Pioneer Life in Greenwood
“The Canisteo Times” - Canisteo, Steuben Co., NY
July 26, 1888 - Sept. 13, 1888
As related by Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek"
Missing text and name index provided by
Sharon Stephens Kiser
updated: 3/14/2000
Pioneer Life Name Index New!
The articles related by Dennis McGraw were put to print from
the News articles - Sharon Stephens Kiser has provided the
Forward and the editor's notes from the book. We are greatful
for the time that it took Sharon to type this information out
for us. Thanks Sharon!
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FOREWORD
The gathering of historical facts and compiling a logical
chain of events in the life span of small country community
such as ours, is a tedious and usually fruitless job, and
then again, there are the good times.
James Hope, Steuben County historian, while looking through
a book of old newspaper clippings in the Village Library of
Bath, N.Y. discovered an article about Greenwood. He made copies
of the article and mailed them to me. The article had been
written by a man named Dennis McGraw, for the Canisteo Times
and was reprinted by the Steuben Advocate in 1888.
The "Pioneer Life in Greenwood", was a large missing
part of Greenwood history.
It needed to be enjoyed by everyone.
It needed to be preserved for the future.
It needed to be printed!!!
So, thanks to a Town Board that provides good
equipment and a Historical Society that cares.--
We present, in his original words, in his spelling,
with his punctuation and with his feelings, "PIONEER
LIFE in GREENWOOD", by Dennis McGraw—1888 - Ed Mullen,
Town Historian
First Printing - March 1983 - Greenwood, N.Y. (100 copies)
Second Printing - December 1983 - Greenwood, N.Y. (100 copies)
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Issue date: July 26, 1888 (1)
It may seem strange to some that I now take
up my pen to write, this late day, of pioneer life
in Greenwood, as I think there are some incidents
that happened in those early days that will be of
interest to the rising generation as well as to the
few surviving friends, to have them published so
they can contrast the present state of things with
what transpired when this country was a wilderness.
I hope the reader of these sketches will make some
allowances and not expect too much from an old man
seventy-four years old, and as you may say, "brought
up in the woods, " where he could not enjoy the
blessings of the free schools of to-day, that you
all enjoy. So if my reminiscences is not couched in
the prosy and grammatical language of the historian,
you need not be disappointed. Things will be told
just as they happened and in my own way. Some things
have happened that I have always thought should be
made known and published to the world at large, in
order to give honor to whom honor is due, and had
it not been for this I should not have undertaken
this task. I shall also touch upon the habits and
customs of sixty years ago. With this explanation
I will proceed with my narrative.
Sixty-two years ago my father, William McGraw,
moved from the town of Dryden, Tompkins County, to
Greenwood, with a family of eight children. We left
Dryden in May, for what we then thought the far West.
My father was poor and we moved with an ox tea, and
drove one cow; our load was heavy and our progress
slow, but we were so delighted with the thought that
we should soon reach the "Promised land," that we
did mind going slow if we only got there, and in
time we arrived in the County of Steuben. We came
by way of Painted Post, and there saw the redman
pictured out on a post, and I shall never forget
what an impression the sight made on my young mind.
We came along up by what was then called the Chimney
Narrows, where the Mayburry gang of robbers used to
waylay peddlers and appropriate the booty to their
own use. The gang had been broken up and Duglass
(Douglas -JAC) hung for the murder of Ives, still
we were on the lookout. We finally arrived at William
Bennett's. Mr. Bennett had just moved into his new
brick tavern, and I can tell you there was a mighty
contrast between his castle and the buildings that
were to be seen all through this country. We staid
with Bennett over night and the next morning started
up Bennett's Creek. It being 14 miles to our
destination, we proceeded slowly along, as our team
was legweary and the road horrible. The road led
through a dense pine forest where a part of the
way the track was just wide enough to let the wagon
through and in some places it would sink in the mud
up to the hub of the wheels. We had not traveled more
than a mile or two when we were forced to hire another
yoke of oxen and "double up," making tow teams, and
then we had all we could do to get along. We finally
made seven miles up the creek that day and put up for
the night with a gentleman named Bachelder, and in
the morning continued our journey, arriving at Levi
Davis'. Mr. Davis came from Tompkins county a year
or two before and was keeping tavern and store in a
small log house, one story and a half high, and the
space he occupied with his goods was about six by
ten feet, doing a thriving business. Mr. Davis was a
energetic man, made things move about him and
accumulated a good property before he died.
All the pioneers were hardy, industrious and
healthy, and were always glad to see and welcome
new neighbors.
We had now about four miles to travel before
our journey ended, and in the evening arrived at
Richard Krusen's who then kept tavern and was land
agent. We stopped with him over night and the next
morning we arrived at my uncle's, Joshua R. Goldsmith,
who came out the fall before. Uncle and father had
taken up 160 acres of land and divided it between them,
each having 80 acres. My uncle had chopped one acre for
us so it was ready to burn, log and clean off. We moved
in with uncle to live until we could build a cabin for
our own use. We blocked it up with logs, and the roof
was made of bark peeled from trees, and for flooring
we split out slabs. The floor was built 18 inches
from the ground, and was just long enough to hold
the bed and set the table on, and the edge made a
capital seat for the children, and in front was a
space of about six feet were the ground formed the
floor. The end of the cabin was left open were we
built our fire to cook our meals on.
