Allthough I have no conection to this person, I enjoyed it very much. It kind of make you feel closer to your ancestors!!!! Debi dkepford@worldnet.att.net ----- Original Message ----- From: TerryEngel <tengel@sourceharvest.com> To: <INJENNIN-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Friday, April 21, 2000 8:25 AM Subject: William Deputy Speech > Many, many thanks to Antoinette for typing this out: > > SPEECH > ~ ~ ~ of ~ ~ ~ > WILLIAM DEPUTY, > Of Paris, Indiana, > > Delivered at the Old Settlers' > Meeting held at Paris Cross- > ing, Ind., on the 24th day > of July, 1880, > > ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ > > Ladies and Gentlemen: > > I come on the stand this evening to try to give you a few > outlines of the > history of my life. But a few minutes were allowed me to do > this, therefore > I can but give you a condensed scrap, it must be here a little > and there a > little, but I will do the best I can. I will say to you that I > was born in > West Virginia, on the 5th day of September, 1807. In the fall > of 1810, my > father got in the notion to go to the Indiana Territory. He > built a flat > boat put his family, horses, farming and cooking utensils on > board, and left > to seek a home in the wilderness. We glided down the Ohio > river, landed at > Cooper's Ferry, five miles below Madison, on the 28th day of > November, > 1810. We moved out straightway, and stopped in the Coffee Creek > Valley; put > up a cabin, moved into it. And I would say our surroundings > were of the > lonesomest kind mixed with seen and unseen danger. I do not > know how any > one with less courage than a tiger could have stood it. My > parents were > religious people. They must have had their eye on the good > promises of the > good book. Tecumseh was now preparing for war. He had taken up > the > hatchet, and said he would never lay it down until death or > victory. You > may imagine the dangers for I haven't time to tell them to you. > When the > evening shades would come on we would go in the cabin and shut > the door. > The foxes began to bark, the wolves howl, the panthers mew and > the > whippoorwill cry from the dark forest. If there aint some > loneliness I miss > my guess. I pass. > > On the 10th day of June father died and left mother and six > little children > to combat with the world as well as we could. Now ladies, if > mother didn't > have a trial I don't know who did. She was way in the West, six > or seven > hundred miles from father or mother, brother or sister, in a > little cabin in > the wilderness, with six little children. Mother was a woman of > good > courage. Mother learned us to work to help make a living. We > made a good > living by work, not by wit. Mother kept her head up and her > trust in the > Lord. I have heard her sing "The more I pray the happier I am, > and I love > God glory hallelujah." I was raised in the bleak winds of > winter and under > a hot sun in summer, not in a school house. I was raised to > work when I was > little, I have thought if we are raised to work when little, > won't dread it > when big. I will say to you that I have had no opportunity of > an > education. You must look over my way of speaking. I pass to > notice what I > promised you in the outset. Now the Indians are all gone, > plenty of > neighbors; big farm cleared, so we had plenty and lived at home; > and by this > time I thought myself a man. I mounted a horse and went to > Jeffersonville > in March, 1827, and bought me piece of land. I came home, made > a deadening > on it, and by this time we had to go to plowing. We tilled a > crop, gathered > in our harvest; by this time it was toward the last of July. I > went out to > my land to clear off a spot. I came across a straight tree. I > cut it down, > cut off eighteen feet long, and squared it up nicely, and the > first fellow > that come along declared it was a house log, so the news flew > around the > neighborhood like fire in dry grass. So the first old woman > that come to > our house after that, wanted to plague me a little. She said to > me "you are > going to take a woman are you?" I said to her "that's my > notion". "Well, > said she, "such a one has got her cap set for you." That was > good news to > me that some lady had a cap set for me. This was the first > Monday of > August, '27. One month after I was twenty years old so the > first day of the > month, first day of the week, and early in the morning, I went > to the barn > and brought out a horse, put a new saddle on him, and started to > hunt me a > wife. You may know I was in earnest to start on Monday, and > early in the > morning. I told Mother I was going to the election in Jefferson > county, and > would be back that