OUR SECOND HOUSE AND FIRST APPLE TREES.
Father said he would get us some apple trees. He had heard there was a
small nursery below Dearbornville. One morning he and I started for the
village; from there, we went to Mr. McVay's, about two miles east, near
the Rouge.
Of him father bought thirteen apple trees, did them up in two bundles,
his large, mine small. We took them on our shoulders and started home,
through the woods, thus saving two miles travel. On our way we explored
woods we had never seen before.
We planted the apple trees on the west end of the little ridge. They are
now old trees. I passed them the other day and thought of the time we set
them. Now some of them look as if they were dying with old age. I counted
and found that some of them were gone. I thought there was no one but me,
who could tell how, or when, those trees were planted, as they are nearly
forty years old.
East of those trees father built his second house in 1836. He made the
body of this house of large whitewood logs, split oak shakes with which
to cover it, and dug a well east of the house. Into this well he put the
shell of a large buttonwood log; we called it a "gum." It was said that
water would not taste of buttonwood; we had very good water there.
Father borrowed Mr. Traverse's cart, loaded up our things and we were
glad to leave our Bark Covered house, clay door-yard and Mr. Pardee's
woods, to which we had lived so near, that we could see the sun only for
a short time in the afternoon.
In the house we were leaving we had some unwelcome visitors, an Indian,
John Williams, and a snake. One day, towards evening, mother was getting
supper, and as the floor boards were lain down loosely they would shake
as she walked across the floor. Some member of the family heard a
strange noise (something rattling) which seemed to come from a chest
that stood in the back part of the room on legs about six inches high.
Every time mother stepped on the board upon which he was coiled up, his
snakeship felt insulted and he would rattle to let them know that he was
there and felt indignant at being disturbed. Mother said they all tried
to find out what it was; they finally looked under the chest and there,
to their astonishment, they saw a large black rattlesnake all curled up
watching their movements and ready, with his poisonous fangs, to strike
any one that came within his reach. He was an interloper, a little too
bold. He had, however, gotten in the wrong place and was killed in the
room. He had, no doubt, crawled up through a hole in the floor at the
end of a board.
The children were very much alarmed and mother was frightened. She said
she thought it was a terrible place where poisonous reptiles would crawl
into the house. Near the house sometime after, brother John S. and sister
Sarah were out raking up some scattering hay. I suppose sister was out
for the sake of being out, or for her own amusement. While she was raking
she saw a large blue racer close by her with his head up nearly as high
as her own, looking at her and not seeming inclined to leave her. I never
heard of a blue racer hurting any one and this was the only one I ever
knew to make the attempt. Sister was greatly scared and hallooed and
screamed, as if struck with terror. Brother John S., then a little way
off ran to her as quickly as possible; while he was running the snake
circled around her but a few feet off and seemed determined to attack
her. Though brother was the younger of the two his courage was good. With
the handle of his pitchfork he struck the snake across the back, a little
below the head, and wounded him. Then he succeeded in sticking the tine
of the pitchfork through the snake's head; at that sister Sarah took
courage and tried with her rake to help brother in the combat. As she
held up the handle the snake wound himself around it so tightly that he
did not loosen his coils until he was dead. That snake measured between
six and seven feet in length.
We knew nothing of this species of reptile until we came to Michigan. I
have killed a great many of them, but have found that if one gets a rod
or two the start, it is impossible to catch him. I well recollect having
run after them across our clearing (where we first settled). They would
go like a streak of blue, ahead. I make this statement of the reptiles,
so that the people of Wayne County, or Michigan, who have no knowledge
of such things may know something about the vexatious and fearful
annoyances we had to contend with after we settled in Michigan.
We were all pleased when we got into the new house. We had a sand
door-yard, and lived near the centre of our place. East of this house, on
the little ridge, we raised our first patch of-water-melons, in Michigan.
Father said they raised good melons on Long Island, where it was sandy
soil, and he thought he could raise good ones there. He tried, and it
proved to be a success; the melons were excellent. When they were ripe
father borrowed the cart, picked a load of melons and (just before
sundown) started for Detroit. Mother and my little Michigan sister,
Abbie, went with us. I think it was the first time mother saw Detroit
after she left it, on the morning following her first arrival there. She
wished to do some trading, of course. Father and I walked. We took a
little hay to feed the oxen on the road. The next morning we reached
Detroit. The little market then stood near where the "Biddle House" now
stands, or between that and the river.
Father sold his melons to a Frenchman for one shilling apiece. The market
men said this was the first full load of melons ever on Detroit market;
at all events, I know it was the first load of melons ever drawn from the
town of Dearborn.
Mother's youngest sister lived in the city, and was at the store of Mr.
Cook, or "Cook & Burns," where we did some of our trading. Their store
was on Jefferson avenue. Mr. Cook was an eccentric man, and had his own
way of recommending his goods, and one which made much sport. Auntie
called for some calico. Mr. Cook took a piece off the shelf, threw it on
the counter, threw up both arms, put his hands higher than his head, then
picked it up again shook it and said: "There, who ever saw the like of
that in Michigan? Two shillings a yard! A yard wide, foot thick and the
colors as firm as the Allegheny Mountains!"
But an old colored woman came in who rather beat the clerk. She inquired
for cheap calico; the clerk threw down some and told her the price. She
said, "Oh that is too much! I want some cheap." Then the clerk threw down
some that looked old and faded. With a broad grin, showing her teeth and
the white of her eyes not a little, she said: "Oh, ho! my goot Lo'd dat
war made when Jope war paby!"
When father and mother had traded all they could afford, it was nearly
night, and we all got into the cart and started for home. We got upon the
Chicago road opposite where the Grand Trunk Junction now is, and stopped.
Mother thought she could not go any farther, and the oxen were tired.
Father went into a log house on the north side of the Chicago road and
asked them if they could keep us all night. They said they would, and we
turned in. They used us first-rate, and treated us with much respect.
Next morning after breakfast we went home.