Read by Miss Anna Fellows.
This old story that has been so often told and with so many variations
had its beginning for me nearly seventy years ago.
It was October 24, 1829 that I, a lad nine years old, reached what is
now Prairie Ronde township. We--my mother, brothers and sisters--were
about twenty days on the road not-with-standing we drove horses, three
on one wagon and two on another. My father, Col. Abiel Fellows, and two
oldest brothers had preceded us and had a home built ready to receive
us. The transition though slow from a roomy home of plenty to a
temporary house of one room, where six wayfarers had found shelter
previous to our arrival, naturally filled the mind of a small boy with
consternation, his heart with homesickness. Where was the school-room,
the clock-room with its glowing coal grate? Where was the square-room,
the bed-rooms, the cheerful kitchen? And where, Oh where, was the
buttery? Thoughts of the contents of the one left behind increased in
size the big lump in my throat. And the mountains, the hills, the cool
spring bubbling from the rocks, where were they? But an extenuating
fact, did we not have in this new land the Indian? He lurked in every
dark corner, was behind every tree and bush, I fancied. The strangers
our humble home already sheltered were William Duncan, two sons and one
daughter--William, Delamore, and Eliza Ann--, Lydia Wood and Samuel
Hackett.
My father met us at Monroe, and I recall that in Saline township he
purchased thirty bushels of wheat the entire output of a small stack,
and left it to be ground into flour. Later we had numerous calls for a
little wheat flour to make a wedding cake, which was always freely
given.
At Strongs Ridge, Ohio, where we staid one night we were told we would
see no more peaches after we left there--a strange condition of things I
thought--so we bought a goodly supply and saved the stones and on
reaching Prairie Ronde planted them in Mr. Guilford's garden, the first
garden cultivated by a white man on the prairie. Mr. Guilford had apple
trees growing from the seed in this garden. The peach trees grew and
thrived and were transplanted to many claims in the county.
The south-west part of Kalamazoo county was first settled and John Bair,
brother to William Bair, of Vicksburg, drove the first stake, or rather
blazed the first tree near Harrison's lake June, 1828.
It was in Prairie Ronde that the first school district in the county was
organized, and the first school taught in the winter of '30 and '31 by
Thomas W. Merrill, founder of what is now Kalamazoo college. Mr.
Merrill, my first teacher in Michigan, was followed by Stephen Vickery,
and Mr. Vickery by Richard Huyck. The school house was built of split
logs and was 20 by 26 feet. It stood near the home of Judson Edmunds,
recently sold to Joseph Davis.
The first post-office in the county was in Prairie Ronde, and my father
was post-master, receiving his commission from General Jackson. The
first frame building in the county, a small barn, was built by Delamore
Duncan in 1830. The first grist-mill was built in 1830 by John Vickers
on Rocky Creek. Corn only was ground in this primitive mill of small
dimensions. In the fall of the same year Mr. Vickers sold the mill to
Col. Fellows, who built during the winter the first saw-mill in the
county, near where William Maile now lives. In this mill was sawed the
lumber to build the first store at Bronson, now Kalamazoo. One other
claim I must enter. Prairie Ronde furnished for Cooper the character of
"Bee-Hunter" in his novel, "Oak Openings." One Towner Savage disputes
the honor with Mr. Harrison. Mr. Beadle, of dime novel fame, told me he
helped Cooper lay the plot of the story, and that Mr. Towner Savage was
the original "Ben Boden."
One event that occurred during the Black Hawk war excitement took great
prominence in my boyish mind, because to me it demonstrated the
fearlessness and bravery of my father. It was in the spring of 1832, and
Col. Lyman Daniels, whose regiment had been ordered to the front, had
important papers and money he wished taken to Detroit. It was thought to
be a perilous journey at that time. I distinctly remember Mr. Daniels
asking Col. Fellows if he would carry them, saying he had been unable to
find a man who dared undertake it. My father, then a man nearly 70 years
of age, said he would take them, and the papers and money were
transferred to his saddle bags and the trip made in six days. In 1830 he
had visited Detroit and purchased apple trees, and some of them are
still standing, and promise to bloom in a few weeks in all their
pristine glory. While in Detroit he enjoyed the hospitality of Gen.