Now I want the reader to take a walk with
me back to Canisteo, to Bennett's, Col. Bill Stephens,
Capt. Elias Stephens, Jacob Doty and Benjamin Stephens'.
It is here we had to come to get corn, and all our
supplies. This was our Egypt. Every man had to hawl
(haul - sic-JAC) all his living up this dismal road
let it cost what it would. Those who had no teams had
to shoulder a bushel or more of corn on his own back
and carry it up this awful road to feed his little
darlings at home, living in a shanty without windows
or doors, and oh, how sweet it would be when it came
on the table. You can see how we had it then and how
you have it now.
In speaking of things that happened along
this road, it brings to mind the first time we passed
over it when we met an old hunter whose name was Ezra
Stephens, who showed us the place where they found
Joshua Stephens, who was shot by the Indians. He told
us all the particulars, as it happened just before we
came to this section of the country and was the all
absorbing topic of conversation at that time. I will
now take the reader back to our cabin that we had got
in to.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related
by Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Aug. 2, 1888 (2)
I will now take the reader back to our cabin
that we got into. The next thing was to clear off the
acre of land chopped. We burned off the brush and logs,
and planted it to corn, potatoes, cucumbers, squashes,
and a little of most everything, and got through the
eleventh day of June. We had an excellent crop of
everything we put in the ground that late day, and we
felt proud that we had got in such a good country.
I will now tell you how we stood financially!
After counting the cost of moving and all other expenses,
we had just sixteen dollars left to feed a family of ten
until we could get a living off of our own land. At this
time we had an ox team and one cow, and there being no
pasture in town were we could turn them out, we had to
turn them into the woods to live, and put a big bell on
them that we could hear a mile, if the wind was right. As
good luck would have it, the cow had a calf; we kept that
in a pen while the old cow went off to feed, and when she
had filled herself she was sure to come home to her calf.
There was trouble in our shanty when the cow
came home the first night; we could smell her breath, and
that was not all, when we came to eat the mild we found
out what was the matter; she had been eating leeks. There
were acres of them and the cattle loved them. We soon
learned that we too must eat leeks, and then we could
eat the milk and butter. Every inhabitant that time had
to let their cattle run in the woods and every head had
a big bell on. Sometimes they would wander off in the
woods and could not be found in two or three days. You
had better believe there was trouble when we did not
get the cows at night as it cut off the supply of milk
and butter. It also dried off the cows, they not being
milked regularly. Sometimes they would go four or five
miles to find grass. They frequently went down to
Andover as there the timber had been cleared off and
burned for the ashes, which were used to boil "black
salts, " which was at that time quite extensively used.
(1) Sometimes there would be several droves of cattle
together and the cow boys would drive them all home and
you had ought to have seen the sight and heard the
different chimes of the bells.
Young folks are naturally timid in the woods
and they may want to know if there are any wild animals
at that time. Yes, the woods were full of them. I have
counted twenty-eight deer in one drove, and there were
bears, wolves, panthers, and wild cats. It was a great
blessing to the old inhabitants that there was game in
the woods and fish in the streams. We could not have
lived without them. To illustrate and give you some idea,
I will tell you what an old settler in the town adjoining
told me. He went to do a day's work at sunrise -- that was
the custom then -- and worked about one hour when he began
to feel that it was most breakfast time, when his employer
says: "Peter, we have no meat for breakfast; you will have
to kill a deer." So Peter started, and says: "Boys, when
you hear me shoot, come and help me in with it." He had
not been out of sight long before they heard the report
of his gun, and sure enough he had shot a fine deer and
they had the meat in good season. The custom was then,
when any one killed a deer to divide it was with his
neighbors. Every one had a piece. The streams were full
of speckled trout until they built sawmills.
Speaking of our meat supply, we used to watch
deer licks. These were places where the water was brackish,
where they would come and suck the water, and we used to
go and watch for them nights. We would build a scaffold
in a tree near by, twenty or thirty feet high, and have
some dry torch wood burning that would not blaze, then
have a bunch of shavings tied up ready, and sulfur matches.
When we heard a deer come in the lick we would apply the
match to the burning torchwood and then we could see to
shoot. The light on them in the night makes them look
white. They were hunted in various ways. Sometimes we
would find them with the cows, they having got used to
the cowbell. Sometimes we would make a lick by boring a
hole in a log and fill it with salt, and watch when they
got at work at it and kill them.
When we first came to Greenwood, before there
had been any fire in the woods to make it sprout, it was
the nicest woods I ever saw; they were open and one could
ride on horseback most anywhere. On the up-land the timber
was mostly beech and maple. The maple was a great help to
the people as from them we got our sugar and molasses. The
beech used to furnish feed to fat our pork and to call in
pigeons to nest which supplied us with young "squabs."
They used to nest here in an early day, every bearing year.
Once when at work in the sugar camp on the head of
Bennett's Creek, about five o'clock in the evening, we
discovered pigeons in clouds; there were so many of
them they fairly darkened the sky, and they kept coming
until dark when the tree tops was black with them.
