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Showing posts with label Anson Seeley Andrews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anson Seeley Andrews. Show all posts

Saturday, November 5, 2016

The Memoirs of John Andrews, Part 4

Here is Part 3 of the Memoirs: Farm Inventions, Politics, and Business.

Father’s Death, Marriage to Mirinda, and New Business Ventures

When the schoolhouse at “Yankeytown” was burned, it contained a small library which of course suffered the same fate. In building the new house, a room was arranged for installing a library in the future, and after a few years it was commenced first by voluntary donations of books and money, and enough was realized in the latter way to purchase more. This was about 1852.

Additions were made in like manner until probably 1856 to 1858, when a wealthy philanthropist of New Harmony anticipated Carnegie in his library gifts by a number of years by giving libraries, if certain conditions of his will were complied with, the sum of five hundred dollars—and as ours fully met the requirements of the will, we got what was called the equivalent in books, but we had no choice in selecting them. We felt that there was collusion between the executor of the will and the bookseller, but rather than make a row, we receipted for what we had.

In 1854 at a meeting of those most interested, a plan was discussed for the loaning of the books, and also for someone to see to it. As no one would wish to spend much time as librarian in this small affair it resulted in choosing Saturday afternoon for distribution and a turn-about for the job of the librarian.

Father and Mother were then on a visit to two sisters of Mother’s—Dorcas Palmer in Ohio and Aunt Mary Smith in Michigan. She was the mother of George A. Smith. Father was so impressed with George’s financial ability that he offered to loan him quite a sum to aid him in a mercantile business. They were gone on this visit three months.

We had a tenant on the farm for several years, and with his help, and when occasion required other help was employed, I kept the farm work going and at the same time paid some attention to the store, which was prospering now with a competent clerk. I think that Father was pleased with results in the farm and was satisfied that I could operate the store to advantage. In a manner he suggested that I take personal control of that also. This was very gratifying to me, and what experience I had in that direction had shown me that I was a better salesman than any clerk we had before.

At this same time the cooperation mill was being built, and perhaps Father exerted himself too much both physically and mentally. He was stricken with what was called congestion chills, and in a few days he died, aged 68 years. Father’ death at this time was a great shock to us and was also a serious loss to the neighborhood community. It entailed on me responsibilities in a financial way that no previous occasions in that direction had occurred to help me to meet.

Fortunately for me nearly all the small obligations that were due him were settled. The main obligation was consolidated in the larger loan to George Smith, which I was able to satisfy at the suggested time the following spring with the specified amount, $2500, and receiving in return his note and his father’s endorsement, and mortgage on sufficient real estate to secure it. This ran for several years at a satisfactory rate of interest. He was very successful in his business, and also in a political way, serving in the State legislature, first in the lower house, then in the Senate for several terms. When the time came that I wished to use the money for a different purpose, he was well able to satisfy me. He died a few years later, aged 68.

Soon after Father’s death and before his will had been acted on, some business matters that were under way stopped for the want of a head, and here I had to assume the responsibility to go on with plans as formulated and soon affairs were in good working order.

The mill was being built under the supervision of a competent miller, one of the largest subscribers who had been a miller all his life. As most of the funds were advanced by Father to the subscribers in the form of loans, and as Father’s death under these conditions at once stopped construction, he—the miller—inquired of me what he should do. I told him to continue as proposed and that the necessary funds would be furnished. Work was soon resumed and in a few months the mill was completed in all its details and operations commenced. The miller’s name was Samuel Black. James Hinkley, who had lately returned from California and took a financial interest, was installed as engineer, and operations commenced and successfully continued for several years. A fine article of both flour and meal was made and found a ready and profitable market in New Orleans.

After a few days Father’s will was read and then probated.

It was satisfactory to all concerned. He appointed his nephew Anson S. Osborn and his most intimate friend Eben Ellis executors. In due time they settled the estate satisfactorily.

He had quite a library for that time and place of standard works of history, biography, and various other subjects. This collection had its beginning while he was in business in New York and additions to it in his latter days. The will specified that this was to be divided in three parts, to my sister Harriet, to Seth and myself. This was done, but it was a pity it had to be as it broke off its value as a whole.

To Seth and myself the farm, jointly or divided as we chose, to Mother a specified sum of money, and the profits of the farm during life. To Harriet a sum of money and eighty acres of land, mostly timber, two miles east of Farmersville. This bequest was intended—and did—equal in value one share in the farm. As I had but little money that I could use of my own, I had to borrow of Mother and Harriet for a time to keep farm, mill and store in successful operation.

In 1856 Harriet and James Hinkley were married. In 1857, having some funds that I felt free to use and knowing that James controlled Harriet’s legacy, I proposed a joint investment in a new business that had for some time been appealing to me.

Most of the farmers had apple orchards and by this time in full bearing. Apple bees were common—the young people getting together, and surrounding a generous pile of fine fruit would spend a pleasant evening in preparing the fruit for drying. This was done by spreading the pared and divided apples on large scaffolds in the sun, or stringing the sections on needle and thread so they could be hung up to dry in the house over the fire or unused rooms. Still, as the crop increased as the trees grew larger, there came to be quite a surplus and much left to waste.

[A bee in the 19th century was a work party.]

But now buyers began to buy up, pack and market them. Insects or disease had not injured it, and a ready and profitable market was developed. It surely seemed an easy way to make money. Why not try it on a larger scale? Here was Illinois joining us on the west with cheap lands and fine market facilities by both railroad and water in all directions. James had a small farm joining ours on which he was planting an orchard. I suggested that we go to Illinois and plant a large one.

After a few days reflection he assented to my proposition and in November 1857 we went and bought 165 acres in Washington county. We paid in due time $15.00 an acre. My cousin Anson Osborn was a nurseryman and on his farm joining ours had a fine lot of the then standard varieties, and the following spring—1858—we bought and shipped to our new purchase some three thousand trees, enough to plant eighty acres. This was one of the first, if not the first commercial orchard ever planted in the state. With some mishaps, through lack of experience, in a few years we had a fine orchard of apple and peach trees in bearing. It was a wonderful and pleasing surprise to me the extraordinary growth the trees made in that apparently worn out soil and the early response in a few years in fruit bearing. This place was 80 miles west from our home in Indiana.

We had employed a man with a family we had always known to take care of it, and they had moved there as soon as planting was finished. He was a good worker but lacked efficiency, and in a year or two they got homesick for their old associates, and returned to Indiana, necessitating a change.

At this time Miss Piper and I, after a year or more correspondence and some personal visits, were married in Lincoln, Illinois, on the 21st September 1858 and immediately went to my home.
For various reasons we thought it best to sell the farm and did so, giving possession the first of March following.

This enabled us to settle the estate in the manner the will prescribed, as the store building was on the farm yet was included in the sale, but the goods remained in the possession of the stock holders and continued business with a competent manager for some time. The mill was distinct and on ground purchased and owned by the stockholders. In both of these interests I retained and added to my shares. Previous to the sale of the farm Mother and Seth had gone to Genessee, Wisconsin, and bought a farm there.

In the spring of 1859 Mirinda and I bid goodbye to Farmersville and went to her father’s at Lincoln [Illinois], stopping a short time at the orchard where I planned some work for the tenant to do. As this was the first time Mirinda had ever been separated for any length of time from her people it was a very happy meeting. Down at the orchard there was several log buildings for stables and a large one of only one room and loft for the tenant. The Finches were living in this and had made it very comfortable. Yet it seemed necessary to build a new house if we should stay there for any length of time, so after stopping at Lincoln for a few days, I went back to make arrangements to build.

Cairo, Illinois, in the 1850s
I arranged with Finch to get out the sills, etc., and then I went down the Illinois Central Railroad to within a few miles of Cairo. There in a swampy locality was fine timber of poplar and cypress and mills competing with each other, very anxious to sell and raise a little money. For two or three days I selected and loaded on the cars quite a lot more than I had intended in the first place. I felt that it would all be needed in time and that never again could it be had at the-then prices. On getting back I was fortunate to find several carpenters wanting work, and they at once went to work, and in six weeks we had a house large enough for two small families. I then sent for Mirinda and in a few days she came and we went to housekeeping.

James Hinkley and Harriet had now sold their home in Indiana and they came and occupied one half the house and we the other. I had bought doors and sash for the windows and got the siding dressed, and we were able to putty in the glass and do the painting. The plastering of the house we left till late summer. It was managed by James while Mirinda and I were on a long visit at her father’s. We had not expected to make this our permanent home but thought to get things started and take time to look around.

