The Chariton Leader, Chariton, Iowa Thursday, October 3, 1907 'Papers on Early Lucas County Events, Read at the Old Settler's Reunion'                            -------------------------------                         ' Reminiscences of 1855 ' On the evening of March 24, 1855 we started from Pittsburg, Penn., for what was then called the far west. We Pennsylvanians in those days thought Iowa was almost out of the world and as I stood on the deck of the steamer, the "Gray Eagle" and watched through fast falling tears, the lights of my dear native city fade away in the distance, I felt as though I were going to the end of the world. The river was low and we did not arrive in Keokuk, Iowa, until the 6th of April. At Keokuk we embarked on a prairie schooner for Chariton. It was an early spring and the prairie grass was just high enough to wave in the wind, and I thought as I looked out over the rolling prairies with their waving billows of green, that it was well named Iowa, beautiful land, for it was, indeed beautiful. To one raised in a large city it was a grand sight beyond description. Little villages dotted the prairies at long intervals, and little log cabins were few and far between. However it was grand and beautiful then, not with the beauty it now boasts of; elegant farm dwellings, fine barns and fields of waving grain, meadows filled with fine horses, cattle and sheep, and orchards bending beneath their loads of crimson and golden fruit; but with the grand, yet simple beauty of nature which possesses a beauty all its own. Our trip from the river was uneventful, and we arrived at our destination, the home of our brother, J.C. BEST, four miles northeast of Chariton, on the evening of April 12th. Early the next morning, being anxious to see our new home, we walked across the prairie only a quarter of a mile, as our farms joined. In a few minutes we came to a lonely little cabin just in the edge of the timber. I had talked of it, thought of it, and being of a romantic turn of mind, I had dreamed of that cabin; but when I saw the reality my heart failed me and I could scarcely keep back the tears. It was a log house built of round longs, 16 by 18 feet, having a sod chimney two clapboard doors, a puncheon floor and no window. Determined to make the best of things we cleaned the little pen out, scrubbed the linn puncheons until they were as white as paper, and moved our stuff in. Our furniture consisted of a bedstead which our kind brother, J.C. BEST, made out of native Iowa poles, a table made from a store box we had brought our goods in from Pennsylvania, and three stools made of the ends of the linn puncheons. We bought two splint-bottomed chairs from an opulent neighbor by the name of WILLIS STEVENS who was moving farther west where they did not need such fine furniture. When we got our things all arranged in our little cabin we felt quite at home. The summer was ideal; you old settlers all know what beautiful summers we had a way back in the fifties. The sun shined brighter, the birds sang sweeter and the rain fell more gently then. We were all young and happy, and the future seemed like a bright and beautiful dream; alas, have we all realized the dream? Wild fruit was in abundance in those early days and of a splendid quality. Wild grapes, plums, cherries, and crab apples were all utilized to the best of our ability. Sometimes I got very lonely and longed for the dear ones at home and at such times the whip-poor-wills, which were very numerous, would annoy me very much. Our house, as I told you, was built of round logs and some of the logs ran out past the corner and we had never sawed them off. On moonlight nights the birds would sit on those logs, six or eight of them at a time, and sing their mournful "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will" until I would get desperate, jump out of bed, run out doors and throw the broom at them; but would hardly get to bed again until all of them would be back again, and I had to "listen to the whip-poor-will's song." Wild animals of all kinds were numerous. Prairie wolves were thick as hops, and would come in the evenings just at dark, sit in the hazel brush, which grew in a perfect thicket within twenty feet of our back door, and howl until it sounded as if there were fully a thousand of them. The first evening they came after we moved in, my husband had gone over to his brothers on an errand. I jumped into bed, covered my head and shivered with fright but the pioneer women got used to such things. Deer were plentiful too; they passed our house in droves of 12 or 15 at a time. Wild turkeys