After night fall we thought we would get a large
quantity of them by falling trees one against another,
but in that we were disappointed, for as
soon as we struck a tree with an ax they would flutter off.
We never got one pigeon that night, but we got what was
better. They nested that year in the big marsh and we got
any quantity of "squabs," as fat as butter. People came a
great distance with wagons and barrels, and fell acres of
timber to get them It was a sight to see and one that we
never shall see in this country again.(2)
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related
by Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Aug. 9, 1888 (3)
Mr. Editor, I beg pardon, you must indulge
in me and publish this in addition to pioneer life in
Greenwood: I feel that I have omitted to do Levi Davis
and his family justice. I want to say right here that
Davis's was always headquarters in Greenwood, and is
to this day. Much of the development of the town was
due to Mr. Davis and his family. I mean to give honor
to whom honor is due. There are some now living in that
town that he helped into business when they were poor,
that are well-to-do to-day, that were witnesses to what
I now write. He had an interesting family, smart,
intelligent, and all made useful citizens in town. Mr.
Davis once represented this Assembly district in our
state legislature, and filled many places of trustwith
credit, before he passed away, and uncle Levi and mother
was looked up to for council in those days, and were
missed more than any two inhabitants in town. I will now
speak of Redmond Davis, he having recently passed away.
I must confess that I never knew his parents. He once
represented in the Assembly of this state with honor.
He was a help to the town, full of alms deeds, and left
the world the better for having been in it.
John Davis, of whom I will now speak was a
liberal man. He was the baby when we came to town. I
was intimately acquainted with him, am glad of this
opportunity to speak of his good qualities. He too done
much for his town, represented it in town, count and
state. After all his good deeds he was much abused on
account of the part he took in the contemplated Pine
Creek railroad. He was an interesting man, and saw that if
the road when through it would help the town, and it was
no fault of his that it did not. If he erred, it was in
judgment, and we are all liable to make mistakes. Much
trouble came from that transaction, and cost to the town,
by tow or three individuals, needlessly made, that were
enemies to him, Davis, and I think an impartial republic
will bare me out in saying John was right and they were
wrong. You know in every town there are men that are ready
to make mischief and trouble.
Once more we return to where we left off.
We used to turn our hogs in the woods to fat on
beech nuts. It made for oily port but good eating for a
hungry man who was glad to get even that.
Of the sugar -- maple -- much could be said. A
good sugar camp was to us then wheat the dairy is to
farmers now. We used to take sugar to Monroe and
Livingston counties to sell and trade for pork and grain.
I have done so several times and my neighbor used to do
it. We used to make sugar making a specialty. It was a
great help to the old setters. We used to select maple
timber to burn and make ashes to make "black salts." It
used to sell for three dollars per hundred. In the winter
season we used to work at burning timber for ashes also,
and once bought a barrel of buckwheat flour and paid $14
for it, with salts at three dollars per hundred, made in
the dead of winter. Think of this when you peruse these
sketches and compare how we used to fare then and now.
We done all this with a will and never said I can't.
Of pine and white ash timber much might be
said, and I may speak of it hereafter.
We had no roads, no schoolhouses, no mills,
no meeting houses, and were about on a footing with the
red man, but we had a will, and where there is a will
there is a way. We went to work laying out and making
roads, so new comers could get in. The next thing was
to build a school house were we could send the children
to school. We built what then went by the name the Crusen
school house, of logs, with fireplace and chimney in one
end, and furnished it with rude benches. The next thing
was to build a grist and sawmill. A man came from
Courtland (Cortland) county by the name of Aaron Burrows,
who was a millwright, but too poor to build mills. We
finally told him if he would undertake it we would put
in and help him, and we soon had a grist and saw mill,
although rude things, they answered for the present,
and that was all we wanted as we did not put on much
style those days.
I will now take the reader back to our log
cabin. As our money was short, myself and my oldest
brother, William had to go out to work, and father took
a tramp to find work for us and finally succeeded. He
hired me out to Captain Elias Stephens, then keeping
tavern the next house below William Thomas', and my
brother William he hired out to Jacob Manning, then
living on Bennett's Creek. Father and the rest of the
little boys done what they could to improve our humble
home. They chopped a little fallow to get in some wheat
that fall. This being the first time of my going out to
work, you must imagine my feelings. I was very lonesome.
I missed somebody very much. Who do you suppose it was?
It was my dear mother. I did not know how much I loved
her until I found myself among strangers and away from
our dear little cabin. Not that I was not used well as
they treated me splendidly. I found Mr. and Mrs.
Stephens to be very generous, but to use the language
of the poet, "The sun may rise in other skies, but not
half so bright as at Greenwood." This will give the
readers some idea of how the young boys fared in the
woods.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related by
Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Aug. 16, 1888 (4)
At the time I worked for Mr. Stephens I was
lonesome and frequently went over to what we then called
her the widow Rhoda Stephens, and heard her tell the tale
of woe of the Indians shooting her husband. I got some
acquainted with her children, Bessie, Abby, Clinton and
George. We use to go after the cows together. Most all
of these I speak of have passed away, but I still cherish
them in my memory. People those days were more friendly to
strangers when they are at the present time. There was at
that time a man by the name of Davis living with Mr.
