything open, frank and manly. 
 
 On the other hand, and at another time, the customer 
 of another house came into the store and wanted to biiy 
 a dollar 's worth of coffee, 4^ inquiring how much I sold 
 for a dollar. I told him four pounds (green coffee), and 
 
 he protested : ' ' Why Mr. sells five pounds. " " You 
 
 are his customer, why don't you buy it there?" "I have 
 just come from there and he told me that was the way 
 he sold it, but he is out." "Oh! ah, well, that is the 
 way I sell it when I am out, but, you see I am not out. ' ' 
 My straggler "seen" the point, and bought not only 
 once, but many times after. But this was unusual, and 
 I believe I never knew people who lived more in harmony 
 and were more loyal to each other than Arrow Kock 
 community. Merchandising was just amiable exchange 
 of commodities between friends. 
 
 Dry goods people often complain of ladies who come 
 into a store, have the salesman display all the dress 
 goods and fancy articles in the house, and then fail to 
 buy a dollar's worth. 
 
 I have often seen a hard-worked country lady 
 come into a store and inquire for all the handsomest 
 goods in the stock, stand and admire them, com- 
 ment on them, take out great strips of pretty 
 patterns, and with her knotted fingers fold them 
 into pleats and drape them over her plain skirt, 
 her face illumined with pleasure at the splendor 
 of such material, could she wear it. It was really pa- 
 thetic and deserving of sympathy. The love of what is 
 beautiful was as intense in her soul as in that of her 
 
 64 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 more fortunate sister who could aiford to wear it. Bright, 
 harmonious colors, and fine fabrics, over which she 
 would draw her tired hands caressingly, soothed and 
 gratified her. Who can grudge her such a privilege? 
 Many times when not busy, I have voluntarily displayed 
 to some good woman every pretty fabric in my stock, 
 when I knew she could not buy. And I never lost any- 
 thing by it, either. There was one particular lady who 
 always selected me to wait upon her, especially as the 
 boys w^ould get out of sight as soon as she entered the 
 door. On one occasion she brought with her a two-year 
 old urchin who w^ould be continually getting into mis- 
 chief and out of sight. Now and then, while taking an 
 inventory of my laces, embroideries and ribbons, she 
 would think of him, and we would jointly hunt him up 
 — from under the counter, from out on the sidewalk or 
 other refuge. This had occurred so many times that it 
 began to wear on her favorite salesman. She missed 
 the boy again (he had gone to sleep on a pile of wool 
 sacks) ; and I suggested that perhaps he had strolled off 
 towards the river. River ! Out bolts my loving customer 
 down the street; on goes my hat, and off to dinner, up 
 the street. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLIE WOOD, A PIONEER. 
 
 On my return home from a trip to the country, horse- 
 back, one winter afternoon, while living in Arrow Rock, 
 some time during the 70 's, my wife told me Uncle Charlie 
 Wood, Will H. Wood's father, had sent a negro boy, 
 with an extra horse, requesting me to come out to his 
 house. The boy had gone home, but soon returned say- 
 ing Uncle Charlie wanted me to come as soon as I got 
 back. 
 
 Mr. Wood was a large broad-shouldered, fleshy old 
 gentleman, with a ruddy face, sandy gray hair, large 
 features, and perhaps 70 years of age. Not long pre- 
 viously he had suffered a slight stroke of paralysis. It 
 was late but my wife suggested that perhaps Uncle 
 Charlie wanted to make his will, or have me a witness to 
 it, as the boy said he was ''right po'ly." I mounted my 
 
 65 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 horse, rode away at once. It was about two miles up to 
 Uncle Charlie's 400 acre farm, with its wide spreading, 
 old-fashioned dwelling, in a large grove of forest trees, 
 and surrounded by numerous out-houses, among which 
 were some negro cabins. I think several of his black 
 people had never left him. As I approached the gate a 
 lot of hound dogs came rushing out, some to the gate, 
 but others, older and more experienced, stopped half 
 way and raising their heads gave me a "deep-mouthed 
 welcome ' ' with their mellow voices. A stir in the ' ' quar- 
 ters, ' ' and two darkies oame out, a man and a boy ; the 
 boy taking my horse and the man, reproving the dogs, 
 escorted me to the door, saying: "01' Marster been look- 
 ing for you all day ; he 's po 'ly. ' ' 
 
 Uncle Charlie gave me a warm welcome in a voice very 
 strong for a sick man, and Mrs. Wood helped me to un- 
 wrap. I was "company," and everybody, black and 
 white, made me conscious of it. The effort was to make 
 me feel that the premises belonged to me. 
 
 Mr. Wood was sitting in his chair, with a blanket 
 thrown around his shoulders, in front of a great log fire. 
 I was soon comfortable, and Uncle Charlie was full of 
 talk. In due time supper — not dinner — was announced, 
 and such a meal! It was three in one, and might have 
 served for either. Baked spareribs, brown and juicy; 
 fresh sausages ; cold chicken ; broiled ham of last year 's 
 vintage, with its dark red, buttery gravy; potatoes; 
 baked apples ; pickles, sweet and sour ; preserves, two or 
 three varieties, each one of which must at least be tasted ; 
 comb honey, brown corn bread and biscuits hot every 
 few minutes; a great pyramid of yellow butter; and, 
 smoking by the side of Mrs. Wood at the head of the 
 table, a pot of coffee, breathing incense. Everything 
 prepared just as well as it can be by an old Virginia 
 housekeeper and her cook, which is compliment suffi- 
 cient. 
 
 There were three of us at the table, and enough on it 
 for a dozen. I had missed my dinner (we used to have 
 dinner at noon), and was hungry. I ate heartily, both 
 to gratify myself and to please my hostess; but you have 
 my word for it that my host was the most valiant trench- 
 erman, talking with animation all through the meal. 
 
Along the Old Trail, 
 
 After supper we returned to the fire heaped with fresh 
 fuel, and Uncle Charlie had apparently forgotten all 
 his diseases. He talked — talked of his boyhood in Old 
 Virginia ; of his struggles and hardships as a pioneer in 
 Saline; of the war, when he had been arrested and im- 
 prisoned in his old age as a dangerous citizen ; of Federal 
 prisons, and especially of Federal cooking, which he 
 had to swallow or starve ; of men and things in general, 
 of everything except the state of his health and a will. 
 
 About ten o'clock my horse was brought out, and I 
 rode home and related my experience to my wife, much 
 to her amusement and gratification that all yet was well 
 with Uncle Charlie. He had been lonesome; the winter 
 nights were long and the days cold and dreary; his 
 store rooms were overflowing with good things to eat. 
 He wanted some one there to help him enjoy them, and 
 he had a world of things on his mind he wanted to talk 
 about. Therefore, he sent for me. I thank him yet ! He 
 had given me a glimpse, one of my last of the old time 
 life before the war, and I still cherish it as a precious 
 memory. Reader of this, if you are not now old, you 
 some time may be. Some winter evening you may feel 
 a longing to pour into a sympathetic ear your thoughts 
 and emotions ; to pass back over your long journey and 
 review its vicissitudes, its joys and sorrows. 
 
 "For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey 
 
 This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned; 
 Left the warm precincts of a cheerful day, 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?" 
 
 A REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER AND HIS 
 DESCENDANTS. 
 
 A loyal and native son of the old town has sent me 
 some historical data which deserves to be preserved 
 among the annals of Arrow Rock. 
 
 After the death of Dr. Glenn 0. Hardeman, the letter 
 copied below was found among his papers. It was ad- 
 dressed to Thomas Hardeman, Dr. Hardeman's father, 
 who lived just across the river from David Jones, who 
 was at that time a member of the territorial Legislature 
 
 67 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 of Missouri, and during the session at which Missouri 
 applied for admission as a State. It is said to be an 
 exact copy, even to the spelling of ''Mazoury.'' The 
 original is now in the State 's archives at Columbia, Mo. 
 David Jones is buried in the Reid cemetery, four miles 
 south of Arrow Rock, the only soldier of the Revolution 
 buried in Cooper County. At the time the letter was 
 written, all of Saline County was embraced in Cooper 
 County territory. 
 
 St. Louis,. Mo., Nov. 7th, 1818. 
 ''Sir— 
 
 I embrace this opportunity of writing to inform you 
 that I am well, and I hope this may find you and yours 
 well also. 
 
