Hello All, Ages ago I abstracted the info below and thought I'd share again. You never know what you find in those old computer files. Julia Krutilla ´°*ø,¸¸,ø*°´°*ø,¸¸,ø*°´°*ø,¸¸,ø*°´°*ø,¸¸,ø*°´°*ø,¸¸,ø*°´°*ø URLs: Julia A. Krutilla's Ancestor Page: http://krutillaja.home.comcast.net/ ---------- INTERESTING RECOLLECTIONS OF NINETY YEARS AGO (abstracted from the History of Belmont & Jefferson Cos., OH) Hearing that Mrs. Johnson, nee Mary Bickerstaff, was on a visit to Steubenville, we were fortunate enough to secure a series of interviews with the venerable old lady, who has seen nearly ninety summers up to this date. We found her seated very happily rocking on each occasion of our visit, and were always welcomed to a seat beside her, as the old lady remarked "My sight and hearing are not what they were fifty years ago." Acquainting her with our mission, she smiled a good-natured assent, and taking us by the arm said: "That's right; I'd like well for the world to know how we used to get along when I was a girl. Well, I was born in Pennsylvania, Nov. 14th, 1790, and when eight years old, came here to Steubenville with my parents, who secured a number of acres of land from Bazaleel Wells, located a mile and a half west of Steubenville. It was on the hill where the cemetery fence now crosses. Our wagons were hauled up by oxen, and I will tell you WHAT OUR LOG CABIN WAS LIKE. Father lost no time in piling together the logs, and with an admixture of mud and wood ashes we soon plastered the rude cot [cottage], which had a roof and doors constructed of clapboards. We improvised wooden hinges, and our door latches consisted of strings cut out of groundhog skins that we tanned ourselves. The floors were laid of split logs, the flat side up, and the same were used for joists; while at night, to keep out the wild animals for there were heaps around we used to pile a big 'back-log' against the door, which, together with a few kindlings formed our fuel for the day, burnt in a large open fire-place, or vacant space left; where it would burn safely. I tell you there was a heap of comfort in it as compared with your damask curtained houses of today. Without questioning the old lady's opinion, we suggested what was THE LOT OF LADIES IN THOSE DAYS. "Don't say 'ladies', my friend," said Mrs. J.; "we had no ladies in those days we sought only to be women, and were proud of being called WOMEN. And, mind you, we never dreamed of disfiguring our bodies and deforming ourselves with 'Grecian bends', 'Roman falls', 'pull-backs', and long trains dragging in the mud. Finery was unknown to us we carded, spun, and wore our clothing. There was no running to the store for everything you wanted. Our shawls consisted of good, home-made flannel, sometimes colored to our fancy; and our heads knew nothing better than hand-made sun bonnets for summer and warm wool hoods in winter. Our feet were covered with our own make of moccasins or shoe-packs, for which we tanned the leather ourselves. I tell you they were a heap better than your high-heeled, tight fitting fancy boots of to-day. We had no corns in those days, except such as were grown on the ear in the field. But I must tell you about our OLD TIME HUSKING MEETINGS. Well, the men and women, old and young, would meet on each farm in the season at sundown, and about fifty or sixty of them would go to work in real earnest. Two sides were chosen, and a rail was laid across where the middle of the pile of corn would fall, and each man would place a man at the ends of the rail, when they were through husking, the side that had husked the most would have their man picked up and carried around, amid loud hurrahs, as the captain. Then, while the men were penning up the husks in the field, the women would go to the house, cook turkeys, chicken, pumpkin pies, &c., and we'd have a rousing good supper. In those times we drank out of gourds and had only pewter plates and dishes no crockery or glass. After supper, though it was late, we returned to the field and there enjoyed a good hearty game; we would all take hold hands, with a young man set in the middle of the ring, and we ran round singing: "Sister Phoebe, how merry were we The night we sat under the juniper-tree? Take this hat on your head, 'twill keep you warm; Take a sweet kiss, 'twill do you no harm. " And in this way would frisk about like kittens till all the young men had a moonlight kiss, and we would finish up by singing: "Mamma, who's been here since I've been gone? A pretty young girl with a josey on." A "josey" signifying a jacket. They were rare good times, I tell