Stephens, he was what we then called "on the town." We
having no poor or county house, the poor were sold to the
lowest bidder, those that would keep them the cheapest
and they lived with the family and were happy and I think
that is the way the poor should be cared for. Now it costs
more to build county houses and keep our superintendents
than it does to keep the poor. The worst man I worked for
was Amos Lewis, he lived up the creek, the first house
below Levi Davis's he was a hunter. Did no labor much,
but made a living principally by hunting. The first day
I commenced to work for him he told me in the morning what
to do as he was going hunting. He told me to do this and
that, that it would have taken me a week to do. I was
going in with all my might, for I thought if all was not
done when he came home he would be mad and then turn me
off, but fortunately for me there came a man that lived
up at the head of the creek by the name of William Burger
and, I told him my trouble. He soon cheered me up, and
said he had worked for Lewis and that was his way of doing
business. You do what you can and it will be all right
when he comes home, which proved to be the case. People
kept moving in and I was getting acquainted with the new
comers when they arrived. Every one would be interested
and would be ready to lend a hand. At that time there
was several log houses and barns going up, loging
(logging - sic.-JAC), spinning and quilting bees, and
O how we used to enjoy it. I was full of life then,
though and quick, and hard to handle for a boy of my age.
Most all the old settlers had large families of
boys and girls and the young folks soon got acquainted
and Sundays you would see them out in droves, going
sometimes four or five miles to meeting or to a quilting
or spinning bee. They always went on foot for there was
no carriages or horses, and if there had been the roads
there such that they could not use them. These time will
always be fresh in my memory.
The people were healthy. We lived in town seven
years before there was a death of an adult and that was a
young man by the name of Oliver Bess, who was learning the
hatters trade and was taken with the old typhoid fever.
Several took it from him and died. At that time it looked
upon in a different light to what it is now. The population
is so great now and death so often that people get hardened
to it, but then it made a deep impression on the new
colony. There was no public burying place. They generally
buried the dead on their own land or at some school house
where they held meetings.
Take a walk back with me to our cabin, the
center of attraction to me, for I loved the humble home,
for mother was there. The ensuing fall we got in about
one acre of winter wheat and built a log house with a
good shingle roof, plastered with mud. In October we went
down to Canisteo to get corn. I husked first for William
Bennett. He then husked his corn on the hill. Each hand
would have a basket and take two rows at a time. The stalks
were large and tall, ten feet high, and the corn splendid.
We had a good time. Bennett was an old hunter and fisher.
He would go out most every time and fetch a string of fish
or deer so as to have a change for his work hands. To tell
the truth and make a long story short, the Canisteo people
generally were a noble, generous, big hearted people, and
when we came down out of the woods they seemed to be on
a strife to see which could do the most for us. I can
never forget their kindness. If any body enjoyed life it
was the old pioneers of Canisteo. Peace to their ashes.
We got our corn paid for, then father took the oxen and
went down the awful road and got it home. Winter set in
and we had not got one spear of grass to feed our ox team
and one cow and calf. We finally started out with the oxen
and a rude wood shod sled and went into the town of
Independence (Allegany Co., NY-JAC) and found a man by
the name of Stilmon (Stillman-JKC) that took us in and
let us thrash, paying us in rye straw. We took home a
small load of this, and that is all the fodder we had to
keep four head of cattle that winter. We were chopping
fallow all winter and killed the brush, and when we started
out in the morning with the ax on our shoulder, the cattle
knew what it meant and would follow, as they got each a
chunk of corn bread that was baked in the ashes and each
a handful of the straw we got at Stilmon's (Stillman's-JAC).
In the spring you might put your hand on their ribs and
find their skin loose and they looked fine.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related by
Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Aug. 23, 1888 (5)
The children had to go to school by a foot
path and marked trees. The school district was large. My
oldest brother and myself could not go to school much,
for we had to work out to get our clothes. The first fine
coat we got we went in the winter to Canisteo and cut
logs for Daniel Jamison, at five dollars a hundred, that
averaged 18 inches top end we used to cut fifty logs a
day on an average. The first fur hat I ever had I made
shingles and bought. The first fine shoe I ever had I
bought myself. You see by this time I considered myself
a man, though young, I could do a man's work, and when
I went out Sundays or to some doings, I wanted to be as
respectably dressed as the rest of the young men. But at
this time we had not much leisure time. Every one, male,
and female had something to do. The men clearing the land
and the women folks spinning flax and wool and weaving to
make our own linen and fulled cloth for every day wear.
The girls worked as well as boys all had their work and the
motto was then they that do not work neither shall they eat.
It was no disgrace for the girls to have their sleeves
rolled up to the elbow and help mother wash dishes, and
if a young man happened in scud and hide because they
were caught at kitchen work. But I give you notice when
the work was all done and they did fix up it was an
imposing sight to see their healthy red cheeks, the
very picture of health, go five miles to meeting on foot.
We had as smart and good looking set of girls
as I ever saw in all my travels and I have been around a
good deal. The boys were a full match for the girls,
tough and hardy as bucks. Work did not make them
miserable then as it seems to now days, and one boy
then would do more in one day than two can do now.