 We have done little in the House but try contested 
 elections. There is a bill before the House extending 
 the right of preemption and draft a memorial to Con- 
 gress, also a bill for forming a State government, 
 which bill I enclose in this letter to you. I wish you, 
 after you have perused it, to send it over to our side 
 of the river. There is also a bill to knock down bank 
 bills and bills from other banks, under five dollars, 
 except the bank of Mazoury. I am not prepared to 
 say whether we will have a long session or not. There 
 are many things crowding on before us and very few 
 finished as yet. 
 
 I conclude by informing you that we gained our 
 seat without the loss of a single vote in the House. 
 
 David Jones." 
 
 David Jones was born in Richmond, Va., January 
 25, 1761, and died at his home in Cooper County, Mo., 
 February 7, 1838. He was a soldier of the Revolutionary 
 war, having enlisted at the age of 17. He was present 
 at the Yorktown surrender, and the sword he carried 
 there was in his family until appropriated by vandals 
 during the Civil War. He married Jane Ruble, who 
 survived him about nine months. Their family con- 
 sisted of two sons and nine daughters, all of whom lived 
 to advanced age. After living some years in Kentucky, 
 they came to Cooper County in 1812, and settled six 
 miles south of Arrow Rock. 
 
 68 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Several of his nine sons-in-law lived near him. One 
 son-in-law, Wm. Reid, and his wife, Anna, built the 
 first house on this side of the river, and their son, Jesse 
 J. Eeid, was the first white child born in Cooper County, 
 March 6, 1813. During his infancy, the parents fre- 
 quently took refuge in Cooper's Fort, across the river, 
 and their next child, a daughter, was born in the fort. 
 Jesse J. Reid was married to Margaret Kincheloe, and 
 founded his home on the Ashley and Cooper grant of 
 land, two miles south of Arrow Rock. He lived there 
 until his death, March 9th, 1873. His business, church 
 and social relations were always in Arrow Rock. His 
 children were five daughters, Anna M., (Mrs. T. C. Mc- 
 Mahan,) Susan M., (Mrs. W. C. Turley,) Rebecca F., 
 (Mrs. J. M. Baker,) Miranda P., (Mrs. W. M. Tyler,) 
 Jessie E., (Mrs. J. H. Kibler, married a second time; 
 now Mrs. Martin Harris. ) 
 
 In 1866, a daughter of Jesse J. Reid, descendent of 
 David Jones, came to Arrow Rock and opened a private 
 school. This energetic young lady had been brought up 
 on her father's farm near town, and the opportunities 
 for acquiring an education in that locality were very 
 limited just before and during the war. She was the 
 eldest of five children, all daughters, and her father, a 
 very worthy and modest gentleman, was not very strong 
 physically, so that after making a living for his family, 
 he had no means for sending children away to be edu- 
 cated. But Miss Anna, with the aid and encouragement 
 of her high-spirited and energetic mother, also of pioneer 
 stock, set out to acquire an education at home. She was 
 assisted materially by attending a school kept by George 
 Fenwick, a highly educated Marylander who had settled 
 in the neighborhood, but she was mainly self-taught. 
 While yet a student she taught a small school in her 
 immediate neighborhood as early as 1858, which was 
 really a means of instruction for herself as well as for 
 her pupils. In fact Miss Anna was always as diligent 
 to increase her own knowledge as she was earnest in im- 
 parting it to others. 
 
 At Arrow Rock she soon attracted the notice of her pa- 
 trons by her devotion to her work, and her energetic and 
 forceful management of her school. After her first year, 
 
 69 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 probably half of the pupils of school age in the town 
 were enrolled with ''Miss Anna," and within a few 
 years pupils were being sent to her from all the sur- 
 rounding country, until the capacity of her room was 
 taxed to accommodate them. Necessity may have caused 
 her to choose her avocation, but nature certainly designed 
 her for an instructor of the young. What she knew she 
 seemed to know more clearly than the average teacher, 
 and she possessed the gift of imparting it in that im- 
 pressive and original manner which enlisted the interest 
 and attention of her scholars. She not only watched 
 over the progress of her pupils in their lessons, but ex- 
 acted of them good behavior in and out of the school 
 room. Every vagrant pupil seemed to feel that the vig- 
 ilant eye of "Miss Anna" was liable to be found watch- 
 ing at any corner of the street on the way home, and even 
 after arrival there, he did not sleep before he had mas- 
 tered his lesson for the following morning. 
 
 I think Miss Anna educated every one of her four 
 sisters, all bright young ladies, and several of them be- 
 came, in their turn, her assistants. Not only was this 
 admirable lady a successful teacher, but her influence 
 was always devoted to the social, moral and intellectual 
 advancement of the community in which she was born 
 and spent the greater part of her life. Many living ex- 
 amples of ithe excellence of her work may be seen in and 
 around the old town, and she has equipped many Argo- 
 nauts, who have voyaged away in search of the Golden 
 Fleece, and found it. There are former pupils of her's 
 who remember her with gratitude and affection in every 
 State from Missouri to the Pacific coast. To those who 
 have known her through life she is, and always will be, 
 ''Miss Anna;" but during her career in Arrow Rock 
 she was married to Mr. T. C. McMahan, who took pride 
 in assisting her to continue the line of work she pre- 
 ferred to follow, and she found time to make his home 
 bright and cheerful during his life. After his death, in 
 1890, she ceased to teach, and is now spending a well- 
 earned leisure with one of her married sisters. 
 
 70 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ONE OF SALINE'S AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS. 
 
 Arch Gregory. 
 
 Arch Gregory was born in 1838, and never lived at 
 a greater distance than ten miles from Arrow Rock. 
 When I first knew him, he was a stirring youngster, not 
 yet owner of any land, but renting a considerable farm 
 in partnership with his brother-in-law, John West. It 
 is not generally my practice to disturb the living, but 
 Arch is a character so unique and is so important a fac- 
 tor in the Arrow Rock community that I find an oppor- 
 tunity for introducing him alive and yet in the swim. 
 Besides, the prospect of writing his obituary is very re- 
 mote. Although now up in the seventies, no one would 
 suspect it to hear him talk or see the way he makes 
 things happen around him. By energy and good judg- 
 ment, he has accumulated a large estate, principally by 
 farming and feeding live stock for market. He is a fine 
 judge of human nature, and not easy to deceive. If 
 David Harum had lived in his neighborhood, and tried 
 his horse swapping game on Arch, David would have got 
 the worst of it without Arch ever being reduced to the 
 necessity of lying to him. 
 
 Arch had a very poor opportunity for acquiring an 
 education. His hand-writing is not very easy to read, 
 but his spelling is substantial and always leaves no doubt 
 of the word he means to use. His hand-writing, how- 
 ever, once gave him trouble. He kept a deposit with the 
 Wood & Huston Bank at Marshall and another with a 
 bank at Slater, just before the disastrous failure of the 
 two banks in the latter town, about the year 1894. One 
 was called the ''Citizens' Stock Bank," and Arch had 
 heard hints that it was in a shaky condition. After buy- 
 ing some cattle or grain he concluded to pay with an 
 $800.00 check on the Slater bank, to reduce his deposit 
 there. He hunted for a blank check and finding none, 
 undertook to write one. Repeating the circumstances 
 to me, he said : " I started to write that check, and wrote 
 
 71 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 C-I-T-I,' but I never could make a ZEE, so I tore up the 
 paper and filled out a check on Wood & Huston Bank. 
 A few days after, the Slater bank broke up higher 'n a 
 kite, and I just lost $800.00 because I didn't know how 
 to make a ZEE!" 
 
 When Arch was quite a young man, some friends of 
 his, attracted by his energy and perseverance, proposed 
 to furnish him money to buy cattle to feed, he having 
 a fine crop of corn. Soon after this, there was a public 
 sale of quite a lot of "feeders" advertised in his neigh- 
 borhood, to be sold in lots of twenty head, with an op- 
 tion to take all or as many as the buyer wanted. Arch 
 was on hand early, much excited and watching his chance 
 when the first twenty were put up for sale. He had 
 made a low bid, when a cautious old neighbor came up 
 to him and said, ''My boy, keep out of rthis game; it is 
 very risky, and you know nothing of cattle." ''Yes, 
 yes," said the nervous boy, "perhaps you are right" — 
 keeping an eye on the auctioneer and trying to dodge his 
 cautious friend, when the hammer fell and the cattle 
 were knocked off to him. "How many do you want?" 
 said the auctioneer. Arch wriggled out of hearing of his 
 cautious monitor and close to the auctioneer, with his 
 hand to his mouth, and whispered, "I'll take 'em all." 
 The cattle were fed through the winter and cleared $40 
 per head. This early adventure was a fair index to the 
 character of the man. Quick to reach conclusions, he has 
 the courage to follow his judgment. He walks fast, 
 talks fast, and has a most original manner of expressing 
 himself. It is better entertainment than a picture show 
 to hear him talk. His neighbors frequently call on him 
 to conduct auction sales for them, when he appears at 
 his best. He never fails in a witty reply to the sallies 
 and waggery of his auditors. 
 