you; lots of good, solid harmless fun. No rye drinking, no beer or hard cider, though we did sometimes take a little "mafigelum," consisting of sugar, water and hops, which I'll tell you how to mix directly." We asked, by way of a change, "from the ridiculous to the sublime," if she would tell us HOW THEY INDULGED SPIRITUAL CONSOLATION. "Oh! We were not short of that," said the old lady, "but it was good solid religion in those days; not meetings gotten up to show off our clothes and to gossip. We had what we called 'riding preachers' come round; a minister on horseback, who held a service at one of our houses every other week, and every second week we had prayer meetings. Ah! And we put our whole souls into the worship. We did not quarrel and wrangle over all sorts of notions and isms, but united heart and voice in the common plain worship of God. And that reminds me of my dear old father. But, remember, he was no particular exception to the general rule in those days. He never took food, even to the extent of a piece without asking Divine blessing, that he might feel thankful for it. Ah! I think I see his dear white head, and his long, white beard, as he joined regularly in family prayer, and never in my life did I ever know him to retire without committing us all to God's tender care and mercy. My friend, those were days when the heart was lifted to God in earnestness, and we all felt prayer was our common duty to our Maker, but nowadays people seem to fancy they are condescending to approach God, and worse luck, there are not over many young folks that favor Him that much. I tell you, in religion things have mightily changed." We asked her for information on THE FIRST PUBLIC PREACHING IN STEUBENVILLE. When the old lady said that she never remembered preaching here "until 1799 or 1800, when one Lorenzo Dow visited this (then) scattered little hamlet, on foot, for he would not ride from place to place, on his mission for the Lord. A report had gained circulation that a great divine was coming, whom some were not slow to claim a second Christ, which led to 200 or 300 persons gathering here under a large tree that then stood at the end of the market square. Beneath this tree was a bench upon which butchers cut up their meat, and there was also an 'upping block.' When Dow arrived he looked exceedingly seedy and worn out by travel, so much so that he somewhat staggered which led our informant's mother to inquire of her good husband if he did not think the man drunk. The venerable old man simply replied, "Thee'll see directly." The Zealous ambassador of Christ mounted the "upping block" and, Mrs. Johnson states, addressed the people from the following words, which have never since ceased to ring in her ears: "Sent by my Lord, on you I call The invitation is to all; Come all the world come sinner, thou; All things in Christ are ready now." The sermon was one of unsurpassed eloquence and impressiveness, and the delighted audience voluntarily took up a hat collection, handing the receipts to the preacher, who though in dilapidated habiliments himself, sought out the most humbly attired man in the audience, and handing it to him bade him God speed in its use. Mr. and Mrs. Bickerstaff, parents of our informant, entreated Mr. Dow to visit their house and eat and rest with them, but he declined in the words, "I have not the time, my Lord's work must be done and I must go." We next asked for A FEW OLD TIME RECIPES. "Just so," the old lady observed, "I said I would tell you how we made 'Mafigelum.' Well, we boiled down forty to fifty gallons of sugar water to half its original quantity. Then boiled down a quarter of a pound of hops and added. Into this we poured a bowl of yeast, closed it up and let it work itself clear; and you'd better believe it was good." We then inquired as to their method of home tanning. "Why," said she, "we took a deer skin and strewed green wood ashes on it, with a little moisture, and let it stand until the hair came off. Then we would put it on a shave horse, and with the back of a knife scraped it clean. After this we stretched it well on a board and rubbed the anima1's brains into it thoroughly, until the skin presented a smooth, glossy surface, and then we dried it and it was tanned. One deer skin would make two pair of moccasins, and afford the "wangs" or strings, to tie them. Ground hogs were also very plenty, and fine ones, too. We used to take and soak their skins for a day in hot water and green wood ashes, and when all the hair had come off we boiled white oak bark for three or four hours, with which we rubbed