With some of the surplus lumber we fixed up the old log house in good shape and we lived in part of it and boarded with the Finches while building the new house. This was Washington County Post Office and R.R. Station, a small place, some shops, two stores, a pharmacy and a very good doctor, and a large depot building in which lived the station agent, who was also the postmaster.

The location and the inhabitants did not appeal to us as a permanent place to reside, and we had not gone there with that expectation. The people were nearly all from the southern states, and consequently the society was not congenial, especially for Mirinda and Harriet. We remained there till 1860 when James and Harriet went to Rockford and Mirinda to her father’s, and I remained for a time at the orchard.

This was the year Lincoln was elected, and as I had now gained my citizenship I had the pleasure of casting my third presidential vote, and this time for the successful aspirant, for that high office, A. Lincoln. I had in 1852 voted for John P. Hebe, the free soil candidate who was defeated by Franklin Pierce and in 1856 for the gallant pathfinder John C. Fremont [who was defeated by James Buchanan]. In the fall of 1860 I made a trip on horseback to Indiana and on my return I joined Mirinda at Lincoln.

Our first child, Charles, was born at Lincoln in October 1859, and our second, Harry, in 1861. Charles was born while his Grandma was living. She died [January 1861, age 46]. We had gone there on my part that Mirinda could be with her mother for a long visit. Both of these boys were to their proud parents very handsome and were made much of by their Aunt Anna, a very bright and beautiful girl of 6 to 7 years old [she was actually 12 in the spring of 1861].

The death of Mrs. Piper occurred while we were making preparations to go there, but as we had agreed to and as Mr. Piper had asked me to come and take charge of his farm for the season, we went there in March 1861, just before Lincoln was inaugurated [inauguration day was March 20]. As soon as the season opened for farm work, the two boys [Mirinda’s brothers Asa and Charles, ages 17 and 15], and myself got to plowing and in May to planting. For reasons of his own Mr. Piper sent Charles to a friend at Mt. Pulaski and that left Asa and I to do the farm work. As there was no small grain, all the plowed ground, some twenty-five or thirty acres, was planted to corn. We got the planting done with some help in good season, and a good stand of corn rewarded our effort and after cultivation gave us a good crop.

In the place of small grain there was a large piece of heavy meadow. Now the question was how was that to be harvested? A part of it was sold on the ground to some of his friends, but the larger part was left for Asa and myself to manage. The men to whom Mr. Piper had sold a part of it went at it with their scythes, and he expected me to do the same. At this I demurred and on inquiry, I found there was a mowing machine in the vicinity that could be hired. I told Asa to look it up. I did not propose to do by hand what could be more readily done by horse power.

Mr. Piper evidently thought I was taking advantage of his offer to harvest it on the ½ shares he had proffered for managing his farm. But knowing the better way I was obdurate. Asa found the machine and employed the owner to come and cut the grass. A hay rack was found a few miles away and that being secured, we were ready for the job, and as the weather was fine, with some additional help, we soon had it all in the stack.

Soon after the corn was ready to lay by, and I was anxious to prepare for the future. James Hinkley in 1859 had left the orchard home and found Rockford satisfactory to him and had bought some property there, had a house built, and moved there in November 1860. When we got the farm work where a vacation of a few weeks would not interfere, I went to visit them—James and Harriet—at their home in Rockford. This was in July 1861. I was pleased with the town and surrounding country, and my only objection was that it was so far north. Realizing that the sisterly sympathy existing between Harriet and Mirinda was a strong factor in making a new home, I took an option for a short time on a lot of seven acres in the city limits adjoining James’ tract of ten acres. The price was about $200 an acre.

Then before closing the deal I went back to Lincoln and soon after down to the orchard. The Finches having left, I installed a new tenant—James Longfellow.

I then went to Farmersville, Indiana, on horseback, a two day trip. This was not a pleasant one. The Civil War was raging, the people were largely southern sympathizers and the Union men kept quiet. At one small village a peculiar and suspicious flag was flying. I went in a public house where there was on the floor the national emblem [the flag of the United States]. Seeing it there, I made an inquiry about the unfurled emblem. I received no satisfactory answer, but the approach of a number of apparent investigators suggested that it might be the part of prudence to resume my journey.


The next day I reached Farmersville. The store buildings with most of the goods had burned the year previous and a very modern store occupied its place. The old cooperative company was superseded by an individual management. My loss by the burned store was several hundred dollars. The mill was still adding to my income in a very generous manner.

On this occasion I settled up all my business there, and in order to do so in one case took a nice buggy to balance an account. Buying a harness, I put my horse to the buggy, my saddle and belongings, including quite a sum of money, in it and started on my return trip.

On my return from Indiana on this occasion I stopped at the orchard for several days. We had quite a drove of hogs, some 60 or 70 head that with proper feed would be marketable in a few months. While in Farmersville a former neighbor was inquiring for stock of that kind to feed, and knowing that we had not sufficient corn at Dubois of our own, I thought this a good chance to get rid of them. Getting a good offer, I sold the lot to be delivered at a town on the Wabash about 70 miles away. This plan was carried out and a check for quite a sum was received.

As the horse that had taken me to and from Indiana could not be spared from the farm, it had to be replaced. Having a number of unbroken colts, I exchanged two of them for a fine large one and started on the way to Lincoln where I arrived after ten days’ absence.

I now closed up the deal for the lots in Rockford. As money at this time was in great demand I received a large rebate for the cash payment of the whole sum. I made arrangements with a carpenter in Rockford to build a house, indicating as near as I could by letter the point or place to build and sending the plan I wished followed.

Ellen Hall, an adopted girl of Mother’s that had been with us for some time and all the while we were at Lincoln helping in the housework on the farm, was sent to Rockford by railroad and also all our household goods.

Here is the final episode. Part 5: Fruit Farming and Permanent Roots in Rockford

Friday, November 4, 2016

The Memoirs of John Andrews, Part 3

Here are the previous parts of the memoirs:
Part 1: School Days, 1835 to 1850
Part 2: Relatives and Travels
Part 2a: That Daguerreotype


Farm Inventions, Politics, and Business

After our long vacation I felt that I must be doing, but as it was the beginning of winter, farm work for the present was largely suspended. Stock had to be cared for, wood provided for the coming year, fences repaired, and sundry jobs as they came up.

Father was an enthusiastic conservator of any material that would add fertility to the soil and looked upon the universal habit of burning the old cornstalks to get them out of the way for the succeeding crop as a waste. He sought for some way to avoid that and even went to the expense of time and labor in cutting them up by hand. This was slow work, but very necessary then so that with the plows we had, they would be put out of [the] way of future cultivating. It was suggested that a tool might be made to do the work as well, and I was put on the job and succeeded. This was operated by horse power and was about the first move in the practical employment of mechanical versus hand labor. There was a plow exhibited at the Fair that so interested me, that on my detailing it to Father, the next time he went to Cincinnati he bought one, and the result was almost a revolution in preparing the ground for crops. In the mowing machine I saw a great possibility of relief of that hardest, heaviest hand labor of the summer, work in the meadows with the scythe, and I decided that in due time it must take its place on the farm.

Revolving hay rake
I think it was in 1848 that we got a revolving hay rake, the first real labor saving machine, as it efficiently and rapidly did the work of the hand rake in collecting the hay into windrows. This was a great help in the meadow and was used for some years before and after the advent of the mower until the steel tooth horse rake superseded it.

Steel mower of the 1840s
In the spring of 1854 some of my neighbors had the chance to get mowers and reapers. I got a mower.

Manny mower-reaper


Some got combined mower and reaper—by the way the latter were made by F.H. Manny of Rockford—somehow I did not consider the reaper a real labor saver, and my after experience satisfied that I was right, but the mower lifted a heavy burden from the farmer, and tired arms and aching back felt a glad relief when the scythe was hung up in the old mulberry tree. The mower was a crude affair, but it would cut grass at the rate of eight or ten acres per day, and also left it in the condition to dry without further attention until it was ready for the rake. Father for years had grown an early variety of grass called Orchard Grass, in a small way, as a supplement to piece out the depleted hay mow, and as no one else had it, it gave me the opportunity to be the first one to use a mower in the county.