 A trifling incident from the social life of the ante- 
 bellum days will serve to illustrate his ready humor 
 and quick adaptability, which served to extricate him 
 from the embarrassment of an awkward occasion. 
 
 There was a Christmas party given at a country house 
 near town, soon after I came to Arrow Rock, and Arch 
 was an invited guest. He came into town before night- 
 fall and was with the boys until time to leave for the 
 
 72 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 party. In those days it was usual for the youngsters 
 to make merry by having a bowl of egg-nog ; and Arch, 
 not a drinker or a teetotaler, joined in with them. Some 
 elderly people may remember that two or three glasses 
 of that seductive fluid is also very treacherous. The 
 eggs and cream soften the taste without destroying the 
 effects of the spirits composing a part of the concoction. 
 Arch got more than was prudent for him, and without 
 being conscious of it, started for the party. Arriving at 
 the gate, he discovered while walking to the front door, 
 that his locomotive apparatus was wobbly; but he rang 
 the bell, and the lady of the house, a fleshy person, open- 
 ed the door. Arch was holding to the knob and the 
 swinging door propelled him into the ample arms of his 
 hostess. But with that quickness of decision, which is 
 a part of his nature, he shouted "Christmas Gift!" at 
 the same time plunging for the stairway railing which 
 was swimming around his way. He caught it on the fly, 
 and with its aid mounted the stairs to the gentlemen's 
 cloak room, and was soon sobered off, his hostess below 
 being totally unsuspicious of his condition, and believ- 
 ing that his affectionate entrance was only one of Arch's 
 friendly, gushing salutations. 
 
 For many years Arch has been the purchaser of the 
 surplus corn and feed belonging to his neighbors, and 
 his dealings with Ihem have been so frank and open 
 that many of them are willing to let him fix the price of 
 their products. While he is shrewd and careful, he is 
 also fair and even generous in his dealings. 
 
 Arch has been in easy circumstances for a long time 
 now, and can afford to be the liberal and public-spirited 
 citizen he is. He does not claim that during his career 
 his enthusiasm and ardor have not at times misled him ; 
 but all his friends will testify that in the essentials of 
 character, he is an upright and honorable citizen, a good 
 neighbor and steadfast friend. Something of the high 
 tone which characterized the founders of the old com- 
 munity clings to him, and marks him for a true son of 
 the soil. 
 
 73 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 A SENSIBLE BUT UNUSUAL WEDDING 
 CEREMONY. 
 
 One Woman Who Kept a Secret, Years Ago. 
 
 One winter Sunday morning — to be exact, on January 
 2, 1878 — at the close of the services in the Methodist 
 Church in Arrow Rock, the minister announced that on 
 the following Wednesday morning, at 10 o'clock, a mar- 
 riage ceremony would be celebrated in that Church, and 
 all who chose to come would be welcome. No expla- 
 nation was made, and of course, this caused a mild sen- 
 sation in a village of eight hundred people, every one 
 personally known to the other. All sorts of conjectures 
 were proposed, the most enlightened and skillful gossips 
 were consulted; but every suggestion, after being dis- 
 cussed was pronounced improbable. The whole village 
 acknowledged itself incapable of forming any solution 
 of the puzzle, and the minister was dumb. Not a 
 spoony couple who were "sweet" on each other was 
 known to exist. Time, that old Justice of the Peace, who 
 settles all our difficulties, would have to decide it; but 
 even the old scythe-bearer mowed his swath slowly until 
 Wednesday morning finally consented to arrive. 
 
 George A. Murrell, a prosperous farmer, whose wife 
 had died some years previously, lived seven miles from 
 town, on his farm near Jonesborough. He came into 
 my store early Wednesday morning, and announced that 
 he was going to make a trip to St. Louis, and that he 
 would go to Boonville, the nearest railroad station, in 
 a coach, which would leave about noon. He was con- 
 siderably dressed up, for George, but as he was going 
 away on a visit, that caused no surprise to any of us. 
 We supposed he was going on the mail coach, which car- 
 ried passengers. It was quite a cold morning, and we 
 sat around the stove and chatted. George seemed to be 
 in a particularly jolly frame of mind, and we made 
 many remarks about the wedding announced to occur 
 in the church that morning ; but no one had even a guess 
 as to who the parties might be. I was not much ooncern- 
 
 74 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ed about the affair myself, and 10 o'clock had almost 
 arrived when George said to me, ''Tom, let's go up to 
 the church and see who is going to get married. ' ' I put 
 on my hat and we walked together, talking of indifferent 
 subjects on the way, and took seats in a pew about the 
 middle of the church, George sitting next the aisle. The 
 church was already half filled, and pretty soon about 
 every seat was taken. Mrs. John C. Thompson, Sr., 
 widow, a member of the church, dressed in full black, 
 a tall and stately lady, came in late, walking alone, and 
 took her usual seat in a pew next the front one. The 
 audience sat and stared suspiciously at each other, but 
 still no hint of the candidates for future happiness. 
 
 The minister, after a dramatic pause, arose, and in a 
 very deliberate tone said, "The partiee w^ho propose to 
 enter into the holy bonds of matrimony will now please 
 present themselves before the altar," at the same time 
 coming down from his pulpit and standing inside the 
 railing. 
 
 There was a silence so deep that it reverberated. You 
 could feel your pulses beat, for almost a minute, before 
 any movement was made. I began whispering into 
 George's ear, "To be or not to be?" when he said to me, 
 "Tom, I believe if no one else is going up I'll go my- 
 self;" and then he arose and walked very deliberately 
 up the aisle. When he reached the seat where Mrs. 
 Thompson was sitting she stood up, dropping a long black 
 veil over the back of her pew, and took the proferred 
 arm of Mr. Murrell. The ceremony w^as soon over, and 
 I think there were more pop-eyed people gazing at them 
 during its progress than were ever seen before in that 
 church. At its close every soul present rushed forward 
 and offered sincere congratulations. Both were very 
 well known to their auditors, both were members of the 
 Methodist Church; but even Mrs. Grundy admitted she 
 had been outwitted, for although this marriage was uni- 
 versally conceded to be a very appropriate union in 
 every particular, not a soul in the town had a thought 
 of either in connection with the unusual occurrence. 
 
 A carriage was in wating outside, and the happy 
 pair, highly pleased with the success of their cunning 
 plans, started on their journey. 
 
 75 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Further inquiry developed that Mr. and Mrs. Murrell 
 were old acquaintances; that before either had been 
 married they had been on very friendly terms, if not 
 sweethearts. It also was discovered that they had cor- 
 responded, and met together in such an apparently cas- 
 ual manner that none of their friends had suspected 
 them. 
 
 The marriage proved a happy one to both, and was 
 only terminated by the sad death of Mrs. Murrell, sev- 
 eral years previous to that of Mr. Murrell, which occurred 
 last year, at the ripe age of 84. 
 
 It has always seemed to me that Mr. and Mrs. Mur- 
 rell chose a very sensible plan for beginning life together. 
 Mrs. Thompson was a childless widow, living alone in 
 her dwelling in the village, and Mr. Murrell was living 
 on his farm with his two sons, the only white members 
 of his family. Their friends witnessed their wedding, 
 and no one was put to any trouble in preparing for it. 
 It was an ingenious, and at the same time a dramatic 
 entrance into the wedded life. 
 
 But I, the unsuspecting groomsman, was cut off from 
 the full performance of my office. 
 
 The Old "Lochinvar had come out of the West," 
 Had walked up the aisle while the people were dumb, 
 And his groomsman sat twiddling his fingers and thumb! 
 
 My friend George had jilted me. 
 
 WILLIAM B. SAPPINGTON. 
 
 Wm. B. Sappington, born in Franklin, Tenn., in 1811, 
 came with his father. Dr. John Sappington, in 1819, 
 first to Howard County and later to Saline. He was well 
 qualified by education and intellectual ability for a 
 business man land previous to the war had been very 
 successful. When I came to the county, he was the 
 wealthiest man in Saline, owning large bodies of rich 
 land, a splendid country home, and much personal prop- 
 erty; but he seemed never to adjust himself to the new 
 order of things after the war. Personally he was far 
 from extravagant. He dressed plainly and cared nothing 
 
 76 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 for display; but everybody who wanted to raise money 
 for any sort of public or private enterprise, and men 
 who applied for favors they had no right to ask, called 
 on him, and usually got what they came for. Many a 
 false friend beset him, and took advantage of his kind 
 heart and generous disposition. 
 