To give you some idea: I have cut seven acres of
grain, wheat, in one day and, my brother offered to
bet fifty dollars that I could cut eight and no one
dare take him up. This was in Avon, Livingston county.
There were men in Greenwood that could chop six cord of
four foot weed in one day. We did not have none of your
lightning saws then, when we wanted wood cut. It was just
so with the girls I know one girl that cooked and waited
on a lot of us that were haying and helped mild a dozen
cows and churn and spin forty knots of yarn, all this in
one day. Her name was Mary Davis and I call on Levi Rogers
to prove it, who lives at Andover (Allegany Co., NY-JAC).
The first celebration of the Forth of July in
town, was to Cameron Corners. We were quite patriotic at
that time. The old Revolution soldiers were not all dead
then and they used to be out in force on such occasions
and set at the head of the table and have a free dinner.
I think Captain John Rogers was a marshal of the day and
Benjamin Brundage, orator. We had plenty of martial music,
fifes and drums and they knew how to use them for we had
to train two or three times a year. Every boy that was 18
years old had to do military duty. We got a nice pole and
had it in readiness. We were at a loss what to do, we had
no cannon. Finally there was a man by the name of Isaac
Pickle, a blacksmith, took a wide piece of iron and doubled
it together and brazed it and fastened in a birch pin, made
a prime hole, then we took a large piece or block of wood,
counter sunk it in the log and loaded it to the muzzle,
then we up with our pole and let the stars and stripes
float to the breeze. Mr. Brundage gave a toast: Gentlemen
we have raised a liberty pole for the sake of the little
fun we will make it manifest by firing Pickles gun. We
had a good time, all enjoyed it, old and young and at
night the young folks had a ball. We danced up stairs,
and the roof was low, we had to keep in the center of the
building to keep our heads from hitting the rafters, but
you had better believe there was decorum there. A good many
had moved in from the distant States and some were there for
the first time. Each tired to excel in shaking the pigeon
wing and keeping scotch time. We had not go to cotillions
much then. French four, the eight hand reel and three hands
and a half round were our favorites. You ought to have been
there and see for yourself. We all felt that we were on
trial for good behavior. This was our first Independence
ball in town, and young men and women eyed each other close,
for at that day if a young man did not pay his bill or got
drunk or was caught in some mean trick he was out with
the girls, they had to carry themselves straight. Fine
clothes and jewelry were of no account then, but the
character and public sentiment was strong enough to frown
on misconduct.
Now we will harvest the little field of wheat
we had put in on our new farm it ripened very uneven and we
were almost out of Johnny cake and wanted some wheat bread
very much, so we cut some of the ripest spots and left it
out in the sun a day or two and then thrashed it out with
flails. Having no barn then, we laid down a couple of logs
and laid sleepers on them, then laid planks or boards on
them and put up side boards then we were ready for business.
Having no fanning mill we would scoop up a shovelful when
the wind blew, to clean the chaff out, then we would spread
sheets on the old shanty roof and let it dry in the sun a
couple of days, then William and I took it on our backs
down to John Stephen’s to mill one morning before breakfast.
That made the sweetest bread I ever ate in my life. During
the dry time when we could not get our grinding done here
we had to go to Belmont, Allegany Co. At that time where
Wellsville now is was a dense pine forest and only one log
cabin. There was but one wagon track and some places the
wagon wheels would go in up to the hub. Being out of bread
Francis Krusen and I started each with a load of grain
to Belmont, then called Phillipsburg. Arriving there we
found the mill damn had just given out, and we could get
no grinding until repaired. So they told us if we would
help repair the dam they would board us and keep our teams
Saturday we got our grist, having left home Monday morning .
Saturday night we arrived home. We had each taken a small
grist for our neighbors and we staid so long that some of
them had to live on boiled millet, that we used to raise
those days. To illustrate there came a woman to our house
that lived in a back settlement with two small children
and told mother she had eaten nothing in two weeks but
nettle greens and nursed two children. One child weaned
but she let it nurse with the baby to keep it from
starving. Think of this you that have every thing that
heart could wish and be thankful that these old pioneers
felled the trees, made the roads, built the school houses
and made the rough ways smooth and drove the Redmen out,
conquered the wild beast and made things ready for you.