The McCormick reaper
The reaper was a success so far as the mere cutting was concerned, but was a failure in reducing the expense of harvesting. It required the reaper—with a team and two men to operate it and at least five more to bind and shock; the maximum that was cut was eight acres per day, whereas with the cradle two men were expected to cut, bind and shock at least three to four acres. Myself and another by frequent changing from cutting to binding often put four acres in shock. It appears a paradox. But there were those so skilled in the use of the cradle that they could cut and deliver to the binder following as much as the reaper up to its maximum of eight acres. I once heard a man offer to bet one hundred dollars that he could cut with the cradle eleven acres and got no takers.

A team of men using scythe and cradle
Yes in those days as now, storms sometimes lodged the grain so that it could not be cut with cradles, and as up to this time resort was had to the sickle, a slow process and every day had to be utilized to save the crop and on Sundays the neighbors would meet at some farm where the owner was disabled or behind and help out. This was before the coming of the threshing machine. The old Egyptian and old testament threshing floor was still in vogue, and horses feet did the threshing and to save handling so much straw the tangled grain was thus harvested until the thresher came. In 1856 I became the possessor of a two horse tread power machine which could be used for various purposes. We could now cut the tangled grain with the mower and run it through the thresher. About this time some other types of threshers were introduced, but none exceeded the tread power in ability. But the increase in power of from two to eight horses would naturally result in a large increase, but in fact a number of those sweep powers broke down. I had employed a man to do custom work, and he had to finish up jobs unfinished.
A two-horse treadmill thresher


But all of these machines, including mine, merely passed it through, rakers had to remove the stem and then the grain through the fanning mill to separate the chaff. This improvement of the reaper continued. The self rake took the place of the hand rake, dispensing with the necessity of one man, only the driver was now needed. Soon came the Marsh harvester, when two active men riding on the machine bound the conveniently and automatically delivered sheaths.

Inventive genius was not yet satisfied; a self-binding attachment was sought and several attempts were made. The Burson brothers of Rockford made a wire binder, but it required two men to operate it. A number of their machines were made and distributed, but it was soon abandoned as the farmers found that their cattle in eating the straw as it came from the thresher also swallowed the wire with bad results.

Recourse was now turned to twine for the purpose and finally was accomplished, and I think that Mr. Graham a citizen of Rockford is entitled to the credit. The improvement in threshers kept pace with the binder. In delivering the grain cleaned for market, or for use, yet another great step followed in change from animal power to steam, making it possible to largely increase its capacity. I have wandered a long way from Posey County, Indiana, to Rockford, Illinois, and will try to return with my balking pen to the proper place in this erratic story.

Zachary Taylor
Millard Fillmore
Father was a Whig in politics. Our county and state normal was Democratic. The later Presidents were Democratic, but in 1842, the eclat of the Mexican War brought the successful General Taylor to the front as a candidate and by a large majority he was chosen as President. In a few months he died, leaving Vice-President Fillmore to fill out his term.

For several years a new element had been injected in the political pot. More liberal and uplifting political ideas were seething in the minds of many in both parties, and in 1852 a new party was formed and put a liberal anti-slavery man as candidate for the presidency—John P. Hale. Having reached my majority for the first time I had the privilege of exercising my political duty and did so by voting my county, state and national prejudices. If I remember right I lost on each count.

Meanwhile my farm work continued, and also I took an interest in the store and its management. Eleaser Ellis, the inaugurator with Father in the cooperative idea, was general clerk. The time came when it was necessary to have a name, and it was christened Farmer’s Protective Union, and goods were bought and shipped, produce bought and sold, and exchange was carried on under that name.

The business was a source of vexation to the merchants of Mount Vernon as cheaper prices curtailed their profits, and efforts were made to counteract this effect without avail. Both buying and selling was strictly cash. Some few of the farmers’ products were bought or exchanged for goods, but the principal thing was eggs. These came in large numbers, packed in barrels of 90 dozen eggs and three bushels oats, and were sent to New Orleans by steamboat. I do not think a lot thus handled ever failed to bring a handsome profit.

A mill for grinding grain—making flour and meal—was built and operated on the same plan as the store, but its operation was in such large excess of home demands that a profitable business resulted in sending the surplus to market. With the exception of these articles, I believe there was nothing else handled for profit.

The year 1854 was the dryest and some months the hottest ever known in Posey County. Winter wheat—we grew no spring wheat—was fine and also the hay was very good, but the corn crop on the whole was very meager, probably not more than five bushels per acre. Owing to wrong cultivation many fields were an utter failure. I gave our corn field excessive surface cultivation and had on an average over twenty bushels.

In the harvest that year I became overheated, perspiration stopped, and I had to seek the shade. I could work in the shade or night, but in the sun where it was necessary, unless some means could be found to counteract it, it would be death to work. In those days we wore top boots. I got a pail of water and wet my head and clothes thoroughly, filled my boots with water and was able to resume my labors and for more than twenty years I had to resort to my pail of water in very hot sunshine. Now I am thankful nature has run out and think I could endure the heat of equatorial sunshine with composure. The trouble was that perspiration ceased in the hot sunshine. The wet clothing answered in its place, evaporation keeping the body cool.

Here is Part 4: Father’s Death, Marriage to Mirinda, and New Business Ventures.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

The Memoirs of John Andrews, Part 2

Here is Part 1 of the Memoirs of John Andrews.

Relatives and Travels

My father was born in Bethel town, Fairfield county, Connecticut, in the year 1786. He was the older of three brothers: himself, Anson Seeley; Seth; and John Lyman; and two sisters, Mary and Julia. On reaching maturity, he evidently in the division of the estate sold his interest in it to his brothers, taking the proceeds and after teaching school for a few terms, entered into some mercantile business in New York City.

General store of the 1820s, Shelburne Museum, Vermont
After some years in this, for reasons of his own he went west, and in the year 1818, the year that Indiana added its star to the galaxy on the grandest flag the world has ever known—he bought a small tract of land direct from the United States Government, the patent deed issued and signed by then-President of the United States [James Monroe] or his Secretary. I think he was fortunate enough to find that some squatter had cleared up a small piece as it was all timber, and certainly he had a hard job facing him; but as he was a resourceful man, he accomplished his purpose and in a few years must have been getting returns for his investment and labor. The property was situated three and one half miles from Mount Vernon on the beautiful Ohio river, at this place one mile wide.

Ohio River flatboat
Mount Vernon at that time could have been only a very small village, but by its situation commanded the market, small though it was, of a large section of the country. This county’s peculiar situation, bounded on the south by the Ohio and on the west by the Wabash, made its capitol, Mount Vernon, conspicuous as a shipping place and also as a market for the produce growing in the vicinity of these streams and their tributaries, the merchants buying from the farmers and forwarding it to seaboard by means of flatboats, before the advent of steamboats. It was then a common sight to see this mode of transportation floating down with the current, aided at times by the sweep of immense oars.

New Orleans was then, as now, the seaboard market to a vast extent of territory and it was by means of these boats that for many years the products of these lands found the way to market. But I am getting off the track, getting ahead of my story as some of this should have come in later.

Father’s farm was bounded on the east by the State road from Mount Vernon to New Harmony, quite a noted place at this time and for quite a while after, and was situated on the Wabash River some fifteen miles north of Mount Vernon. On the south it was bounded by an earth road intersecting the State road at the southeast corner of the farm. Near this corner in time a number of houses and shops were built, and of course it must have a name. As most of the people in the immediate vicinity were from the eastern states, it got to be known far and near as “Yankee Town” with a great many. This name was spoken in a sneering way, as the majority of the population throughout the county were from the southern states, except in the immediate vicinity of this settlement. Father must have soon got his farm in working order and [was] realizing fair returns from it, for in a few years he built a very nice roomy house, quite a way back from both the east and south roads.

My mother was born in Massachusetts, one of the younger of a large family of both sexes. Her name was Elizabeth Butler. She left there with an older sister and her sister’s husband, Samuel Phillips, going to New York state and teaching school there for some time, and then journeying with them—her sister and husband—to Indiana, where they settled and commenced farming on some land adjoining Father’s and were his nearest neighbors, the state road on the east of Father’s merely dividing the two properties. Thus Father and Mother could not help becoming acquainted and eventually they were married, and at once went to live in the house prepared for them. In this house I was born, and lived in it until I was united to the blessed partner of my life.