 Although entirely unconscious of it himself, Mr. Sap- 
 pington was a very handsome man. He had a noble 
 countenance, and sat his horse like a prince. On his road 
 to and fro, always horseback, he spoke friendly words 
 to every man, woman and child he met, black or white. 
 Every word he spoke was exactly what he thought, and 
 there was a vim and vigor in his voice which left no 
 doubt of it. His home was the seat of unlimited hos- 
 pitality, and he was the friend and counsellor of every 
 neighbor and relative around him. A higher minded 
 and more honorable gentleman never lived in Saline 
 County. For forty years he was Chairman of the Board 
 of Trustees for the fund given by his father for the edu- 
 cation of poor children in Saline County, and he was 
 for many years President of the Bank of Arrow Rock, 
 in both of which offices he discharged his duty with 
 profit to the corporations he served. Increasing age, 
 shrinking fortune, loss of those very dear to him, made 
 no important change in his daily life. The high ideals 
 and noble generosity of his palmy days characterized 
 him to the last. 
 
 It would be hard for a man to pass through life down 
 in the Old Settlement without some anecdote connected 
 with him being remembered. I have heard that while 
 Mr. Sappington's father was living over in Howard 
 County, his negroes were at work improving his farm in 
 Saline, preparatory to making it his home. His son, 
 William, was a stout lad; and as there was no ferry 
 where it was most convenient for him to cross, the Dr. 
 sent him over the river in a skiff, with a couple of sides 
 of bacon in a sack, for the ''hands," which he had to 
 carry on his shoulder from the river to the farm. 
 Weather was hot, and the boy had stopped to rest by 
 the roadside, when the Rev. Peyton Nowlin, a pioneer 
 Baptist minister, came along and had a chat with him. 
 After learning his name, and the nature of his trip, 
 
 77 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 he inquired, ''What occupation does your father intend 
 for you to follow, when you grow up, my lad?" "Well, 
 sir," replied the perspiring boy, "so far as I am able to 
 judge, I think he intends to make a horse of me ! " 
 
 SOME RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PIONEERS. 
 
 Ephriam McLane was one of the Cooper colony which 
 settled around the fort in 1810, and was the oldest of 
 the pioneers I personally knew. He had seen service 
 defending the first settlers of Saline against the Indians, 
 and was himself an early settler in the county. He was 
 fond of relating stories of the days when corn bread 
 and wild game were the principal diet, and buckskin 
 and home-made cloth their only clothing. He was a tall 
 man with a long, heavy beard; good-humored, and 
 proud of being about the oldest of the living pioneers. 
 I do not remember at what age he died, but think it was 
 near to ninety years. A son of his, Elijah McLane, a 
 modest, good citizen, lives at Little Rock, (formerly Sa- 
 line City), where Ephraim McLane died. 
 
 John and Isaac Thornton were sons of Daniel Thorn- 
 ton, who came to Saline soon after Henry Nave. John 
 Thornton, while living, was the oldest native born white 
 man in Saline County, having been born in the year 
 1816, the year his father came to the county. After the 
 death of John, Isaac Thornton was the oldest native 
 born, and I think Capt. Wm. L. Ish, born in 1819, was 
 the next oldest after Isaac Thornton. Although Capt. 
 Ish afterwards lived in Arrow Rock, he was not of the 
 original Arrow Rock settlement, but his father came 
 with the Hayes, Gwinn, Wilhite and Tennille emigration, 
 which first settled in the "Big Bottom" and on Fish 
 Creek. 
 
 I knew John Thornton particularly well, and never 
 knew a more honorable and straight-forward man. He 
 was deadly true to the man he accepted as his friend, 
 and his antipathy to one he disliked was just as decided. 
 
 John Thornton was a blacksmith before he retired to 
 his farm, and his first shop stood on the ground where 
 I afterwards sold goods. He was once summoned as a 
 
 78 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 witness in a case where a blacksmith had sued a cus- 
 tomer who disputed his account because he thought th-e 
 charges excessive. Mr. Thornton did not like to take 
 sides against his fellow smith ; so he told the magistrate, 
 when asked what he thought of the items in the bill, that 
 there- was a tradition among blacksmiths that only two 
 members of their craft had ever gone to h (the eter- 
 nal blacksmith shop where satan pumps the bellows) ; 
 one went for working cold iron and the other for not 
 charging enough. With such a fate impending no pru- 
 dent smith could afford to take the risk. The case was 
 compromised. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF BLUE GRASS IN SALINE. 
 
 Richard Marshall, who came to Saline in 1819, settled 
 at the mouth of Salt Fork, on Blackwater, near to the 
 present town of Nelson. The Osage Trail leading to 
 Arrow Rock passed through his land, and crossed at 
 the Boat- Yard ford. He owned a large body of land, 
 and was an extensive stock grower, but like the majority 
 of the first settlers, he preferred to open his farm in 
 the timber, when there were more fertile prairie lands 
 lying vacant about him. He was a powerfully built man 
 with particularly broad shoulders. When he would 
 came to Arrow Rock, a crowd always collected around to 
 hear him talk. In his ordinary tone he could be heard 
 all up and down the street, and it was said of him that 
 when he whispered his first message of love to the sweet- 
 heart who afterwards became his wife, all the neighbors 
 heard him. His manner of expression was very amusing, 
 always emphatic, and at the close of any sentence to 
 which he desired to give emphasis he would always say 
 "You hear me!" — and you certainly did, if you were 
 in sight. 
 
 Mr. Marshall was said to have been very fond of hunt- 
 ing 'coons at night; and Gov. Jackson, his neighbor, 
 often went with him on those occasions, taking pleasure 
 in hearing him make the woods ring when the game 
 was being chased by the dogs. He raised a large family, 
 and many of his descendants yet live in the vicinity of 
 
 79 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 his old home. His son, Fleming Marshall, — "Uncle 
 Flem," as his neighbors affectionately called him — re- 
 sembled his father in many ways. He was in dead 
 earnest on all subjects ; industrious, thrifty, and also had 
 a voice audible to all his neighbors when he "called" 
 his hogs of mornings. Good, old-fashioned type of man, 
 who used to spare me some of his two-year old hams 
 from a smokehouse never barren of well-cured bacon. 
 
 I have frequently heard it said by old settlers that 
 Richard Marshall and Dr. John Sappington were the 
 first men who sowed blue grass in Saline, and also that 
 they made a practice of taking seed from their crops 
 and scattering it along roadsides where they thought 
 it most apt to grow, as they would pass to and fro 
 through the neighborhood. It certainly fell on fruitful 
 soil, for now it comes of itself in any meadow or pas- 
 ture after a few years. By the way, blue grass was first 
 found growing wild in the Shenandoah Valley of Vir- 
 ginia; was carried to Ohio, when it was Virginia terri- 
 tory, by the Harness, Cunningham and Renick families, 
 emigrants from the Valley; thence to Kentucky and to 
 Missouri. The English blue grass and all other grass 
 is inferior to it as pasture. 
 
 SAUNDERS TOWNSEND. 
 
 Saunders Townsend lived in Cooper County three 
 miles south of Arrow Rock, where he owned a large 
 body of land and was a successful farmer and stock 
 raiser. He had been a very strong man physically, with 
 a temper not safe to trifle with; very positive in his 
 convictions and very free to express them. Honest and 
 candid himself, he could not tolerate anything indirect 
 or deceitful in others. I have heard that on a certain 
 occasion he and a tenant of his met in a field not near 
 any house; that they quarreled and began to fight. A 
 little son of the tenant, who was along, ran a quarter of 
 a mile to give the alarm, and when friends arrived to 
 part them, they were still at it, neither one conquered or 
 able to deal an effective blow. They had literally fought 
 to a standstill. Doubtless two such men did not remain 
 
 80 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 enemies. In all probability they finally shook hands 
 and became reconciled. 
 