TO BE CONTINUED
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related by
Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Aug. 30, 1888 (6)
Pleasure sleighs and carriages was out of the
question in the woods. Sometimes we had to build and use
small logs for planks, and where there was swampy places we
used small logs, laid down close together so an ox or
horse could not get their foot in the holes. I have seen
such bridges thirty rods long. Horses were not much used,
they could not live on browse and run in the woods, so ox
teams was the order of the day. Some of the inhabitants
who had oxen had no wagons and would lay a bag of grain
on the ox yoke and some would make what we call a dray,
falling a small crotched sapling and cut it long enough
above the crotch for a tongue, leave the prongs about
five feet long, fixing a platform on the crotch, put some
auger holes in, then stakes, then side boards, forming a
box, then they were ready for business. There were but
few wagons and when any one had to go to Canisteo for
supplies, those that had wagons had plenty of
opportunities to lend. Most all the wagons in the place
were old so they soon gave out. Sleighs were not used much
until the country was cleared up. Our sleds then everyone,
almost we made ourselves. We had to make all of our farm
implements. Our harrows we made of crotched trees. Select
one the right size, cut the right length, bore holes for
the teeth, drive them in, put on the clevises and all
was ready. We made our own brooms, axe helves, forks,
hoe handles and some made their own bedsteads and used
bark for cords. Until we raised flax we used to use deer
skin and woodchuck skin, tanned, and moose wood bark to
make flail strings and mittens and bag strings. Some wore
buck skin breeches, and some times we had a deep fall of
snow some wore snow shoes made something like a long ox
bow with cross pieces to strap to the foot and travel on
the snow. Sometimes children that had no shoes would go
out bare footed in the snow to play and when their feet
got cold hold up one foot to get it warm, then the other
foot, and when they could stand it no longer spring in
the house.
I was once going out to Avon, Livingston Co.,
in the winter, with horses and sleigh. At that time there
was a piece of woods I would say a mile long. I there met
a girl twelve or fourteen years old, bare foot, going
through the woods, and her feet looked as red as geese
feet. It used to be the custom for boys and girls to go
bare foot in the summer and we use to bruise our feet
and have what we called stone bruises on our feet. It
was a common thing to sometimes knock off a toe nail.
sometimes we would step on something sharp and cut a hole
in the foot. After we got the land cleared up the fires
run in the woods, the berry brush began to come up and
soon berries were abundant. It was said by some that
Greenwood was great for blackberries and babies, and they
were right, for I never saw so many berries and babies
as I have seen in Greenwood. It was a thriving place for
most ever thing but money, that was not there. We had to
go out of town to get money. We use to go out north
harvesting every year, great droves of us. We got good
wages those winters. We use to lumber and raft and go
down the river rafting. Every thing those days to get
money. We had to have a little to pay taxes and it was
handy to have a spare shilling in our pocket. While the
reader has been reminding of babies I want to say right
here that I think the old stock that sailed on the
Mayflower will soon be extinct on this continent and
this blessed and free country filled up with foreign
born. You are wise, think of these things and ponder
them well for they will soon stare you in the face.
Some of our best blood was shed in the Rebellion while
aliens were exempt from going still they claimed our
protection, and I shall always think that our rulers
erred in judgment and did wrong in not having this
class of our population help to put down the Rebellion.
Our mode of building was to cut logs roll
them up on long skids until they were high enough for
beams, then they were pun on then we generally went about
four feet higher, the plaits and rafters were put on,
and then we cobbed up at the ends with logs and tow foot
up at the ends with logs and two foot shingle, and then
bore two inch auger holes and put pins in, lay on a pole
for the butt of the shingle to rest against, then a block
to each end, then another pole, and so on up, using no
nails. Our chimney was built in this way: Take stone
and build the back up about four feet then we would get
a couple of crooked poles resembling sled crooks and lay
one end on the chimney back and the other on the beam of
the chamber floor, then go up with the chimney with mud
and ticks, put in a long lug pole with a long iron with
iron hooks to hang pots and kettles on with a large stone
hearth, then the house wife was rigged for cooking. They
first started out with a large baking kettles with a
large cover, put in the loaf, set the kettle on coals
then put on the led and put coals of fire on that to
bake the bread. Pretty soon the tin oven was introduced
then they baked that way, but had no way yet to bake pan
cakes, so the crane was used; they could swing that out
and tend the griddle then nicely. We used to burn four
foot wood. Have a large back log, lay down a couple of
short chunks then the fore stick then start the fire
with a little wood and chips and you would have a fire
that would warm a hunter that had been out on the chase
on a cold winter's day. To make short cake and pie crust
they use to burn cobs and take the ashes for baking
powder, the next they used pearlash and then salaratus
and I need not tell you what they use now. Griddle pan
cakes use to be the order of the day every winter while
I lived there. Our principal crops while the country was
new was buckwheat, oats, rye, potatoes. Winter wheat
generally rusted and shrunk. Spring wheat done a little
better, but buckwheat, oats and potatoes could not be
beat and while we was clearing land was plenty. We have
sold oats for fifteen cents a bushel and potatoes for
ten cents, and take it out of the store at that. We have
bought cows for $10 and sold for that in the fall of the
year. Common labor was fifty cents from sunrise to sunset.
Carpenters work $1. Butter 8 cents a pound, fat sheep
from $1.50 to $2. Our sports at that early day was
playing ball and wrestling, running foot races,
shooting at a mark, and that was generally done after
some bee or raising some building for we did not have
much leisure those days, but when we did get together
we made things move right along.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related by
Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Sept. 6, 1888 (7)
I would say that Greenwood has always held her
own in every enterprise with her sister towns. She has
burnished her full quota of public men, lawyers, bankers,
teachers, members of our State Legislature, members of
Congress, preachers of the gospel and in all the walks
of life has never lagged behind. There is many things
I might say of that moral town, for it was there that I
arrived at man's estate. It is there I formed acquaintances
that I shall always cherish until my dying day. There are
many things that cluster around my memory I can never forget.