In this union of my parents my father secured a model helpmate and my mother a provident husband. In the meantime Father was improving his farm, clearing more land, and gradually investing his means in livestock: cattle, hogs, and sheep, paying particular attention to milk cows. From the latter he soon derived a profit in the making and sale of cheese. In that for a long time he had no competition. He set his price at ten cents per pound, and that price was maintained for many years and was the largest source of his income. Here is where Mother came in as his most efficient helper. She saw to the milking, until more help was needed for that, and made and cared for the cheese. As time passed and work expanded, more help had to be employed. At the age of eight I became an assistant in milking, having two cows to milk night and morning, and seeing the cows to and from the pasture in summer. In winter [we had] only milk enough for butter and home use.

Another source of income which will seem incredible in these times of high cost of living was by taking boarders at one dollar per week and that included washing also, and at that price for many years a few boarders were cared for. A few students, sometimes from a distance, paid in work nights, mornings, and Saturdays.

In 1839 he built a combined house for a dwelling and store on the southeast corner of the farm at the crossroads, and he and Mother in the spring of 1840 went to New York and Bethel, Connecticut, to visit relatives and buy goods for the store, leaving an old lady we had learned to call “Granny” in charge of the house, and a cousin, Fred Phillips, to care for the farm and stock and keep up the cheese making, etc.

They [Father and Mother] were gone three months. On their return the store was stocked up and a clerk installed. I imagine this venture did not pan out very well, as probably too much credit was given. Anyway, after perhaps two years it was given up, with a large number of notes of hand [i.e., I.O.U.s from the neighbors] as the assets. As there was but little money to pay with, Father had to put his wits to work in order to get his due. Here is where his resourcefulness came in. Employing some in clearing up land and cutting wood, others in the different processes of making bricks, in building and burning the brick kiln, and after in building a brick basement barn, a brick annex to the house, and other jobs as they occurred, in this way in the course of two or three years he “cleared up the docket” and added much to the convenience and value of the farm.


House built later on the foundation of the 1839 house built by Anson Seeley Andrews. Photograph by Ernest John Andrews, October 1927.

Rear view of the red brick barn built on Anson Seeley Andrews’ farm in 1844 using bricks made in his own kiln. The barn was located about 200 feet west of the old home. Photograph by Ernest John Andrews, October 1927.


Up to 1850, although a triweekly mail by stage coach passed from Mount Vernon to Princeton 40 miles north, we received our mail at Mount Vernon. There was a common query—Why not try for a post office here?—and there was a decided movement in that direction. First a name and after various suggestions it was generally conceded that Farmersville was the most appropriate, and with that name we applied to the P.O. Department for an office, and after some correspondence and delay the demand was granted and Joseph Phillips was appointed Post Master. For a time he received and distributed the mail from his house. On account of his moving away, another was appointed and office removed to the store.

The store at this time was successfully operating on a cooperate plan which had been discussed and thoroughly worked out by Father and Eben Ellis, and soon quite a number in the vicinity took an interest and stock in the concern. Both the store and P.O. proved successful for a number of years.

In 1851 my sister Harriet and I went to New York and Connecticut. I had once been to Louisville by boat for a few days, but with that exception, we had never been away from home any distance. Our journey was made by boat from Cincinnati, thence to Cleveland by R.R. on the first cars we had ever seen, then by boat to Erie, cars to Buffalo, stopping off then to visit Niagara Falls, then to Albany, and down the Hudson River R.R. to New York, and Brooklyn, where we met for the first time some of our cousins, Mrs. May Taylor and her sister Miss Harriet Osborn. They were sisters of A.S. Osborn who had come west some years before, and had a farm adjoining ours on the south.

After some days there we went to Bethel, Connecticut, cousin Harriet accompanying us. We found there a host of relatives, near and distant, two brothers of Father, Seth and John Lyman and their families, and here we spent several pleasant weeks, seeing Danbury, Bridgeport, and New Haven, in each of these places finding relatives. Around here were many small factories, mostly hat and comb, and some quite extensive ones in large industries. Here for the first time we saw pictures taken by the then-recent process of Daguerre, and of course we had to sit for ours. It was a long ways from the instantaneous process of the present. [See an article on daguerreotype here.]

Returning to New York and Brooklyn, we were helped in sightseeing by some of our business relatives, Mr. Taylor, Mary Osborne’s husband, who had a hat store on Broadway, another cousin Andrews who dealt in clothing, etc., also on Broadway, and Samuel And]rews who, although a graduate of Yale College, and the only one of my kindred that I heard of who did, drove a dray to support his family , and perhaps he was more successful than his brothers. Those, Samuel, Anson, and a younger brother, were sons of John Lyman Andrews. Years after I met Anson at a small town in Peoria County, Illinois, not far from Galesburg, interested in some railroad work and farming. There was two sisters; the elder, Harriet, married a Universalist preacher, S.C. Buckley. She died a few years later and then Hannah married the same man and lived in Galesburg. I spent one day with them in 1886 and have never heard from them since. [A dray was a low, flatbed wagon without sides, pulled by mules or draft horses, for the transport of all kinds of goods. A drayman was a very low-skilled laborer.]

While [we were] in New York, a World’s Fair was in progress, the second one of that kind I think that had ever been promoted. The year previous, London, England, had a fair. It was held in a very large building almost entirely covered with glass, and was called the Crystal Palace, and the New York building was a replica of that. In one building there was a great many things on exhibition that were new to me, interesting and useful. The typewriter was a novelty and a wonder to most everyone, sewing machines and other household appliances, agricultural machinery in variety, such as plows, cultivators, mowing machines, reapers, etc. [The London Exhibition was in 1851; the New York in 1853. He was probably mistaken in remembering the exact year he and Harriet went east.]

A very early typewriting machine


Having wandered somewhat will now bid good-bye to our eastern relatives and to New York sightseeing, and take the homeward trail. We go by boat to Philadelphia, and after [a] short stop on to Washington. After being satisfied with sightseeing there, we take the cars for Wheeling, nearly the limits of navigation on the Ohio River, and at this, our last change, we take a boat for Mount Vernon. After a pleasant ride down that grand river, in due time, after a three months’ absence, we gladly reach home and find all well.

A steamboat on the Ohio River at Cincinnati being loaded

Here is a little post of the daguerreotypes that I found!
And here is Part 3, Farm Inventions, Politics, and Business.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

A Little Trip into the Past

I spent a week in the Chicago area this month and looked up the house that once had belonged to my great-grandfather Ernest John Andrews, a patent attorney with an office downtown in the Monadnock Building in Chicago. I pulled out a piece he had written in a nostalgic mood after having gone with his wife on a little trip around Illinois and into southern Indiana to visit scenes important to his father and grandfather during their lifetimes. He wrote it for his children, Fred, Roger, Helen Andrews Hinkley, and Glenn, and their cousins, John B., Rex B., Elizabeth Andrews French, Mae B., and Charles Francis Andrews. But I think it may be of interest to more than just his descendants. He is an interesting writer, and as I want to make this information available to all the descendants of Asa Norton, Asa Piper, and Anson Seeley Andrews, here it is.
*********

The Dominions of Our Ancestors

I am sending a copy of this article to each of the grandchildren of my father so that each may have a record, of some portion at least, of the lives of some of their ancestors, not only for their own use, but to preserve and hand down to others.

It is becoming more and more desirable to have sources of information of this nature with reference to our ancestors. There are many who, at some time in their lives, are particularly interested in matters of this nature and they will be unable to obtain much information that this article contains if it is not preserved in some form. Merely as illustrating what I have in mind I will say that, much as I need the money for other uses, yet I would gladly pay a hundred dollars merely for a good photograph of your great grandfather Andrews [Note: In 2015 his $100 would be worth more than $1300]. This is only one little item of my ancestry and yet it shows how highly I would prize the information of this article if I had no other sources for such information.

The article is not intended for pleasant reading; much of it may not be at all interesting and may be omitted. But there are certain portions that no doubt will be of interest and that you will, I think, find well worth a careful consideration. Perhaps a few suggestions will clarify my meaning.

You have all been intimately acquainted with your grandfather Andrews. In a general way, you know of his character and manner of living and his relations to others. This article tells much with reference to his boyhood days, years before you were born, and hence, in a way, it completes your knowledge of his life.

As to your grandfather’s character, if all were as he was, we would have no need for police or jailers, and little need for courts. We would have no need for sumptuary laws. The present controversy over the eighteenth amendment would have no place in our lives. Life perhaps would be too easy, too free from troubles to be good for the race, but certainly it would add much to the satisfaction of living.