 Mr. Townsend raised a large family, who settled in 
 the neighborhood and raised families of their own. I 
 knew and had dealings with six of his sons, every one 
 an honest, manly citizen. I, perhaps, knew B. F. Town- 
 send more intimately than any of the others, as he was 
 merchandising in the town when I first came to it, and 
 I passed his door several times almost every day. He 
 was a blunt spoken man and had one of the sternest 
 countenances I ever looked upon. I used to tell him 
 if I had his face I would never make a bad debt; that 
 when a man would come into my store I didn't want to 
 credit, I vfould ^hesr stand and look at him a minute or so, 
 when he would leave without asking indulgence. And 
 yet this same Ben Townsend was one of the tenderest 
 hearted men I ever knew. A faithful, affectionate hus- 
 band ; kind to his children, and too lenient with the man 
 who owed him. Except Jesse McMahan, he was Arrow 
 Rock's oldest merchant in 1866. He would not have 
 known how to practice deception, and he certainly never 
 tried. 
 
 Robert Carson, an older brother of Kit, lived just 
 across the river above Arrow Rock. He would come to 
 town three or four times a year, and if he got too much 
 of his enemy, strong drink, would stay three or four days. 
 He was a small, wiry man, with a keen eye, and quick 
 motioned. Very quiet when sober, he was talkative and 
 antic when boozy. I have heard him relate many stories 
 of his adventures on the plains and in the mountains. 
 When his brother Kit ran away to follow the plains, he 
 went in company with Bob, who told me he taught that 
 boy his first lessons in the strategy and cunning neces- 
 sary for combating the Indian savages. Bob had been 
 a guide and a trapper years before his brother, and, 
 when under the influence of liquor he would show that he 
 felt some resentment at the fact that this brother of his 
 had become famous, when he felt himself to have been 
 the better scout and Indian fighter of the two. 
 
 Hamilton Carson, a half-brother to Bob and Kit, lived 
 not far off in the Boonslick hills. I think he had never 
 been on the plains; but he was a farmer in comfortable 
 
 81 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 circumstances, and I have very pleasant recollections of 
 him and of some modest daughters of his who used to buy 
 merchandise of me. The father of the Carsons was a 
 pioneer of Howard County in the days of the forts, and 
 Bob Carson was old enough to remember those early 
 times. 
 
 How many heroes of hair-breadth escapes and bold 
 enterprises lie asleep not far from the Old Trail, their 
 deeds unrecorded, and soon to be forgotten. It is a pity 
 that we do not think of these things until the actors in 
 them have passed away. 
 
 A SUMMER SCENE ON THE BANK OF THE 
 MISSOURI. 
 
 The river, when I first came to Arrow Rock, ran close 
 to the limestone cliif, above the ravine known as ''Todd's 
 Hollow." At the mouth of Todd's Spring branch there 
 was a shelving, rocky shore, making a pool of quiet 
 water, where the colored people baptised the new con- 
 verts to the Baptist faith. 
 
 On a summer Sunday afternoon it was made known 
 that an unusually large number was to be baptised, and 
 quite an audience of their white friends walked down to 
 the appointed place, disposing themselves on the slopes 
 of the hill, under the shade of the trees to witness the 
 ceremonial. The colored folk from all the country 
 around had come to town, and were going through some 
 preliminary exercises in the church on the hill. In due 
 time they came into sight, at least three hundred strong, 
 sun shades and umbrellas uplifted, and marching in 
 column down the sinuous hillside road, the women 
 dressed in all the colors of the rainbow, white and red 
 predominating, and all singing a hymn in that clear, 
 mellow and plaintive strain for which the colored race 
 is unrivalled. Very rarely in my life have I witnessed 
 a scene so picturesque, or listened to music so natural and 
 delightful. 
 
 Twenty-five feet from the shore the water was deeper 
 and the current ran swiftly, so that the colored brother 
 who officiated at the immersion waded carefully out with 
 
 82 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 a long stick, feeling his way until a proper depth had 
 been reached ; and there he planted his staff for safety ; 
 and stood waiting for the candidates to be brought 
 out by a careful brother, who, the immersion over, would 
 lead her or him, — ^principally her — to the shore. 
 
 ''Peg-leg Jim" was a saddle-colored boy who worked 
 around livery stables, sometimes drove the mail coach, 
 and hauled freight up from the river. He owned a 
 wooden leg with an iron ferrule on it like that on the 
 end of a cane; a jolly good-natured darky, fond of 
 sweetened toddy; not insensible to the charms of a 
 buxom colored damsel; suitably pious during revival 
 occasions and falling from grace very gracefully when 
 the day of temptation arose — "just as you and I did." 
 Jim volunteered to "clerk" for the minister, and escort 
 the candidates in and out. He had led one shrinking 
 and shivering sister after another to and from the apos- 
 tle at the standing stake, proud of his important place 
 in the programme, and moving briskly ; when that pesky 
 iron foot of his plumped down on a sloping stone just 
 as Jim threw his whole weight upon it, and he instantly 
 disappeared from mortal sight — all except that peg-leg, 
 which stuck straight up above the water, and unregener- 
 ate and unconverted counterfeit. Jim was active and 
 soon regained his balance, but the accident caused a 
 severe shock to the solemnity of his audience, both black 
 and white. The sudden and unexpected self-immersion 
 caused many to laugh almost aloud. 
 
 I do not mean to write in ridicule of the religious 
 rites of the colored people. At that day their idea of re- 
 ligion was mainly spectacular and emotional, but they 
 enjoyed it, and it gave them hope of a future state of 
 happiness. In spite of opinions to the contrary, I believe 
 the colored race in Missouri is advancing in intelligence 
 and good morals. The whole body of them should not 
 be condemned because some of their number are brutal 
 and worthless. On the contrary, I think it is the duty 
 of every true Southern man to speak an encouraging 
 word to every worthy colored man he meets. The fore- 
 fathers of many of them helped to fence and clear the 
 fields, open the roadways, and make Saline a pleasant 
 
 83 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 place to live in. Although they now lie in nameless 
 graves, we owe respect to their memory. They were 
 also pioneers. 
 
 SAMUEL H. HUSTON. 
 
 Sam. Huston was a son of the pioneer Joseph, who 
 built the old tavern. He was physically strong, a famous 
 hunter, energetic, earnest and very excitable. When a 
 youngster he was a little wild, and wouldn't refuse a 
 wager if occasion offered. A sporting character who 
 traveled on steamers, stopping here and there at towns 
 on the river, would find the old tavern at Arrow Rock 
 comfortable quarters, and stop over sometimes for a 
 month or two. The ''black sheep" from some good 
 family probably, his gentlemanly and attractive man- 
 ners made him -ar popular bey with the youngsters, espe- 
 cially as he seemed to enjoy spending his money quite 
 as much as winning it. He had been making small wag- 
 ers with Sam, and winning so invariably that Sam had 
 grown tired of it, and refused to take a venture with 
 him at anything. Then the wag would twit Sam with 
 timidity, and make all sorts of absurd proposals, such as 
 it would seem impossible for Sam to lose, till one day he 
 proposed to bet within two ounces what a certain large 
 boulder would weigh, which had long lain in the street. 
 This was more than Sam could withstand, and so he put 
 up his wager. They brought the stone to the scales, and 
 it weighed exactly what the scamp had guessed. Sam 
 lost again, to the great glee of the crowd of boys who 
 were witnesses. The scamp had previously taken the 
 stone to the scales and carefully weighed it. 
 
 Later on Sam developed into a successful business 
 man and owned the mill, which did both custom grinding 
 for toll, and manufactured flour for sale. His customers 
 were continually accusing him of taking too much toll, 
 giving short weights, or some similar sin generally attrib- 
 uted to millers in the days of grinding for toll. One of 
 his customers, knowing Sam's peculiarities, had been to 
 the mill, and was returning from it with an empty sack, 
 intending to make some purchases uptown. Just as he 
 
 84 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 had reached the row of business houses, he observed Sam 
 coming on a short distance behind him. The man with 
 the sack broke into a run, holding his sack in front of 
 him, and attracting the attention of every one on. the 
 street. Some one came out and asked what the trouble 
 was, and the panting runner stopped and replied: ''I 
 went down to the mill with a load of wheat, and Sam 
 Huston has taken the whole of it for his toll, and here 
 he comes, chasing me for the last sack ! ' ' Sam came up 
 and was enraged, as usual, but the universal laughter 
 convinced him this was another joke. 
 