It was there I found my Sarah. It was there our children
was born unto us and it was there I was born from above,
of which I shall speak hereafter. We used to take solid
comfort. Neighbor used to take solid comfort. Neighbor
strangers seemed to love each other better than own
relation do now. The customs were different. No body
was trying to be rich, but to enjoy the fruit of their
labors. I forgot to mention the doctors that Greenwood
presented to the world, and numerous other things I might
mention. Our women in their sphere were as noble as the
men and some of the best housekeepers I ever found lived
in Greenwood.
I will now tell you what qualification young
men and women had to have to marry. They did not marry for
money, they married love, and worked for the money. If a
young many and woman was industrious and had no bad habits
and had good common sense they were fits subjects to marry,
and some did that had noting but their hands and good
health. They had to begin housekeeping in a very humble
way. I knew a young married man that went down to Canisteo
to Stricklands’ store and bought his outfit of crockery and
carried it home in a pocket handkerchief; and they got
along in the world well. I have known some that started
quite high that came to grief. Those that started poor
done the best. When young men did marry they expected to
support their wife and not have the women support them, as
some have to do at this day in the circle of my
acquaintance. Such a man as that would have been drummed
out of the town of Greenwood or took up for a vagrant and
sent to the house of correction. We use to go fifty miles
sometimes to get work when we lived in the woods, but now
if a man will work he will get it at home.
I will now give you a little of my experience
as a hunter: I was always handy with the gun and was a
good shot at a mark but could not kill deer. I had what
old hunters called the "buck fever." Finally there was
an old hunter came to our house and wanted some tobacco.
He said he could not see a deer until he had some tobacco.
He knew my failing about shooting deer and told me to go
out and when I saw the next deer to get already to shoot
then turn my head and spit then take sight and be sure to
see both sights then let go, and I found his advice done
me good. I went out soon after and laid one out, and this
is the way I did it: There was another fellow following
some deer and I knew the runways where they would come, so
I ran and got there in time and waited near the runways. In
a short time up walked a large buck, big horns, and stopped.
I thought of what the hunter told me and bang when the gun
and away went the deer, but his flag tail was down. I went
to where he stood and discovered hair and blood. Seeing
he bled from both sides, I after him expecting to find
him dead every minute. I never thought of reloading my gun
but pursued on a keen jump and you had better believe I
made good time, (probably a mile in five minutes,) paid no
attention to where I was going, towards home or from home,
I had blood in my eye. I shot him too far back through
the belly. I shot at the biggest place. On we went, I did
not know whether I was in the body or out. finally we came
to a clearing and a shanty. I made a halt and went in the
shanty. I knew the inmates and said to them you have moved.
The man looked at his wife and smiled and said I guess you
are lost. And so it was, I supposed I was in the town of
independence, but was in Greenwood. He volunteered and
went we me and soon we got the deer. You had better
believe there was s a proud chap about my size. I
walked home that night to tell my folks and comrades
all about it. After that I killed a good many deers but
will tell of only one more exploit: One Sunday afternoon
there were two deer came in our field and the temptation
was great to shoot them, but I resolved not to break the
Sabbath, and let them work. Monday morning bright and
early I was after them. wounding one of them I went to
reload my gun, and found I had no bullets with me and
had to leave and go for bullets to the settlement. I went
down to Mr. Lane's mill and run some bullets. They had
a dog and William Lane and Lester Harding wanted to take
their dogs and go with me. I told them to take a string and
lead them for I thought I could get a shot before we let
the dogs go. So when we got in the vicinity I told them to
stop and I would go over the brow of the hill, and when
they heard me shoot to let the dogs come. As I came to the
top of the hill well deer jumped and ran some forty rods
and stopped behind a large pine stump and stuck his head
I put a bullet through his head and he turned a somersault
and fell dead and the wounded one jumped up and I put a
bullet through his head before the dogs arrived. It was
all done in less time than I would have taken to tell this
so I thought I was well rewarded for keeping the Sabbath.
The largest deer I ever killed was down Bennett's Creek
near Thomas'. They called him old goldin. He was very poor,
but had a nick like a bull; I sold him to a man by the name
of Temple, it being so far from home and he was crazy to
have him. Small game I have killed of all kinds in large
quantities but never killed a bear, panther or wolf. They
were afraid of me and run.
For fear I may weary the reader I will treat
on another subject. I want to speak more of Levi Davis and
his family after he got out of the woods and accumulated
property. When the famine raged in Ireland he sent forty
bushels of wheat to feed the hungry and Mrs. Davis was a
model woman in many respects, and was a woman of good
economy. I speak of her with pleasure she was a mother
to the motherless and was unceasing in feeding the hungry
and clothing the naked. To illustrate: Uncle Levi came in
one day and said woman, where is such a cow I haven't seen
her in a day or two: Mrs. Davis said she is up to Daniel
Ward's. You know they have a family of little children
that have got to have milk and I told Ward to drive the
cow home and milk her for they got about all she gave
daily and they are as able to milk her as I am and have
not half so much to do. All this came under my observation.