While it may not have impressed you particularly, yet one of the strongest impressions that I have of your grandfather Andrews is as to his constant employment at something worthwhile. I have often felt, and even now, looking back over a period of sixty years, I still feel that your grandfather was the hardest working man that I have ever known. Not a drudge, not a slave, but always actively carrying out some useful plan. He took delight in his work and for sixty years or more, I presume he averaged at least ten or twelve hours a day, mainly at manual work, not excepting Sundays. While on Sundays he changed his work, more or less, from his vocation to his avocations, yet he was always usefully engaged.

He was always looking to the future, planning and building for that which was to come.

I should like to have you know of these things and to know something of your great grandfather Andrews, particularly some of the facts contained in this article. He was very much like your grandfather.

I am sure there is nothing more stabilizing in our lives than such knowledge as this. Not that any of you need stabilizing particularly, but there often come times in our lives when we need, in order to give to the world the best that is in us, the stabilizing effect that comes from the knowledge of a long line of worthy ancestors. And this I would like you to have.

****** ****** ****** ******

Ernest John Andrews' home in Lombard, Illinois,
from April 1913 through April 1939. Afterward,
Helen Andrews Hinkley owned this home.
On October 9, 1927, your mother and I started on our trip to Crawford County, Illinois, where many of your ancestors lived, and to Posey County, Indiana, where others lived. We drove down the Dixie Highway to Paris, Illinois the first day, and stayed all night at the Cherry Croft house, just beyond the center of Paris where the Dixie Highway turns to the east.

The next morning we drove down to Robinson, the County Seat of Crawford County, where we stopped several hours while I searched the records of the county court and circuit court for deeds, wills, and the like.

[I omitted the table of records that he found; if anyone wants it, let me know!]

Of these parties, Asa Norton was your great great grandfather and Thoda and Reuben Norton were his brothers. Polly Norton as his wife. Her maiden name was Mary Belknap. L.D. Norton was Asa Norton’s son. Benjamin Norton was Asa’s nephew. Beverly Bradley Piper was Asa’s son-in-law (your grandmother’s father). Sally, the wife of Avery Tobey referred to, was Asa Norton’s sister, and Sewell Goodridge was the husband of Asa’s sister Lydia, while William N. Norton was Asa’s son (your grandmother’s uncle).

I was unable to complete my search at Robinson owing to the closing of the offices and a further search should be made to obtain records of the entry of the land of Asa Norton in 1819. Apparently, these entries were not recorded during the period that I searched, but they were undoubtedly recorded later as the law requires such records in order to give good title to the land. Also, copies of more important deeds should be examined for interesting facts. These papers were very voluminous. I expected to be able to complete this work on the return trip but failed to do so.

We left Robinson about noon and went straight east some eight miles to Palestine, where about 1815 a fort was built as a protection against the Indians. Palestine was the old county seat of Crawford County. Then, leaving the southeast corner of Palestine across a bridge, we rode to Heathville, some twelve miles away. Heathville was the town of these Nortons and Pipers in those early days and is now the nearest town of what I have called our Ancestral Dominions of Crawford County. The road to Heathville from Palestine is also the road to Russellville, some eight miles further on, and it was a well travelled road, but neither paved nor well graded, at least during portions of the way. The surrounding country was largely clay soil and poor farm land, much of it being covered with underbrush and used for pasture. It is no such land as is to be found in northern Illinois.

At Heathville we inquired of the only store as to where the Nortons lived. The grandchildren are still living on the old Norton farm that was entered in 1819. I was referred to the neighboring garage with the statement that William N. Norton, whose house we were seeking, drove by not long before to the garage. I inquired at the garage and was directed to the Norton house and was told that William Norton had left but a short time before and that we would probably overtake him. Never having seen Mr. Norton, we carefully scrutinized the cars as we drove along. We overtook none that seemed to be Mr. Norton’s, though we did pass a man who was walking, whom we afterwards found out was Mr. Norton. Owing to the failure of the garage man to tell us that he was then working on Mr. Norton’s car and that Mr. Norton was walking home, we passed him just outside of Heathville and he was obliged to walk over two miles home when we should have been delighted to take him in our car. This merely goes to show how a little clarity smoothes life’s pathway.

We drove about two miles south from Heathville on the Russellville road and then turned west on a dirt road, and a quarter mile further, struck a little bridge and the lane leading to the north up to Mr. Norton’s house. We drove up a very steep hill to the house and met Mrs. Norton, who informed us that the old Asa Norton house was on the other side of the road. So we drove back and up another steep hill just south of the bridge and south of William Norton’s house to the house now occupied by Horace B. Norton, where we met him and his wife.

It was on this hill that Asa Norton built his house over one hundred years ago. This house was burned before 1888 and on the old foundation a new house was built, and it is here that Asa’s grandson Horace now lives. The old barns also were all gone. But the hills still remain. The Norton house was perched high up on a hill because, while on his way to this locality, Asa found the country along the Wabash River flooded and all of the low land covered with water; to avoid such floods he built his house on a high hill.

It was here that your great great grandfather fought his battle with nature as a farmer; it was here also that he was a member of the State Legislature and a Justice of the Peace; and it is here that his descendants have been since. It was in this neighborhood too, that Asa’s daughter Delia Deborah Norton, your great grandmother, married your great grandfather Beverly Bradley Piper, and it was here that she spent substantially all of her life as she was only three years old in 1817 when Asa Norton moved his family from Norwich, New York, finally arriving in Crawford County in 1819.

It was here also that your grandmother Andrews spent some of the most joyful years of her life, and where her grandfather, Asa Piper, also settled on a farm a century ago. His farm and house were just southeast of the corner where we turned from the Russellville road to the Norton place. It was here, too, that your grandmother’s father was raised, and in later years, after he was married to Delia Deborah Norton, their farm adjoined on the west that of her father, Asa Norton. Your grandmother Andrews not only lived there during a part of her childhood days, but in after years she often visited at her grandfather Asa Norton’s place, until the time she and your grandfather moved to Rockford, Illinois, in 1861.

We spent the afternoon with William and Horace Norton and their wives. We went down into the old Asa Norton basement and saw the old walls that were built by him over a hundred years ago. That is all of his handiwork that is left. But in the house is an old clock still going that was saved from the fire. And there is an old life-sized painting of Asa Norton, painted before he left for the west in 1817. He was certainly a fine looking man, and dressed in the frills of those days, he far surpasses any of you so far as elegance in clothes is concerned. The picture was injured by the fire, but was restored.

We went back to William Norton’s house, up on the hill across the road, and went northwest over to the old cemetery on Asa Norton’s farm. Here lie buried Asa Norton and his wife Mary Belknap, his son Wellington Bertolf Norton, his brother Thoda Norton, his son William N. Norton, and his daughter Mirinda Norton Parker, after whom your grandmother, Mirinda Parker’s niece, was named, and many others. Asa Norton’s grave bears no stone. It was his own wish that his grave be unmarked. The place, however, is marked sufficiently for recognition, lying immediately north of his wife’s grave. On her stone is the inscription, “Mary, wife of Asa Norton, died March 18, 1850, age 69 yrs, 6 ms, and 17 dys.” She was born in 1780. Asa Norton was born in 1781 and his wife was born the year before. This, I understand, was a sensitive point for your great great grandfather, to be a year younger than his wife. He was a very dignified man, straight as an arrow, having been a soldier for many years. Presumably it detracted from his idea of dignity to have a wife who was older than himself. A large cedar tree grows over the grave of Mary Norton, a tree perhaps seventy-five years old.

From the cemetery, we went back to the house and drove west on the road about a quarter of a mile to the corner, and then turned north and went by a schoolhouse, where once was located the old log schoolhouse that was also used as the church of the Pipers and the Nortons. The log building is gone now. But it was here that your great grandfather Beverly Bradley Piper gained his secular and religious training and where he was converted and where he preached, probably, for the first time.

It was here too, that Andrew Jackson Norton attended school and church and was converted and preached. Andrew Jackson Norton was a nephew of Asa Norton, and for fifty years he preached as a Predestinarian Baptist all over Illinois and Iowa. I have a copy of his diary in which he tells how he was converted from an aimless, drifting boy to an intense Fundamentalist, and how he spent all of his days preaching the gospel without pay other than as his parishioners produced. His account of his conversion is the most illuminating description of this nature that I have ever seen, probably because it is sincere and he seeks to tell the facts just as he experienced them. His soul was gripped by the horrors of Hell which were as real and vivid to him as is our conception of each coming day. He was an ignorant man, with practically no education except what he obtained at home, but he was sincere and intense and was firmly convinced of the literal truth of the Bible from the first page to the last. Much as we may disagree with the beliefs of such men as this, yet in their days they were needed and we must not only have for them great admiration, but must feel that it is owing much to them that our country is now blessed with the great masses of men and women whose characters can withstand the pressure of modern life.