 Sam had what he called dyspepsia. He was a hearty 
 eater, lived on generous food, and sometimes suffered for 
 it. When he had overtaxed his digestive powers, he would 
 confide to his friends the sad condition of his health, 
 until everybody was acquainted with his '^ symptoms." 
 Among these was Henry Miller, the practical joker, who 
 couldn't enjoy a joke at his own cost. One morning 
 Sam came into the store, and Mr. Miller inquired after 
 his health, and found it poor, as usual. I was witness 
 to this conversation between them : ' ' Do you have burn- 
 ing sensations in your stomach, Sam V ' ' Yes. " ' ' Wat- 
 ery eructations, and sometimes nausea?" "Exactly." 
 "Lie awake at night, and restless?" "Precisely." "Ir- 
 ritable of mornings, and no appetite?" "Yes! Yes!" 
 (with enthusiasm). "Well, sir, I have believed it for 
 some time, by your appearance. You have all the symp- 
 toms." "Symptoms of what?" "Cancer of the stom- 
 ach. It is not a rapid death, but no man ever recovers 
 of it." 
 
 Sam bolts for his doctor, only to be laughed at when 
 he discloses the discoverer of his malady. Sam enjoyed 
 all these jokes, after he got to see through them, but it 
 usually took time. Other people got most of the fun 
 out of them before it came 'round to him. 
 
 These matter-of-fact people, inclined to take every- 
 thing literally, are the cause of as much meriment as 
 the jokers themselves. 
 
 85 
 
Alo7ig the Old Trail. 
 
 UNCLE BILLY BARNES AND THE MILITIA. 
 
 Mr. Wm. E. Barnes was an early settler in Saline, 
 born and bred in Berkley County, Virginia. He was an 
 industrious and excellent farmer, the picture of health, 
 with a ruddy face, a bright eye, and a ringing laugh. 
 He made no secret of his opinions on any subject, and 
 was particularly outspoken as a Southern sympathizer 
 during the war. The State Militia were in control most of 
 the time in Saline, and they showed no favors to pro- 
 nounced "rebels" like Uncle '' Billy, " although he was 
 even then an old man. On one occasion a company of them 
 rode up and decided to camp for the night near his house. 
 Seeing some fat steers grazing in a nearby pasture, they 
 told Uncle "Billy" they were in need of fresh meat and 
 were going to kill one of his best. He consented to it 
 readily, and was so jolly and cheerful over his loss that 
 when they left the next morning, they gave him a hind 
 quarter which they had left over. He assured them they 
 were perfectly welcome to come around and kill another 
 whenever they pleased. 
 
 George Baker, a strong Union man, owned the steers, 
 and was having them pastured in a field close to Uncle 
 "Billy's" house. In a few days Mr. Baker, who was 
 something of a joker himself, came over, and Uncle 
 "Billy" told him all about it with great glee. He even 
 offered him a part of his own beef, but Mr. Baker was 
 too game to accept it. He confessed the joke was on him, 
 and the two remained friends, as they had always previ- 
 ously been. 
 
 Uncle "Billy" was born July 10, 1813, and died 
 April 20, 1903, being almost ninety years old. For many 
 years previous to his death he annually gave a birthday 
 dinner, inviting his friends from Marshall, and his 
 nearby neighbors. His birthday was the 10th of July, 
 but he decided to call it the second Sunday, since some 
 of his friends, among them I. 0. Striker, might not other- 
 wise be able to attend. There was always a big turkey 
 at one end of the table, and a whole ham, two years old, 
 
 86 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 at the other. What was collateral to these can be readily 
 imagined by those who have been guests at such a feast. 
 I do not remember a more hospitable man, or one who 
 enjoyed life better. He owned a small farm, not oyer 
 sixty acres, I think ; but it produced abundance of fruits, 
 vegetables, grain and live stock for his uses. He worked 
 with his hands as long as he lived, and found pleasure 
 in it ; had plenty of fruit to give away, but not much to 
 sell ; would often bring it to his friends in town if they 
 failed to come for it. To hear him talk of ' ' Black Repub- 
 licans" you would suppose he ate one for breakfast every 
 morning, but there was not one of them he would have 
 harmed or failed to help if they needed it. He was ab- 
 solutely incapable of malice ; for some of his neighbors, 
 who understood him, and were of opposite opinions to 
 his, were among his warmest friends, notwithstanding 
 his' fierce attacks on their politics. ^ 
 
 On sixty acres of land he lived generously, raised his 
 family in good credit, was an influential and independ- 
 ent citizen, and, in his old age, he and his admirable 
 daughter took charge of three doubly-orphaned grand- 
 sons of his, educated them, and caused them to grow up 
 
 useful men. . -, „ „ n 
 
 Mr. Barnes' life is a fine example of the folly ot great 
 wealth. With his small estate he lived a happier life, 
 dispensed more hospitality, and accomplished more good 
 to his community than many men worth millions. 
 
 87 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 L. T. LINDSAY. 
 
 "Lit" Lindsay, as Ms friends called him, was a gro- 
 ceryman of our village, and a character. Was well- 
 bred, born in Virginia, and had ''sold goods in Rich- 
 mond, sir. ' ' When I first knew him he was perhaps forty 
 years of age, an enthusiastic Democrat, with Southern 
 tendencies, so much so that during the war he became 
 a part of the exodus from the town while the militia 
 were quartered there. He was a small man, very polite 
 and graceful in his manners, especially after he had im- 
 bibed a small quantity — a thimble full would do — of 
 toddy, when his Virginia blood would begin to bubble. 
 
 One evening our village was being afflicted with an 
 entertainment by some lecturer who was droning along 
 in a most dreary way, when Lit, who had come in late 
 and had taken a seat at the very front, almost touching 
 the speaker, after alternately dozing and trying to listen, 
 arose, and with a bow and flourish which would have 
 charmed Lord Chesterfield, made this deliverance: ''You 
 will please excuse me, sir ; by your leave I think I will 
 retire. ' ' Then, with another profound bow, he ' ' wrapped 
 the drapery of" his dignity about him, and more or 
 less steadily passed down the aisle and into the street. 
 The enthusiastic applause of the audience cheered him 
 as he "retired", hero of the only sprightly event of the 
 evening. 
 
 He was a whole-hearted, genial gentleman, and was 
 liked by every one. All of us have ' ' some faults to make 
 us men, ' ' and if we can extract any amusement from one 
 another's foibles as we pass along, why not? 
 
 88 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 LETTER PROM DR. GLEN 0. HARDEMAN. 
 
 The stories of the early days in Saline county, by Mr. 
 T. C. Rainey, have been of much interest to some of our 
 readers and the incidents related by him have been dis- 
 cussed by many of the old settlers of the county. The 
 following letter, which relates to the same subject, was 
 published in the Saline County Index, January 11th, 
 1900. 
 
 Dr. Ish's reminiscences as published in the Christmas 
 number of the Index, on ''Christmas in Saline Fifty 
 Years Ago," w^as highly appreciated, especially by the 
 old settlers. Much has been said and written about the 
 article — in fact much of it has been extensively copied. 
 The following letter was received by Dr. Ish a few days 
 ago, in reply to his article, and as it is very interesting 
 we give it to our readers : 
 
 ''Gray's Summit, Mo., Dec. 29, 1899. 
 
 "Dear Doctor: — 
 
 "One so long identified with Saline county as I have 
 been could not but be interested in your entertaining 
 account of ' Christmas in Missouri Fifty Years Ago. ' 
 
 "To me the past is vividly recalled by your mention 
 of such pioneers as Maj. Lankford and 'LFncle' Henry 
 Weedin, both of whom it was my privilege to number as 
 friends. In connection with Mr. Weedin 's name you 
 might have recalled the fact that the town of Miami 
 has a history as the scene of the last fight with hostile 
 Indians that occurred in the State of Missouri. This 
 took place, I believe, during the war of 1812-15. A band 
 of Miami Indians had stolen a lot of horses and 'forted' 
 themselves on the bank of the Missouri river where the 
 town now stands. A company of 'rangers,' of which 
 Mr. Weedin and Ephraim McCain, were members, swam 
 their horses across the river, routed the Indians and 
 recovered the stolen horses. 
 
 89 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 ''My reminiscences date back not fifty but fifty-nine 
 years, for I have known Saline county since 1840. My 
 brother, J. Locke Hardeman, at that time lived on a 
 farm three miles west of Arrow Rock, and I was in the 
 habit of spending my annual school vacations with him. 
 I was then but a lad of 15 years. 
 
 ''The primitive conditions of the country and its' in- 
 habitants you have well described. The immense quan- 
 tity of game is not exaggerated nor the beauty and at- 
 tractiveness of the fair daughters of that day with whom 
 I sometimes engaged in the dance, and other innocent 
 amusements. As a contrast and commentary upon the 
 fleeting of time, I may mention that I visited Saline last 
 summer, after an absence of many years, and met a num- 
 ber of those self-same fair daughters — now venerable 
 white-haired dames with grown grand- daughters. 
 