too were very numerous; there was a large flock of them in our timber, a dozen or more at first. My husband shot some of them and the neighbors some until they were all gone but one wary old hen. I guess she got lonesome, as she came into the yard and ate corn with our chickens when no one was around. We had a pile of corn fodder, with the corn on it, about 60 feet from the house, and on cold days that old hen came and ate corn. Every day I saw her, and finally concluded I'd catch her; while she had her head in the fodder rattling around she couldn't hear me, so taking off my shoes, I crept along on the ice in my stocking feet behind her and grabbed her by one foot; of course you all know what happened, though there were several seconds that I did not know. The first thing I did know, I was lying on my back on the ice, looking up at the murky sky, wondering where I was and how I got there. I soon realized what was the matter, and swearing vengeance on the old hen, I gathered myself up and went into the house to warm my feet and reflect on what would be the next move. In a few days the old turkey came back, and I took down the rifle which always hung on the wall loaded, ready for use, raised the window 3 or 4 inches, laid the gun on the sill, cocked it but I did not set the triggers, so of course it would not go off; (I had never had a gun in my hands in my life before). That evening when my husband came home I told him all about it and he showed me how to fire it off. The next day when the old hen came I fired out of the window and she sailed away up above the tree tops, but I knew I had hit for I could see the feathers flying, and suddenly she began to turn over and over, and fell to the ground. I ran down and carried her home, and no young Indian was ever prouder of his first scalp, than I was of that turkey. Speaking of these things brings back many pleasant memories of those days, fifty-two years ago; how we spent our time those first years in the wild west. Our Sabbath days especially, were lonely, as there were only a few of us near enough to visit; but we used to get, (not into our double seated rubber-tired carriage), but into our old ox wagon, and go from two to five miles to one of the neighbors, on Sabbath day. All in bounds would be there, and we had little prayer meetings led by ROBERT ROBE, HARVEY RODERICK, E.P. YOUNG and others; and I believe the humble prayers that went up from those little log cabins were heard and answered in the present prosperity and happiness of that old neighborhood. (*can't read first part of sentence) have gone to their long home, and the few of us who are left are feeble and old and gray, but the memory of those happy days and dear old friends will live in our hearts while life lasts -- E. C. BEST. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Copied by Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert November 11, 2004 iggy29@rnetinc.net http://www.rootsweb.com/~ialucas/Main.htm posted at this site with Nancee's permission * Looking at the 1900 census for Chariton, Lucas County, Iowa, I found this: Best, Joseph Dec. 1826, 73 years old, married 46 years, born in Pennsylvania Best, Elizabeth, wife, Jan. 1837, 62 years old, married 46 years, born in Penn. Best, James, son, Nov. 1868, 31 single, born in Iowa Best, Mamie E., dau. April 1879, 21 single, born in Iowa Best, Joseph son, Aug. 1881, born in Iowa. (Elizabeth may be E. C. Best, but I do not know this for a fact) There was also a Jacob C. Best, age 37, farmer, born in Pennsylvania, with wife by the name of Harriet, age 36, born in Pennsylvania (This was the 1860 census for Chariton, Lucas County, Iowa) This may be J. C. Best, but do not know for a fact. No connection for me, just wanted to share. Deborah

Hi There How would I get hold of Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert, would love to share this story with folks on the www.clymerpa.com website in the Genealogy section if I might. As Always Thank You Jerry Hetrick ----- Original Message ----- From: <Alohawahine75@aol.com> To: <PENNSYLVANIA-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, November 11, 2004 7:52 PM Subject: [PA] 'Reminiscences of 1855' ~ written by E. C. Best > > The Chariton Leader, Chariton, Iowa > Thursday, October 3, 1907 > > 'Papers on Early Lucas County Events, Read at the Old Settler's Reunion' > ------------------------------- > > ' Reminiscences of 1855 ' > > On the evening of March 24, 1855 we started from Pittsburg, Penn., for > what > was then called the far west. > > We Pennsylvanians in those days thought Iowa was almost out of the