It was in this schoolhouse also that Andrew Jackson Norton was married in 1839 by the Justice of the Peace, Asa Norton. And it was here that your great grandfather and great grandmother Piper were married in 1833 by the same Justice. So it was that this old log schoolhouse witnessed some of the most important events of our ancestors’ lives.

From the schoolhouse we went a quarter of a mile north and turned at right angles east, where within a half a mile we struck a right angled bend in the road to the north. Just to the right of this bend was an old house built by Sewell Goodridge and his wife, over a hundred years ago. Sewell Goodridge’s wife Lydia was a sister of Asa Norton, and hence, your grandmother’s great aunt. It was in and around this house that many of the happiest hours of your grandmother’s life were spent. The house is now occupied by an old bachelor, and as was to be expected, was in disorder and decay. The building itself is run down and uncared for, and the interior was dreary indeed. But as we entered the north front door, on the opposite wall we saw, in a niche in the wall built for the purpose at the time the house was built, a large cuckoo clock. There, for over one hundred years, this old cuckoo clock has stood, six feet or more high and a foot or more wide, running by weights over pulleys, and still running correctly. But the cuckoo is dead. This clock was a familiar and interesting sight to your grandmother.

To the left of this was the old china closet in which Lydia Goodridge kept many valuable dishes, about which I have often heard your grandmother speak. In the next room, the parlor, was another old clock that is thought to be nearly a hundred years old, standing on the mantle, two or three feet high and a foot or more wide. There were two fireplaces back-to-back in the wall between the two rooms. In the southwest corner of the parlor was another large cabinet, empty now but presumably in those early days containing valuable clothing, dishes, and the like.

Having heard so much about priceless articles and papers found in old buildings such as this, we ventured up into the attic. But the attic was nearly vacant; the floor seemed to be covered an inch thick with dust and old scraps of paper, and there was nothing to indicate any hidden treasures. We left with the thought that poor Aunt Lydia, the aristocrat of the Norton family, would have turned in her grave if she could have known of the condition of her beloved home.

It was in this old house that Andrew Jackson Norton spent his youth. His father, Benjamin Norton, was Asa’s older brother. Benjamin’s wife died in 1819 and he married again in 1823 when Andrew Jackson was five years old. In the meantime Benjamin’s other children were scattered. At the time of his wife’s death, five children were living, four boys and one girl, and seven were dead. Three boys died in accidents—one a knife entered his brain, one drowned, and one was scalded to death. Andrew Jackson went to live with his Aunt Lydia Goodridge who had no children of her own. He lived with this aunt and uncle until of age; he married while living there and afterwards built a house of his own not far away. He married Miss Mary Jeffers on December 19, 1839.

Going on, then, beyond the bend in the road to the north about one hundred rods, we struck the Hagan house where Sally Tobey Hagan and her husband live. Sally Tobey Hagan is the granddaughter of Avery Tobey and his wife, Sally Norton. Sally Norton was Asa Norton’s younger sister, nineteen years younger than he and a year or two younger than their sister, Lydia Goodridge.

The old house built by Avery and Sally Tobey was still standing, but had been moved to the back end of the lot and was a wreck, all ready to fall to pieces. We did not visit the old Tobey graveyard that is on the Tobey farm, as our time was limited, but I shall certainly one of these days visit this cemetery where good old Aunt Lydia and Aunt Sally and other kindred are buried.

Away off to the northeast from this Tobey house we could see the houses that mark the places where Andrew Jackson Norton had built his log cabin when first married, and nearer, where his Uncle Thoda Norton lived, and where his cousin Louis D. Norton lived.

From this old Norton headquarters we drove down the east-west road to the north-south Russellville road and passed the old Asa Piper farm on the east and down to Russellville, about six miles away. Here we stopped at the store of D.T. Beckes. He is the husband of Edna, daughter of Horace B. Norton. Mr. Beckes was not at the store, but we were directed to the Beckes house, which was built by Horace B. Norton and is the finest house in Russellville. Here we met Edna and she showed us the deed of Andrew Jackson, President of the United States, to William Noble Norton, Edna’s grandfather, dated September 1, 1834, conveying the west half of the northeast quarter of Section nineteen, Township five, north of range ten west, Palestine, containing eighty acres. This is the deed of the old farm entered by Asa Norton in 1819.

From Russellville we drove some ten miles southeast to the Wabash River and down the river several miles to the Vincennes bridge where we crossed over to Vincennes, Indiana, and spent the night. In Vincennes the following morning, we passed the location of the old Sackville Fort, later known as Fort Vincennes, and from there we went south to Evansville, Indiana, on the Ohio River. From here we went west some twenty-five miles to Mt. Vernon, Posey County, Indiana.

Then we were in the neighborhood of your grandfather Andrews’ early home. It was in Mt. Vernon that he attended school and his father’s farm was three miles straight north. I went over to the court house and obtained copies of the following records:

“John Quincy Adams, President of the United States of America. To all to whom these presents shall come, greeting.
“Know ye that, John Andrews of New York, having deposited in the general land office a certificate of the Register of the land office at Vincennes in Indiana,
“Whereby, it appears that full payment has been made for the West one-half of the NorthWest quarter of Section Twenty-Nine in Township Six of range Thirteen west, containing eighty acres of land directed to be sold at Vincennes by the act of Congress entitled An Act providing for the sale of the lands of the United States in the Territory Northwest of the Ohio, and above the mouth of the Kentucky River, unto the said John Andrews and his heirs the half of the quarter lot or section of land above described.
“To have and to hold the said half of the quarter lot or section of land, with the appurtenances, unto the said John Andrews, his heirs and assigns forever.
“In testimony whereof, I have caused these letters to be made Patent, and the seal of the general land office to be hereunto affixed. Given under my hand at the City of Washington, the Seventh day of February in the year of our Lord, one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America, the fifty-second.
“By the President (John Quincy Adams)”
(SEAL)

“James Monroe to Anson S. Andrews of New York.
“SW ¼, Sec. 20, Twsp. 6, Range 13 W, 160 Acres.
“James Monroe, President of the United States of America.
“To all to whom these presents shall come, greeting.
“Know ye that, Anson S. Andrews of New York, having deposited in the general land office a certificate of the Register of the land office at Vincennes in Indiana,
“Whereby it appears that full payment has been made for the SouthWest quarter of Section Twenty in Township Six, South of Range Thirteen West, containing one hundred and sixty acres of the land directed to be sold at Vincennes by the act of Congress entitled An Act providing for the sale of the lands of the United States, in the Territory Northwest of the Ohio, and above the mouth of the Kentucky River, unto the said Anson S. Andrews and his heirs the quarter lot or section of land above described.
“To have and to hold the said quarter lot or section of land with the appurtenances, unto the said Anson S. Andrews, his heirs and assigns forever.
“In testimony whereof, I have caused these letters to be made Patent, and the seal of the general land office to be hereunto affixed. Given under my hand at the City of Washington, the twenty-fifth day of August in the year of our Lord, one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-three, and of the Independence of the United States of America, the forty-eighth.
“By the President (James Monroe)”
(SEAL)

“James Monroe to Anson S. Andrews of New York City.
“E ½, SE ¼, Sec. 19, Twsp. 6, Range 13 W, 80 acres.
“James Monroe, President of the United States of America.
“To all to whom these presents shall come, greeting.
“Know ye that, Anson S. Andrews of New York, having deposited in the general land office a certificate of the Register of the land office at Vincennes in Indiana,
“Whereby it appears that full payment has been made for the East one-half of the SouthEast quarter of Section Nineteen in Township six, Range 13 West, containing eighty acres of the land directed to be sold at Vincennes by the act of Congress entitled An Act providing for the sale of the lands of the United States, in the Territory Northwest of the Ohio, and above the mouth of the Kentucky River, unto the said Anson S. Andrews the quarter lot or section of land above described. “To have and to hold the said quarter lot or section of land with the appurtenances, unto the said Anson S. Andrews, his heirs and assigns forever.
“In testimony whereof, I have caused these letters to be made Patent, and the seal of the general land office to be hereunto affixed. Given under my hand at the City of Washington, the twenty-Fifth day of July in the year of our Lord, one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-three, and of the Independence of the United States of America, the forty-eighth. “By the President (James Monroe)”
(SEAL)