evening. I sped away, I stopped at a house > within eighty > rods of where the election was held. I went in. The gals > looked friendly, > the old folks too. There were three girls. I had my eye on one > of them. > We were well acquainted. The boys put my horse in the stall. I > told them > to lay my saddle on the grass; I would use it soon. I walked > with the boys > to the election, though little did I care for the election. > While we were > at the election a big rain came up. The old lady says to the > girls: "Which > of you claims him must bring in his saddle." So neither of them > moved a > peg. It began to rain, and the girl that I had my eye on went > out, picked > up my saddle, and come walking in with it. The other two girls > laughing at > her, seeing her so sober, seeing her so plagued, they laughed > the more. > When I came back these two girls had such a good joke. By the > way, I found > out this girl that I had my eye on claimed me. I thought then > surely the > Lord is on my side. I said to myself "just as sure as the > grapes grow on > the vine you are mine". I went home in a good humor, went out > to cut house > longs in earnest, and on the 5th day of Septemer, '27, I raised > my cabin on > the very day I was twenty years old, and on the 15th day of > November, 1827, > we were married, and the 26th day we moved home in the green > woods. I was > an able bodied young man. I could move almost anything that > come before > me. I took ax and mattock, and went out in the woods and slew > every tree, > big and little, that stood on five acres and thirty two square > rods of land, > that winter and spring. When Spring came, the sun could shine > down upon us > when night come, I took a seat on my shoe bench, made two pairs > of shoes a > week of nights, for which I got three days work, that made my > weeks nine > days long, instead of six. Now, I went to plowing. I soon > bought one of my > neighbors out. That added a little to my farm, and soon > another, that added > a little more, which made me 240 acres. I soon traded my 240 > acres for 140 > and got $650 to boot. I did not like the idea of coming down on > acres. I > moved to my 140. I kept on working. A neighbor had 50 acres he > wanted to > sell. I bought it. That made me 190. Another neighbor had 175 > acres to > sell. I bought it. That made me 365. Another had 120. I > bought it. > Another had 120. I bought it. Another had 80. I bought it, > paid for it > all. I had a score of horses and more than four score of > cattle. So it > took all my time and mind to manage my farm and stock. I was > very worldly > minded. I knew I had a soul to be saved or lost; but was not > ready to day; > I would put it off till next week. I was not ready then. I > wanted to > accomplish something else first. I said to myself: "God, thou > knowest my > foolishness, and my sins are not hid from Thee;" and I felt > myself as a leaf > before the blast. I felt that I might be cut off in an hour, > and my doom > fixed forever. I saw the promises in the Bible for the Godly > and the > ungodly. There was not a good promise for me unless I would > turn to the > Lord and repent of my sins. He says "The way of the ungodly > shall perish;" > "The ungodly are like the chaff that the wind driveth away;" > "Thou hast > rebuked the heathern. Thou hast destroyed the wicked. Thou > hast put out > their name forever and ever." "Upon the wicked He shall rain > snare, fire > and brimstone, and a horrible tempest, and this shall be the > portion of > their cup." These promises are enough to make a thinking man > tremble. I > now made up my mind to seek and serve God, and try to sow to the > Spirit, > that of the Spirit I might reap life everlasting. I now went > humbly to the > Lord, pleading with him to forgive all my sins, wean my > affections from the > world, and place them in Heaven. I felt that the Lord heard my > petitions, > and forgave my sins. I was then happy in the Lord. I felt then > if I lived > faithful to the end, standing at my post, bearing the cross, > that the Lord > would give me some good humble seat at his right hand in Heaven. > Then I > felt that I would be with Jesus, be with the good angels; eith > the happied, > sanctified and glorified, and range the new Jersulem, and sing > the > hallelujahs to God and the Lamb while eternity rolls. Friends, > serve God! > A word to the worldly minded. A goodly hope of living with > Jesus in Heaven > will give you more real enjoyment than every acre of land or > every dollar I > ever had. Consider this. I pass. > > I moved to Paris the 2nd day of September, 1852. I owned and > lived in the > big house that Henry Dixon now lives in. The railroad company > got hold of > me, and got