the skins till they became dry. A good ground hog's skin would make two pair of' 'shoe-packs,' and I tell you, we used to feel rare and proud when the men brought home a deer skin with only one shot hole in it." And how did you get on, in the absence of coal oil, for lights? "Oh! Good, we had lots of nice home-made dips. But you know we used to believe in the good old saying, 'early to bed and early to rise,' so we really did not want so much artificial light as they do now-a-days. We had plenty of good lard oil, tallow, and bears' greese, while good candles we often made out of bees wax mainly. You must know wild bees were plenty in the woods those days, we often took gallons and gallons of honey and any amount of wax out of one hollow tree. And let me say right here, bears, wolves, foxes, coons, polecats, groundhogs, and wild turkeys were then as common as cats and dogs now. I often have seen bears from 300 to 500 pounds weight. But let me tell you about the LOVELY PICTURES THAT HUNG ROUND OUR HUTS. Pictures! we remarked why, had you pictures? "Yes, indeed," said the old lady, as she smiled somewhat wickedly. "And I tell you we had just the nicest kind of pictures. Everybody liked them, and when we tired of admiring them, we eat them. They consisted of fine dried turkies, jerk, side meats, hams, pumpkins and other good things hanging as thick as onions, all round the house what finer pictures could we have desired?" Conceding the philosophy in her opinions, we asked HOW THEY MANAGED WITHOUT DOCTORS? "Doctors!" exclaimed Mrs. J., "why a heap better than with them. We wanted none of them. What for?" she asked and then continued, " you would be a heap better off if you followed our old style, in that respect today. For a spring of the year medicine we used sassafras and spicewood. To prevent sleepless nights, the best thing in the world is a catnip blossom poultice placed on the back of the neck. Hops, bread, horseradish, and flax seed make fine poultices. To produce a sweat we used penny-royal tea. For vomiting I mean to prevent it and for sick stomach the finest thing in the world is simply to scrape a little horseradish and mix in cold water, and take a drink. For light head from fever take a poke root, as you would a potato, bathe your foot and place it to the sole as a poultice, and relief is yours in half an hour. Tar water cured most ordinary coughs, and for consumption and gravel we always found spikenard had no equal; that herb is one of the most valuable for many things. To stop bleeding produced by cuts, we used fresh soot from wood ashes, or puff balls, and applied pounded elm bark as a salve." The old lady then went on to deliver us a most convincing lecture on the merits of "butter-nut pills" as infallible for billiousness, or as a general corrective of the system, beside naming numerous other valuable home-made medicines. But the foregoing will be ample to convey an idea of "ye olden style of doctoring." HISTORICAL AND OTHERWISE. Our conversation subsequently took a general turn, from which we gleaned the following: "When we first came to Steubenville it was a perfect thicket, with only a few lots scattered here and there. With our family came six others, named Morris West, Gabe Holland, Nathan Casebier, John Johnson, Adam Modowell, and old Josiah Hitchcock. We found a ferryman named Hanlin at the river, who brought us across. I was subsequently married to Nehemiah, son of John Johnson, as already spoken of. There was hardly a soul to be found in what is the suburbs of Steubenville of today, except John Parker, who was a trapper on Wells' Run. Bazaleel Wells was quite a young man, and resided at that time with his father, Alexander Wells, where Mr. Browning now resides. Father paid Bazaleel Wells, who was a real good, noble man, only in corn, sugar, molasses and other produce for our farm, as also for two other pieces of land that he afterwards purchased and gave to my brothers. When we first came, father and others used to fetch salt in packs on horseback, over the mountains, until Hans Wilson opened a store, where we paid fifteen cents per quart for it, and it was at that store I first beheld calicos and cotton goods offered over the counter for sale. I did not go to school for three or four years after we came here, and then attended a little log hut school about a mile from our house, near the state road but only in the winter, as we all had to work hard through the summer, The schoolmaster who taught through the winter, was called Madcap, but a clever man from Baltimore, named McCulley, used to teach during the summer.