W I L L
Recorded in Book T of Deeds
page 723
“Anson S. Andrews of Black Township in the County of Posey and State of Indiana, do ordain and appoint this my last will and testament in manner and form following.
“That is to say, on this first day of March in the year of our Lord One Thousand, Eight Hundred and Fifty-two,
“To which I have set my hand and affixed my seal binding my heirs and assigns forever.
“I give a bequeath my farm on which I am now residing together with all the rents, profits and benefits arising therefrom to my beloved wife, Elizabeth Andrews.
“To have, hold and enjoy the same for and during the term of her natural life. I also give and bequeath to her, my said wife, all my farm stock, to wit: my neat cattle, horses, sheep and hogs, farming tools and utensils, farm produce, household goods and furniture, and one thousand ($1000) dollars out of my personal estate and effects; my books and other printed matter to be divided equally share and share alike between my wife and children.
“At the death of my beloved wife, I give and bequeath my said farm together with all the rents and profits thereof to my two dear sons, John and Seth, to be equally divided between them share and share alike, or held jointly as they may elect; to be held and possessed by them and their heirs and assigns forever.
“I give and bequeath to my dear daughter Harriet the piece of land I lately bought of John Vanway and described in the deed from him and his wife to me, to be held and possessed by her and her heirs and assigns forever. I also give and bequeath to her Two Thousand, One Hundred Dollars ($2100) out of my personal estate, this she is to receive in such kind or kinds of property that she shall sustain no loss or damage whatever.
“After my debts and all just demands against my estate are settled and paid, I will and direct that the balance and remainder thereof be equally divided share and share alike between my said children. And I do hereby appoint my said wife Elizabeth my executrix and my friends, Anson S. Osborne and Ebenezer Ellis, my executors of this my last will and testament. And I do hereby direct that fifty ($50) dollars be paid to each of my executors out of my estate as a compensation for their services.
“In witness whereof I have hereunto subscribed my name and affixed my seal the day and date first above written.
“(Anson S. Andrews) (SEAL)
“Signed, sealed, published and delivered by the said Anson S. Andrews as and for his last will and testament, in the presence of us who at the request of said Anson S. Andrews and in the presence of each other have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses.
“(John W. Bishop)
“(Otis Hinkley) (SEAL)
“Recorded November 4, 1854”

[There followed another table of deeds recorded in Mt. Vernon, Indiana, in Black Township. I will be happy to send the table to anyone who asks.]

Of these parties, Anson S. Andrews is your great grandfather; John Andrews is his father, your great great grandfather. He never came out west but lived at Bethel, Connecticut. The Hinkley referred to Otis Hinkley, Wilmer’s great grandfather, who lived at New Harmony, Indiana, twelve miles north of the Andrews farm, and James Hinkley is his son who married Anson S. Andrews’ daughter Harriet. This is the first connection between Helen and Wilmer Hinkley. Anson Seeley Andrews is the great grandfather of both of them. Anson Seeley Osborne was a nephew of Anson Seeley Andrews and lived with him during much of his youth. Beverly Bradley Piper was your great grandfather who lived also in the Norton neighborhood in Crawford County. Elizabeth Andrews was Anson Andrews’ wife and your great grandmother. The et. al. referred to in the Elizabeth Andrews deed was your grandfather Andrews and his brother Seth and his sister Harriet Hinkley.

The search of records at Mt. Vernon was substantially complete but it would be desirable to obtain copies of more of the deeds. For instance, the deed of Elizabeth Andrews et. al., to Worthington Bois, and the deed of John Andrews et. al., to James Acuff. The former deed conveyed the old Anson S. Andrews farm, and the latter deed conveyed the land on which the old mill stood.

There should be a search made to determine the disposition of the land transferred to Anson S. Andrews by Honduras D. Johnson and John T. McKee. The Vanway farm was willed by Anson S. Andrews to his daughter, Harriet Hinkley.

From Mt. Vernon we drove north fifteen miles to New Harmony. The road ran through Farmersville where the Andrews farm was located. As we drove by, I was able to point out to your mother a large number of landmarks from descriptions given me by your grandfather. For instance, the location of the old farm and the farm house and the store and the mill and the schoolhouse and the Baptist church and the old graveyard and other places. But we did not stop.

We reached New Harmony in the evening and went to the house of Julia E. Dransfield, a daughter of Anson S. Osborne and, hence, second cousin of your grandfather Andrews. She lives in the old Otis Hinkley house where Wilmer’s great grandfather lived.

We stayed at New Harmony and vicinity for two days and had a very pleasant visit with Cousin Julia and her adopted daughter, Mary Donald, and Mary’s husband who is the dentist in New Harmony. I cannot here go into the many interesting features of New Harmony. Although having a population of less than one thousand, it is one of the most noted towns in the world from both a scientific and sociological point of view. I have several pamphlets relating to the various interesting features of this town. But that has nothing to do with our Ancestral Dominions. Suffice it to say that we were much pleased not only with the reception given us by our hosts and others, but also by the various buildings and collections and the like which we visited.

With our hosts, we drove down to Farmersville where for thirty-six years your great grandfather was the principal man of the neighborhood. He established the town of Farmersville, or what for a time was known as the “Corners,” by entering with the United States government a section of land surrounding the Corners, being where two main east/west and north/south roads crossed. Of this land, he entered for his own use 320 acres, and the rest was taken up by friends who settled there with him at about the same time.

On our way to Farmersville from New Harmony, we stopped at the old Moore’s Hill Cemetery, about a mile north of the old Andrews farm, on the same side of the road. Here your great grandfather was buried. After some searching, we found his lot in the northwest corner of the cemetery, in the north tier of lots and one tier next to the west. The stone slab was lying on the ground, and adjacent to it was a little stone. The slab bore the inscription, “Anson S. Andrews, died September 28, 1854, in the 69 year of his age.” Having heard that the slab had fallen, I had brought with me a spade, and I dug down and found the pedestal on which the slab had been originally mounted. This pedestal had sunk in the ground over a foot deep and the slab had been broken off flush with the upper surface of the pedestal. I cleaned the broken pieces out of the groove in the pedestal and restored the slab, then straightened out the little stone nearby that bore the inscription, “Ann, daughter of A.S. and E. Andrews, died July 17, 1832, age 2 yr, 11 ms, 8 dys.”
The Andrews grave markers in 2001. They have since been
set into flat concrete frames to preserve them from further decay.

As I stood at my grandfather’s grave that afternoon, I could picture in my mind’s eye the Andrews line, coming over from England in 1633 and slowly drifting westward—from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where Glenn now lives, to Connecticut; from Hartford to Farmington, then to Waterbury, then Danbury; and from there, Anson S. Andrews as a young man went out by himself west to New York state, and thence to Farmersville, Indiana, where his body now lies by the side of his infant daughter. But the line went on, west to southern Illinois, north to northern Illinois and Wisconsin, and with it went his wife who now lies in the old West Side Cemetery in Rockford, Illinois, and beside her lies their son John, your grandfather. And so it goes, from one generation to the next, ever onward, always seeking something better, and usually finding it, leaving many by the wayside in lonely graves.

From the cemetery we went south to the old Corners, and then a quarter of a mile west past the location of the old schoolhouse where your grandfather first went to school and where he first met your grandmother, to the location of the old Baptist church where your great grandfather Piper preached from 1850 to 1853 and where your grandmother attended church and Sunday school as a girl of ten to thirteen. I cannot say that your grandfather and great grandfather attended this church. Your great grandmother Andrews attended church about half a mile west of this on the same side of the east/west road in what was known as the Christian or Campbellite church. But your great grandfather was not a member of any church. Undoubtedly, he and the children more or less attended his wife’s church, and perhaps the Baptist church. But neither he nor his son John, your grandfather, nor his daughter Harriet, nor her husband James Hinkley, nor his father, were orthodox. Seth, the second son of A.S. Andrews, in time joined the church and was one of the staunch members until he died. The present church was built in 1896 on the foundation of the old church of a century ago.