six thousand dollars out of me. I never got > discouraged. I > held my head up and worked away. I believe it is man's duty to > work and do > all the good in this world he can. I would liked to have said > many other > things, scattered along through my little history, but time > wouldn't allow > it. Time passes and on the 14th day of April, 1861, I believe > it was that > Fort Sumpter was fired upon. The President calls for 75,000 > men, and, on > the 19th day of April, drums beat for volunteers, and one of my > sons > enlisted. I joined the home guards, uniformed and drilled. War > progressed, > and on the 22nd day of May, 1862, I got a dispatch that my son > was hopeless, > and on the morning of the 23rd I got on a train and started for > Washington > City, and on the 24th I was in Harper's Ferry, at the time of > Bank's > retreat, and on the same evening was in the Patent Office, in > Washington, > which was used for a hospita. My son was dead. The boys of his > company had > him embalmed and sent home. This was in the morning before I > got there in > the evening, and on the 25th night I was at the Relay House, > and the 26th > morning I saw a long train of cars loaded with men and muskets, > cannon and > ball, harnessed horses and wagons running with the speed of the > wind to > battle, and I heard one man swear he was bullet proof. I > thought then that > this world was wrecked. The cloud was getting darker and > darker, death and > destruction coming nearer and nearer. I thought men looked more > like tigers > and leopards than human beings, so eager to drench the earth in > human > blood. I hope I may never see the like again. This was on the > 26th morning > of May, 1862. We come to Harper's Ferry and the rebels had > possession of > the road at Martinsburg, so we went back to Washington. When I > was in the > Patent Office I looked out of the window over the Potomac > towards Fairfax > Court House. I was at the Navy Yard, three miles below > Washington City on > the Potomac. I looked in the whole of the Capitol. I saw > Washington's > Monument at Baltimore, stuck way up yonger, high enough to make > your head > swim if you were to look down. On the 28th of May, 1862, I was > on the top > of the Allegheny mountains. I came home. War still raged and > the home > guards were wanted to guard the prisoners at Indianapolis, and > at the call, > and at the age of 55, I started on the 26th day of July, 1863, > for Camp > Morton in the United States Service. The company wanted me and > my son to > cook for the whole company, and they would release us from duty, > and give us > fifty cents each once a month. We cooked one month and then > went on duty. > I have stood on my beat in the bull pen near the Comissary, as > dark a night > as I ever saw, with musket on my shoulder, and a navy revolver > at my side, > when the winds blew, and the thunders roared, and the vivid > lightnings > flashed, and the rain pouring in torrents. I thought then that > this world > was in a great commotion. On the first day of Septmeber, 1863, > the > prisoners were exchanged and sent to Dixie, and on the 2nd day > we came > home. War still raged. On the 11th day of July, 1863, Morgan's > army of > 5,000 marched through Paris, waving their caps and swearing they > could whip > the World. I thought every time I heard the like. Oh! World > how you are > wrecked. > > I would say now in the close that I claim to be the Oldest > Settler in > Jennings county. I have come through all the perils, privations > and > hardships of a wilderness life. I have helped to prepare the > way smooth for > those that may come after me. I have helped to maintain the > Government. I > feel that my days are almost numbered, my pilgrimage here below > wound up. I > soon will leave you, but before I leave I would give you a word > of advice. > A few words first. My wife kept house for me from the 20th day > of November, > 1827 until the 6th day of February, 1877. Then she laid down > the toils and > cares of the world, and I trust is at rest in Heaven. I am left > behind, but > I want to bear the cross till death shall set me free, then go > home, a crown > wear. And I would say to you now, this is the last time in all > probability > that I will ever meet you under this leafy grove, I will soon go > away. You > will see me no more, you will hear me no more. Now my advice is > to live > religious, that your names may be written in the Book of Life, > that you may > never see the second death, that when you are called henc, you > may go on > snowy wings to your immortal home, there to go in, to go out no > more, and be > forever with the Lord. > > Farewell, farewell. I now return my thanks for your attention. > > > > > >