Cases. The hero of the war of 1812 and the whilom boy soldier of the
revolution were both members of the ancient order of Masons.
Of the real privations and sufferings of pioneer life that many
experienced, I know nothing. With horses the journey to Detroit for
supplies was not such an impossible undertaking as it would seem to-day.
But inconveniences were abundant. The post-office was a basket and the
basket was kept under the bed. There was a bushel and a half of the
first mail Col. Fellows, brought from White Pigeon, and for each letter
the post-master paid 25 cents. But I suppose the worth of the news from
home and from "the girl I left behind me," could not be computed in
dollars and cents. It seems but yesterday that a citizen of Schoolcraft
would walk in and say, "Is there airry letter here for airry one of the
Bonds?" The manner of sending money by mail at that time differed
somewhat from the present check, draft and order system. A fifty or one
hundred dollar bill would be cut in two and one-half sent at a time.
That necessity is truly the mother of invention was often demonstrated
in pioneer days. I recall a novel arrangement for grinding or pounding
corn, constructed by Delamore Duncan. A large stump near the house was
hollowed out at the top and a spring-board set in place projecting over
the top of the house and a pestle at the end completed the mill or stump
mortar. With this the meal for bread for the family was prepared.
The Indian burying ground in the north-west part of the township had
great interest for the new-comers. I remember visiting it when there
were three "cribs" with their occupants, still standing.
My knowledge of farming when I came to Michigan was necessarily limited.
But the season following our arrival I was introduced to a pair of oxen
and a harrow. With my ball in my pocket I started out to prepare a few
acres for the sowing of wheat. But no wheat was sown in that field that
season. The oxen were slow and my ball required so much attention that
by the time I finished harrowing the volunteer wheat had made such a
growth sowing was unnecessary. The yield from the field was forty
bushels per acre.
One memorable night November 13, 1833, our household was awakened by Dr.
Nathan Thomas who was on a professional visit to the neighborhood and we
all left our beds and went out to witness the great meteoric shower
never to be forgotten.
The meat supply in the neighborhood sometimes ran low, and thereby hangs
a tale. One Harry Smith, came to our home one day to borrow a horse and
wagon to drive to Mr. Bishop's, who lived on the north-west side of the
prairie. Mr. Smith had a large family, and they were out of meat, and he
had heard Mr. Bishop had some to spare. But on reaching there he was
told they had no more than would be needed for the family. Mr. Smith,
rather crest-fallen, started to return home, but on second thought went
back to the house and told Mr. Bishop if he would lend him a bone he
would take it home and season some beans and return it. This so greatly
pleased Mr. Bishop that he told Mr. Smith he would divide his meat with
him, and one meat-hungry family rejoiced that day.
Improved roads, the railway, the telegraph, the telephone, and other
Edisonian inventions, have shortened distances since those early days.
And yet I fancy were I to walk from the site of the Old Branch in
Kalamazoo, to Prairie Ronde, the distance would seem much greater than
it did sixty years ago, when I sometimes walked home from school
Saturday afternoon.
Although their pioneer experiences retain great interest for those who
participated in them, they are not supposed to hold the same interest
for these sons and daughters of younger generations that I see before
me. Many of you will enter the next century in the prime of life and
help solve problems we wot not of. But those who were born in the early
morning of the present century and are still living should be content,
for in the words of John S. Ingalls, greater progress has been made
during their life time than in sixty centuries previous.
NOTE.--Mrs. Mary Frasier and Lyman Guilford, of Schoolcraft, William
Bair, of Vicksburg, and O. H. Fellows, of Prairie Ronde, are all who are
living who came to Kalamazoo county in 1829.