 ' ' On my first visit to Saline in 1840 I landed at Arrow 
 Rock from a steam boat, in the night, and as I intended 
 going to the country early in the morning, I took lodg- 
 ings only, at the hotel kept by that well-known and pop- 
 ular citizen, Joseph Huston, Sr., for which I was charged 
 the sum of 12% cents, or, I should say, a 'bit.' On my 
 return in a few days I dined at the same hotel and was 
 charged another 'bit' for an excellent dinner. The cur- 
 rency of that day was exclusively of Mexican or Span- 
 ish coin. Even the post office accounts were kept in that 
 currency, and I have many old letters for which I was 
 charged as postage 12i/^, 25 and 37% cents, for letters 
 were seldom prepaid then. 
 
 "My professional career began in 1848 in the town 
 of Marshall, at that time a straggling village of but few 
 inhabitants, with prairie grass growing in its streets, and 
 its disreputable ' dog row, ' which stood so long as a land- 
 mark. 
 
 "Dr. Hix, who afterwards died of the cholera, was the 
 oldest practitioner. Dr. Wallace came next, in point of 
 time. His after history I have never been able to trace. 
 
 "We puked, and purged, and blistered a patient in the 
 old orthodox antiphlogistic style, and I believe with as 
 much success as our modern successors with all their 
 knowledge of microbes, bacteria, and other insects; for 
 
 90 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 it appears to me that they expend all their science and 
 skill on diagnosis — then turn the patient over to the 
 trained nurse. But I must say of the surgeons of today 
 that, with their antiseptic treatment, there is seldom a 
 case they can not cure. 
 
 ''The law department was in the hands of John W. 
 Bryant, Wm. H. Letcher, and Capt. Reid of Mexican 
 war fame. He afterwards moved to Kansas City. 
 
 ' ' Other good and noble men, both in law and medicine, 
 succeeded these ; but I speak only of the '49s. 
 
 ''I have seldom had the pleasure of meeting you, if 
 at all, for you are of a younger generation; but I was 
 well acquainted with an old gentleman of your name 
 at Arrow Rock. His son was a physician, married a 
 lady of Arrow Rock, and moved to Springfield, Mo. 
 Your article called up so many recollections of the past 
 that I could not forbear writing to you, and I shall say 
 nothing more in the way of apology. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Glen 0. Hardeman." 
 
 DID McCORMICK DESIGN THE FIRST REAPER 
 
 FROM A MODEL MADE BY A SALINE 
 
 COUNTY FARMER? 
 
 I have read with great pleasure and interest the article 
 written by Dr. Glen 0. Hardeman in a late issue of the 
 Democrat-News. No one was better informed or better 
 qualified to write concerning the early history of Saline. 
 He was a man of talent, an original thinker, a born 
 gentleman, with as acute a sense of the ridiculous as 
 any man I ever knew. 
 
 Dr. Hardeman was living in Arrow Rock, a retired 
 physician, in 1866, when the cholera was raging there 
 and about 30 people died within a month. I met him 
 frequently during that visitation, and both of us were in- 
 terested in observing how our fellowman carries himself 
 in trials like that. One thing was noticeable and instruc- 
 
 91 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 tive, I think. Lying is as often the result of an excited 
 imagination as of deliberate purpose to deceive. Almost 
 half the population left the town during the scourge, 
 and those who remained were continually thinking and 
 talking of the dread visitor. If some citizen complained 
 of a slight pain in the stomach, that little pain, growing 
 more severe as reported from mouth to mouth, would 
 soon place its victim in the last stages of cramp and col- 
 lapse. Shut off from the world around it, the town was 
 full of false rumors, and yet the people who did the 
 yarning were the most frightened, and therefore leasit 
 likely to lie deliberately. Is it not well to be more char- 
 itable to our brothers of the Ananias club? 
 
 Arrow Rock was visited three times by cholera; first 
 about 1832, next in 1850, and last in 1866. That disease 
 always followed the navigable streams, supposedly be- 
 ing carried by river boats. I have heard that in 1832 
 the disease was so serious in Arrow Rock that there were 
 not sufficient well people to wait upon the sick, and that 
 Esq. Wm. M. Davidson, one of the original Sappington 
 school fund trustees, and his wife, who was a Miss Ven- 
 able, left their home in the country, came to town and 
 and ministered to the sick and dying, at the risk of their 
 own lives. Such noble deeds ought not to be forgotten. 
 They were the parents of D. D. Davidson, county-judge 
 elect of Saline, and four other sons who do not disgrace 
 their honored ancestors. 
 
 Dr. Hardeman told me of an incident which occurred 
 during a former visitation of the cholera in Saline, about 
 1850, I think, which amused him. He was riding horse- 
 back visiting patients, and crossing the open prairie not 
 far from where Jeff Allen now lives, on Camp Creek, 
 when he saw a long, gangling, young fellow riding to- 
 wards him in a gallop. His legs were so long that he 
 clapped his heels together under the pony he rode. When 
 he got within about two hundred yards he stopped the 
 pony and yelled : ''Hey ! Doc ! Do you think if a fellow 
 went down to the Rock there would be any danger of 
 his gettin a little dab of the choleray?" On being told 
 that if he wanted to visit ' ' the Rock, ' ' even after having 
 consulted a physician, his chance for ' ' a little dab ' ' was 
 not hopeless, he turned his pony, clapped his heels to- 
 
 92 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 gether and rode off in a long lope, without saying an- 
 other word. ''Doc" did not know the equestrian ap- 
 parition, but was probably known by him as a doctor, 
 on account of the saddle-bags all physicians carried in 
 those days. 
 
 I wonder if it is generally known that Dr. Hardeman 's 
 brother, Locke Hardeman, a wealthy hemp-grower near 
 Arrow Rock, was the originator of the idea which result- 
 ed in the invention of the mower, the reaper and all 
 modern machinery for harvesting? He invented a ma- 
 chine propelled by horse power, which he operated in 
 his fields for the cutting of hemp. It was said to be cum- 
 bersome and only partially successful, but the father of 
 the present Cyrus H. McCormick, a Virginian by birth, 
 who invented the first mower, heard of the machine, 
 came to Saline, stayed a week with Hardeman and re- 
 ceived from him the ideas which have resulted in the 
 harvesting of grain by machinery and motive power — 
 an invention which has revolutionized the world of agri- 
 culture. 
 
 If this is true, and I have often heard it is, the fact 
 ought to be established and the honor due accorded to 
 the originator of the idea. I think there is no doubt 
 Locke Hardeman put in operation the first farm machine 
 ever propelled by horsepower. That it was not perfect 
 might be expected. McCormick 's first mower was crude, 
 and would not.be accepted as a gift. The first locomo->^ow 
 tive engine was far from perfect, as was the first steam- 
 boat and the first passenger car. 
 
 Locke Hardeman died before I came to Saline, but by 
 all accounts he was a model type of the old-fashioned 
 Southern gentleman, well-bred, upright,^ out-spoken, a 
 good friend and neighbor, and — surest test of all — just, 
 merciful, considerate and tender with his bondsmen. The 
 slave holder had it in his power to be a tyrant and a 
 brute. If he w^as of the^metal, he also had the opportu-"tru.e 
 nity to develop and cultivate the noble qualities which 
 made him a prince among men. Many of Locke Harde- 
 man 's old servants lived around Arrow Rock and I never 
 heard anything but praise of their old master from them. 
 A part of the poetry and romance of the old South is 
 
 93 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 the affectionate and loyal relation which existed between 
 the black and white families growing up together in the 
 days of slavery — a relation as honorable to the black man 
 as to the white. 
 
 I have heard it said of Locke Hardeman that his in- 
 fluence with young men who came in contact with him 
 was very great and very beneficent. Many of them, now 
 elderly men, give him credit for directing their minds 
 to high ideals and an honorable life. 
 
 94 
 
INDEX. 
 
 AneelL James EL. pp. IT. l^. 
 
 45- 46- 47. 
 AneelL Whl H- 18. 
 
 AzicelL Elitlia- IS. 
 Andtrs-cn. David. It. 
 AueltT. Sail -5^. 
 AUtn. Jeff- i>t. 
 