world > and > as I stood on the deck of the steamer, the "Gray Eagle" and watched > through > fast falling tears, the lights of my dear native city fade away in the > distance, I felt as though I were going to the end of the world. > > The river was low and we did not arrive in Keokuk, Iowa, until the 6th of > April. At Keokuk we embarked on a prairie schooner for Chariton. It was an > early spring and the prairie grass was just high enough to wave in the > wind, > and I thought as I looked out over the rolling prairies with their waving > billows of green, that it was well named Iowa, beautiful land, for it was, > indeed beautiful. To one raised in a large city it was a grand sight > beyond > description. > > Little villages dotted the prairies at long intervals, and little log > cabins > were few and far between. However it was grand and beautiful then, not > with > the beauty it now boasts of; elegant farm dwellings, fine barns and fields > of waving grain, meadows filled with fine horses, cattle and sheep, and > orchards bending beneath their loads of crimson and golden fruit; but with > the grand, yet simple beauty of nature which possesses a beauty all its > own. > > Our trip from the river was uneventful, and we arrived at our destination, > the home of our brother, J.C. BEST, four miles northeast of Chariton, on > the > evening of April 12th. > > Early the next morning, being anxious to see our new home, we walked > across > the prairie only a quarter of a mile, as our farms joined. In a few > minutes > we came to a lonely little cabin just in the edge of the timber. I had > talked of it, thought of it, and being of a romantic turn of mind, I had > dreamed of that cabin; but when I saw the reality my heart failed me and I > could scarcely keep back the tears. > > It was a log house built of round longs, 16 by 18 feet, having a sod > chimney > two clapboard doors, a puncheon floor and no window. > > Determined to make the best of things we cleaned the little pen out, > scrubbed the linn puncheons until they were as white as paper, and moved > our > stuff in. > > Our furniture consisted of a bedstead which our kind brother, J.C. BEST, > made out of native Iowa poles, a table made from a store box we had > brought > our goods in from Pennsylvania, and three stools made of the ends of the > linn puncheons. > > We bought two splint-bottomed chairs from an opulent neighbor by the name > of > WILLIS STEVENS who was moving farther west where they did not need such > fine > furniture. When we got our things all arranged in our little cabin we felt > quite at home. > > The summer was ideal; you old settlers all know what beautiful summers we > had a way back in the fifties. The sun shined brighter, the birds sang > sweeter and the rain fell more gently then. > > We were all young and happy, and the future seemed like a bright and > beautiful dream; alas, have we all realized the dream? > > Wild fruit was in abundance in those early days and of a splendid quality. > Wild grapes, plums, cherries, and crab apples were all utilized to the > best > of our ability. > > Sometimes I got very lonely and longed for the dear ones at home and at > such > times the whip-poor-wills, which were very numerous, would annoy me very > much. > > Our house, as I told you, was built of round logs and some of the logs ran > out past the corner and we had never sawed them off. On moonlight nights > the > birds would sit on those logs, six or eight of them at a time, and sing > their mournful "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will" until I would get > desperate, > jump out of bed, run out doors and throw the broom at them; but would > hardly > get to bed again until all of them would be back again, and I had to > "listen > to the whip-poor-will's song." > > Wild animals of all kinds were numerous. Prairie wolves were thick as > hops, > and would come in the evenings just at dark, sit in the hazel brush, which > grew in a perfect thicket within twenty feet of our back door, and howl > until it sounded as if there were fully a thousand of them. The first > evening they came after we moved in, my husband had gone over to his > brothers > on an errand. I jumped into bed, covered my head and shivered with fright > but the pioneer women got used to such things. > > Deer were plentiful too; they passed our house in droves of 12 or 15 at a > time. Wild turkeys too were very numerous; there was a large flock of them > in our timber, a dozen or more at first. My husband shot some of them and > the neighbors some until they were all gone but one wary old hen. I guess > she got lonesome, as she came into the yard and ate corn with our chickens > when no one was around. We had a pile of corn fodder, with the corn on it, > about 60 feet from the house, and on cold days that old hen came and ate > corn. Every day I saw her, and finally concluded I'd catch her; while she > had her head in the fodder rattling around she couldn't hear me, so taking > off my shoes, I crept along on the ice in my stocking feet behind her and > grabbed her by one foot; of course you all know what happened, though > there > were several seconds that I did not know. The first thing I did know, I > was > lying on my back on the ice, looking up at the murky sky, wondering where > I > was and how I got there. > > I soon realized what was the matter, and swearing vengeance on the old > hen, > I gathered myself up and went into the house to warm my feet and reflect > on > what would be the next move. In a few days the old turkey came back, and I > took down the rifle which always hung on the wall loaded, ready for use, > raised the window 3 or 4 inches, laid the gun on the sill, cocked it but I > did not set the triggers, so of course it would not go off; (I had never > had > a gun in my hands in my life before). > > That evening when my husband came home I told him all about it and he > showed > me how to fire it off. The next day when the old hen came I fired out of > the > window and she sailed away up above the tree tops, but I knew I had hit > for > I could see the feathers flying, and suddenly she began to turn over and > over, and fell to the ground. I ran down and carried her home, and no > young > Indian was ever prouder of his first scalp, than I was of that turkey. > > Speaking of these things brings back many pleasant memories of those days, > fifty-two years ago; how we spent our time those first years in the wild > west. Our Sabbath days especially, were lonely, as there were only a few > of > us near enough to visit; but we used to get, (not into our double seated > rubber-tired carriage), but into our old ox wagon, and go from two to five > miles to one of the neighbors, on Sabbath day. All in bounds would be > there, > and we had little prayer meetings led by ROBERT ROBE, HARVEY RODERICK, > E.P. > YOUNG and others; and I believe the humble prayers that went up from those > little log cabins were heard and answered in the present prosperity and > happiness of that old neighborhood. > > (*can't read first part of sentence) have gone to their long home, and the > few of us who are left are feeble and old and gray, but the memory of > those > happy days and dear old friends will live in our hearts while life lasts > > > -- E. C. BEST. > ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- > - > Copied by Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert > > November 11, 2004 > iggy29@rnetinc.net > http://www.rootsweb.com/~ialucas/Main.htm > posted at this site with Nancee's permission > > * Looking at the 1900 census for Chariton, Lucas County, Iowa, I found > this: > > Best, Joseph Dec. 1826, 73 years old, married 46 years, born in > Pennsylvania > Best, Elizabeth, wife, Jan. 1837, 62 years old, married 46 years, born in > Penn. > Best, James, son, Nov. 1868, 31 single, born in Iowa > Best, Mamie E., dau. April 1879, 21 single, born in Iowa > Best, Joseph son, Aug. 1881, born in Iowa. > (Elizabeth may be E. C. Best, but I do not know this for a fact) > > There was also a Jacob C. Best, age 37, farmer, born in Pennsylvania, with > wife by the name of Harriet, age 36, born in Pennsylvania (This was the > 1860 > census for Chariton, Lucas County, Iowa) This may be J. C. Best, but do > not know > for a fact. > > No connection for me, just wanted to share. > Deborah > > > ==== PENNSYLVANIA Mailing List ==== > If your Pennsylvania ancestor was German or Swiss, check out the > Pennsylvania Dutch Family History website at: > http://midatlantic.rootsweb.com/padutch/ > > ============================== > View and search Historical Newspapers. Read about your ancestors, find > marriage announcements and more. Learn more: > http://www.ancestry.com/s13969/rd.ashx >

Hi all, I've just added to the library at GenealogyBuff.com http://www.genealogybuff.com an index of funerals provided at Heintzelman's Funeral Home from 2000-2003. The funeral home has locations in Hellertown and Schnecksville, PA. This involves Lehigh and Northampton Counties. The direct link to the index is http://www.genealogybuff.com/pa/pa-northampton-funerals1.htm A search engine for the entire library is at http://www.genealogybuff.com/library.htm Hope this helps. Bill