Just across the road north from the church we drove into the lane to the Andrews farmyard and to where the old house had stood. Your grandfather had told me that the house and barns were all burned, he believed, as well as the store and the mill. However, I was delighted to find the old red brick barn still standing. This is a large barn, two stories and a basement, about 60 feet long and 30 feet wide, a magnificent monument to your great grandfather. A photograph of the rear of the barn is attached. The barn was built in 1844 of red bricks made from the clay of the old farm, the brick kiln being located near the barn. Your great grandfather made bricks at that time, which he sold to others, and he built this barn, and an addition to his house, and a sidewalk leading from the house towards the barn, and he lined a dug well with the bricks. The old brick foundation of the house and the sidewalk and the well still remain, but the addition itself has disappeared. Also, the old shop and other sheds and another large barn which were there in the early days have all disappeared, being replaced by other buildings.
Rear view, taken in October 1927, of red brick barn at Farmersville, Indiana,
built in 1844 for Anson Seeley Andrews with bricks made on his farm.
The barn is located about 200 feet west of where the old Andrews’ house is located.

The farm is now owned by Ensley Trafford and his wife. His wife is a great granddaughter of Elisha Phillips, who was one of the settlers there with your great grandfather and who took an eighty acre piece of the original section taken up by your great grandfather. In a talk with Mrs. Trafford, she suggested that I would be interested in calling on John Dave Ellis, who lived half a mile straight south, as he was one of the oldest settlers and would no doubt remember much of interest. We drove over to Mr. Ellis’s house and found him at home and had a very pleasant and interesting conversation with him. He is a typical old farmer of 87 years of age, old enough to be much interested in those early times. Upon meeting him, I asked if he remembered Anson Seeley Andrews. He said that he certainly did and he remembered John Andrews and Mirinda Piper and that John had married Mirinda. When I told him that they were my parents he was much interested and shook my hand warmly and went on to tell about the old times.

Among other things, he said that Anson Andrews was one of the finest men that was ever known in those parts, and he cited several instances of things your great grandfather had done to help establish and develop the neighborhood and to assist others in getting a start. One instance was that Mr. Andrews told a neighbor that he ought to buy a certain farm and the neighbor said that he knew it but didn’t have the money. Your great grandfather said that he had the money and would let his neighbor have it and would charge no interest and wouldn’t ask him for payment. I presume, however, that he knew the man well enough to know that the money would be repaid whether he asked for it or not. Also, I think that John Dave Ellis was inclined to exaggerate a little. Among other things, he stated that Anson Andrews was a very loud talker; that he was pretty deaf during the later years of his life and talked loud enough apparently to hear himself. John Dave’s house was nearly half a mile away from the Andrews house, and yet, John Dave said that he often heard Mr. Andrews talking to his men around the barn when John himself was at home. But in spite of any tendency to exaggerate, it was pleasant to hear these statements made by a neighbor who knew your great grandfather in his lifetime and undoubtedly had heard much about him from other neighbors since his death. John Dave was only fourteen years old when your great grandfather died, so much of his knowledge must have come from older friends and neighbors.

Another thing that John Dave said was that the old Baptist church, located about midway between his house and the old Andrews house, had been cut in two in 1896, when the new one was built, and all of it had been moved onto the Andrews farm; one half of it immediately across the road, and the other half moved onto the old Andrews house foundation and still stood there. This was very interesting news as this was another joining of the Piper and Andrews families; the old church from which your great grandfather Piper so often preached had been moved to the Andrews farm and a portion of it had replaced the old Andrews house.
Front view, taken in October 1927, of the house then standing at Farmersville,
Indiana, on the foundation of the house built by Anson Seeley Andrews about 1830.

In view of this, we drove back to the Andrews house and found that, as he had said, the front part of the old church was on the old foundation. This was clearly indicated by the building itself, the rear portion of the house showing evident signs of having been the front of an old church. The attached picture shows the front wall of the house, built in 1896. While we were there examining the house, the lady living in it called my attention to the old well immediately north of the house, and to the old brick foundation, and to the sidewalk, and we also gave some further consideration to the old brick barn.

This brick barn has a charm for me. It seems to be typical of your great grandfather Andrews. It is typical of the solid basis upon which he always seemed to build. In his younger days he broke away from a rather worn-out New England and went to New York state, and some years later, moved further west to establish himself in a new community. He was laying a foundation for the future; not drifting along as so many do, but planning years ahead; not shirking and taking the easy path, but seeking to mold nature to the benefit of himself, his family, his neighbors, and those who were to come. Many of the glimpses that I have obtained of him by my researches and by talks with his son and others who knew him in life lead me to believe that this was strongly typical of the man, a determination to live his life in a way that would be a benefit to himself and others, building a solid foundation for his life work and for each step in that work. He established a community for himself and for others. He developed a brick kiln and a store and a mill for himself and others, all much needed in that wild western country, and he laid a mental foundation for his children and for those of his neighbors. A school building was the first building that was built at the Corners; he and others sought to establish a seminary there too, which was finally located three miles away at Mt. Vernon. As John Dave Ellis said, he provided money not only for himself, but for others. I have his books showing thousands of dollars loaned out to others. In fact, he did substantially a banking business for the community, the basis for it all carved out of the soil.

A solid basis for life is typical, in general, of the Andrews line. I have gone back some three hundred years and have carefully studied the line and find no exceptions to this. All were solid, substantial, sane men and women. They all built for the future, not for the next world of which they knew nothing, but for this world, doing the best they could to get the most out of the only life of which they could know.

We then drove down to Mt. Vernon and called on two of the granddaughters of Anson Seeley Osborne. They were Rosamond and Esther Osborne, daughters of Lemuel T. Osborne. Esther, now Mrs. Lyman Strack, gave me the deed drawn by your great grandfather and signed by him and your great grandmother, the print of which is attached.

Deed handwritten by Anson S. Andrews, properly acknowledged by him and his wife.

“This indenture made the twentieth day of August in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and forty five between Anson S. Andrews and Elizabeth Andrews his wife of the township of Black in Posey County and State of Indiana of the first part and Anson S. Osborn of the same place of the second part witnesseth that the said parties of the first part for and in consideration of the sum of three hundred dollars to them duly paid have sold and by these presents do re—i.e., release and forever quit claim unto the said Anson S. Osborn all rights, title, interest, claim and demand whatever which we the releasers have or ought to have in or to one tract of land described and dessignated [sic] as the West half of the North West quarter of Section Number twenty nine of Township Number Six South and Range number thirteen west and lying in the county of Posey and State of Indiana aforesaid — To have and to hold the premises with all their appurtenances unto the said releaser his heirs and assigns forever so that neither we the said releasers nor our heirs nor any other person under us or them shall hereafter have any claim, right or title in or to the premises or any part thereof—but thereupon we and they are by these presents forever bared [sic] and secluded.
“In Witness whereof we have hereunto set our hands and seals the day and date above written
“Signed, Seald and delivered
“In presence of Anson S. Andrews (SEAL)
Elizabeth Andrews (SEAL)”

We also saw Lemuel T. Osborne, the father, for a few moments, and called on Matthew Nelson who lived a block away and who knew much of the early life of your ancestors. His opinion of your great grandfather was much like that of John Dave Ellis, and as he was born after your great grandfather’s death, this opinion was derived entirely from friends and neighbors, and particularly from his father. His father, Turner Nelson, was something of a politician and for many years was the County Recorder of Mt. Vernon. Also, he owned a large farm in the early days adjacent to Farmersville, and of this he sold some sixty acres to your great grandfather Piper, and was the nearest neighbor to Mr. Piper when he was there.

While in Mt. Vernon, we looked up the old seminary where your grandfather Andrews went to school. The building was built in 1841 and is still used for the same general purpose. It is a very substantial-looking brick building and must have been the pride of the town in those early days. Your grandfather started school in Mt. Vernon in an old one-room building “packed full with scholars,” but the new “Seminary” was then being built and as soon as it was finished, your grandfather entered it.

The next day we started towards home but stopped in Lawrenceville, the county seat of Lawrence County, Illinois, where I found records of deeds relating to various Norton relatives . . .

[If anyone wants the table of these deeds for Lawrence County, leave me a note and I will send them.]

From Lawrenceville we went again to Vincennes, Indiana. I looked for records of early deeds there but found only the following: “Grantor Asa Norton; Grantee Barrois Francois; Book DD; Page 327; Comments: Dated February 11, 1826. ¼ of lot 64 in Borough of Vincennes. $45. Sam'l Dillworth, recorder. Vige St.”

From Vincennes we drove to Paris, Illinois, and stayed all night again at the Cherry Croft house, and the next morning, Saturday, October 15, 1927, we arrived home.

Ernest John Andrews
Chicago, November 21, 1927