 BecfcntlL Cap-u Wm^ U. 
 Basbv Farm. 10- 
 Bnekner. ikirs. C- M.. 1" iv* 
 Barfcidale, Mt„ IS- 
 Bartsdale- Bd_ IS. 
 Bineiiam- George. IS. 
 Baker- JoIhl 1,^. 
 Bowers. Ut. G. H- 19. 
 Bin^Jiam- General 2<>- 
 BecloielL Heniy. -4. 
 Brownlee, Andrev. 25. SO. 
 BiB^iamL Jolm, 25. 
 Boj-er, Dr. \V. DeTsls. -51. 
 Besolst^ Joim. 4i'. 41. 4^ 
 Benoist, Autome, 4': 
 Bobbitt. Jobn. 48, 4,^ 
 Blaar. Frani P_ 57. 5S, -5i*, ^'-'. 
 Bqix. Ad_ 5it. 
 Barnes. Geors-e, W. 
 Biasliam. George C «. 
 Baker. Mrs J. M.. «f». 
 Barnes. Wm. E.. S?, ST. 
 Baker. George. S6. 
 Bryant. Jobn W^ SL 
 
 Clait MarkjiL, 10, rL 
 Coltrane- D. B., 18. 
 Chase, Kna^p, IS, 2^- 4^ 45. 
 44. 
 
 Cooper. Hemy. IS. 
 C!ia~e. Ed.. 1&. 
 Coi. Jesse. 24. 
 Coi. Miss Pa-sy. 24. 
 
 CarrolL diaries. 25. 
 Cooper. Mrs_ 26. 
 Compton. Rev. Warren. 40. 41. 
 Cramer. Mrs.. 4v. 41. 
 
 Cooper, Lee, pp. 4S, 50. 
 Cocper. CcL James. 4S. 
 Cooper. Col Stephen. €0. 
 Carson. Kit. SL 
 Carson. Robert. SL S2. 
 Carscn. Hamilion. SL 
 
 I>in>ett. Mrs. Frances. 17. 
 ricterson. Jolm C- 18. 
 Dysaru Doctor. IS. 20. 
 Dunlap. Dr. J. X_ ZZ. 
 Durrett- Dr. F. R_ 36. ^3. 
 Dinsmore. Tom. 48. 
 Eaiidscn. Wm. M, S2. 
 Daridscn. D. D., S2- 
 
 Epple. Jake, 19. 
 Edirards, PliIL 47. 
 
 Fen-wick. Ge-orge. 18. 
 Elser Bros- li^- 
 Finley- Asa. 2-5. 
 
 Gaimt. Manie-s-. 18. 
 GTeene. Bill 20. 
 Gregg. W'm_ 24. 
 Gre-gory- Arclu 7L 72. ~Z. 
 
 Honck. Hon. Loms. S. 12. 
 Hnsicn- Joseph. 17. 20, 25. 3L 
 
 .52. ZZ. -S4. 36. 37. 
 Hnsicn. Erasmus. 17. 
 Hns-.cn. Samuel 17. 18. 20. 84, 
 
 S5. 
 Hnsion. Jolm (colored*. IS. 34. 
 Hardeman. Dr. Gl^m 0_ IS, 
 
 67. 68. 8S. W*. SL S2. 
 p--- r!=-!:2,r^ ?r_ 1?. 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Huston, Nicholas, p. 30. 
 Howard, Williamson P., 53. 
 Hardeman, Thomas, 67, 68. 
 Karris, Mrs. Martin, 69. 
 Hardeman, J. Locke, 90, 91, 
 
 92, 93. 
 Hix, Dr., 90. 
 
 Ish, Wm. L., 78, 89. 
 
 Jackson, Wm. S., 20, 60. 
 Jackson, Gov. Claiborne F., 
 
 38, 79. 
 Jones, David, 67, 68, 69. 
 
 Kidd, Frank, 50. 
 Kincheloe, Margaret, 69. 
 Kibler, Mrs. J. H., 69. 
 
 McMahan, Jesse, p. 81. 
 McCain, Ephraim, 89. 
 McCormick, Cyrus H., 93, 94. 
 
 Neil, Mr., 18. 
 
 Nowlin, Peyton, 25, 77. 
 
 Nave, Henry, 26, 27, 28, 29, 78. 
 
 Napton, Judge, 30. 
 
 Nave, Abram, 53. 
 
 O'Brien, , 18. 
 
 Putsch. William, 18, 20. 
 Petitt, "Dock," 18. 
 Patterson, J. W., 18. 
 Patten, Jay M., 19. 
 Penn, Dr. George, 25, 53. 
 Price, Col. John T., 60. 
 
 Long, Major, 9, 24, 25. 
 Leffler, John, 18. 
 Lamkin, John C, 19. 
 Leek, Jerry, 24. 
 Lawless, Burton, 25. 
 Lail, Frank, 45. 
 Lawton, Mr., 50, 51. 
 Lewis, Charles Q,, 54. 
 Leininger, Philip, 54. 
 Lyons, Capt., 54. 
 Letcher, Wm. H.. 58, 91. 
 Lindsay, L. T., 88. 
 Lankford, Maj. George, 89. 
 
 Marshall Farm, 10. 
 Mills, Henry S., 17, 18. 
 Miller, H. C, 17, 18, 39, 45, 
 
 46, 47, 85. 
 McMahan, R. J., 18. 
 McGuffin, John, 18, 19. 
 McClelland, Dr. R. W.. 19. 
 Miller, Ed, 19, 42, 43, 44. 
 McGuffin. Mrs. John, 19. 
 McMahan. Jesse, 19. 
 Mitchell, Ed. H., 19, 42. 
 Marshall, Richard, 25. 
 Marmaduke, Meredith M., 25. 
 Mooney. Nick. 50. 51. 
 Marmaduke, John S.. 54. 
 Marmaduke. Col. Vincent, 60. 
 McMahan, Mrs. T. C. 69. 
 Murrell, George A., 74. 
 McLane. Ephraim. 78. 
 Marshall, Richard, 79. 80. 
 
 Renault, Philip. 10. 
 Richart Farm, 10. 
 -Rainey, T. C, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 17, 
 
 21. 
 Robertson, Nelse, (colored), 
 
 18, 34. 
 Redmon, Doctor, 19. 
 Rader, Rev. A. M., 19. 
 Reynolds, Peter, 56. 
 Roosevelt, Theodore. 58. 
 Ruble, Jane, 68. 
 Reid, Wm., 69. 
 Reid, Anna. 69. 
 Reid. Jesse R.. 69. 
 Reid, Capt, 91. 
 
 Sutherlin, Capt. Carter M., 
 
 18, 20. 
 Slusher, John, 19. 
 Sites, John P. 19, 42, 43, 44. 
 Scripture, Mrs., 19. 
 Stean, Mrs., 19. 
 Sappington, Mrs. Darwin, 19. 
 Sappington, Frank, 20. 
 Sibley. George. 23, 24. 
 Smith, General Thomas A., 25. 
 Sappington, Dr. John, 25, 31, 
 
 76, 77. 78, 80. 
 Sappington. William B., 25, 
 
 76, 77. 78. 
 Stein. Mrs.. 37. 
 Scott. Uncle Billy. 45, 46. 
 Sappington. Barney, 49, 50. 
 Shannon, Dit. 52. 
 
Along the Old Trail. 
 
 Staples, Wm., pp. 55, 56. 
 Staples, Col., 55. 
 Striker, I. O., 86. 
 
 Thompson, John C, 17, 32. 
 Townsend, Ben. P., 17, 53, 81. 
 Taylor, John, 18. 
 Townsend, Saunders, 25, 80. 
 Tucker, Beverly, 25. 
 Thornton, James, 56. 
 Turley, Mrs. W. C, 69. 
 Tyler, Mrs. W. M., 69. 
 Thompson, Sr., Mrs. John C, 
 
 75, 76. 
 Thornton, John, 78, 79. 
 Thornton, Isaac, 78. 
 Thornton, Daniel, 78. 
 
 Vial, Don Pedro, 13. 
 Venable, Miss, 92. 
 
 West, Steve, p. 17. 
 West, James A., 17, 18. 
 Wood & Huston, 18, 63, 71, 
 
 72. 
 Webb, John, 18, 20, 57. 
 Wilhelm, Henry S., 18. 
 Wilhelm, John H., 18. 
 Wilhelm, W. B., 18. 
 Watts, Daniel, 19. 
 Wall, John, 20. 
 White, Judge Hugh L., 25. 
 Wood, Will H., 31, 32, 33, 34. 
 
 35, 36, 37, 55, 60. 64, 65. 
 White, Mose, 51, 52. 
 Wood, Dr. D. D., 60. 
 Wood, Uncle Charlie, 65, 66, 
 
 67. 
 West, John, 71. 
 Weedin, Henry, 89. 
 Wallace, Dr. 90.