I might enumerate other instances, but this will give some
idea of what they were and how we missed them when they
passed away to reap their reward above. You know we read
in the good book "I was in hunger and ye gave me meat,
thirsty and ye gave me drink, a stranger and ye took me
in, enter into the joys of they Lord."
TO BE CONTINUED.
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Pioneer Life in Greenwood - As related by
Dennis McGraw, of Purdy Creek [continued]
Issue date: Sept. 13, 1888 (8)
There was a time in Greenwood after they
had cleared up the land and began to plow that the
land was not productive. They could not half till
it for the stumps, roots and stone, and some got
discouraged and sold their improvements and left town.
At this time David Sherman from Herkimer county, came
in town and having some means bout out some of the
inhabitants, in what we called Youngs settlement,
and commenced the dairy business. He was a man of no
pretensions, plain, but a model of industry, and the
best cheese maker in town, having a wife that was a
pattern of neatness and piety they succeeded well in
their vocation. When we wanted a piece of good cheese
we knew where to get it ever time. He was a carpenter
and joiner and by industry had made some money. He
commenced to build suitable buildings for a large dairy
farm and put up the largest barn then in the county.
The best foundations under it and a cellar under the
middle of it to store all kind of vegetables or his
cows and family use. I feel it is my duty to give
Sherman more than a passing notice, and while I try
in my feeble way to speak of his alms deeds I cannot
refrain from tears. When I saw the notice of his death
little did I think that we should not have a more
extended notice of David Sherman's worth. I suppose
his children did not want to undertake the task and
left it to strangers to speak of his worth and I
have waited hoping some one would speak one word in
his praise, therefore I shall see that his example
is not lost to the world.
You know it is the custom now when men
occupy high stations in life to extol their virtues
to the skies and all of our editors are ready to do
them honor. Here is a man of no pretensions that out
strips every man I ever saw. While I am speaking of
this strain I ask children that are beloved, for
their father and mothers' sake, to come to Purdy
Creek and see me and we will have a good time. Now
reader I will give my reason for the judgment I have
given: I built a school house in the district that
Sherman belonged. He was trustee, or one of them,
and employed me to build a new school house near the
Catholic church on the four corners, and I built it.
At the same time he made application to be set of fin
a new district, but they would not set him off The
State superintendent siding against him.
Notwithstanding all this he moved right along,
bought lumber, hauled it, hired a workman and built
a good school house down towards Whitesville (Allegany
Co., NY - JAC), where there was a new settlement that
was deprived of school. Then he went to Almond
(Allegany Co., NY-JAC) hired Miss Forbes, a good
teacher and informed his poor neighbors that all was
now ready, bidding them to send their children to
school, paying all out of his own pocket, probably
six hundred dollars. It happened that potatoes were
worth $1 a bushel and there was a man by the name of
Robinson keeping boarding house at Corning, he came
to Mr. Sherman and offered him $1 a bushel for three
or four hundred bushels and would pay the money down
for them. Mr. Sherman said I dare not let you have
them. The whole settlement of new comers over the
marsh that are poor and I must keep my potatoes for
them. What was the consequence? These poor people got
them for work, and when they settled was taxed three
or four shilling a bushel. Another instance was when
hay was $20 per ton and the poor could get it of Sherman
for $10.
I will now speak of Pioneer life of the
Methodist church in Greenwood and bring this narrative
to a close for I fear I have been too lengthy already.
the first presiding elder that came up to the Canisteo
was Abner Chace (Chase-JAC), and the first preacher in
charge was Olcott. There use to be two on a circuit
them days. Their field of labor was to start at Canisteo
and come up Purdy Creek, preach at Charles Hart's,
thence to Andover, thence to Whitesville, thence to
Greenwood, thence to Jasper, thence to Troupsburg,
thence to Woodhull, thence to Troups Creek, thence to
Billings' on Cowanesque river, preaching every day in
the week in barns, schoolhouses, private houses and
sometimes in the open air. they generally went on
horseback, wore green leggings that came above their
knees, and saddle bags behind. How they poured the
canister and grape in the enemy's camp and all the
weapons they carried then was the sword of the spirit,
and for a helmet the hope of salvation. How they would
cut the sinner down.
Right here I want to say what a change has come
to the Methodist church in sixty years. I think if John
Wesley knew where his people had got in spirituality, he
could not be still in his grave. It makes me feel sad to
contrast the past with the present. I have seen them
come from Canisteo with oxen and cart to quarterly
meeting so interesting were the meetings. Our preachers
had neither purse nor script, nor tow coats apiece. They
did not preach for money. that did not enter their minds.
They had no notes written only the Holy Ghost sent down
from heaven. I have decided to bring pioneer life to a
close hoping that I may have access to your columns
again some future day.
THE END
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Editor's notes to the above:
Section 2
EDITOR'S NOTE 1: The McGraw family apparently
settled the property that was, until recently owned by Mr.
& Mrs. Walter Redmond. Joshua Goldsmith owned that property
lying between the residences of Mrs. Hope Hulse and Mr and
Mrs Chris Roser. The "black salt" that Mr McGraw referred
to was apparently potash, which could be sold to Mr. Levi
Davis, at a cash value. This was one of the few ways for the
early settlers to obtain money.
Section 2
EDITORS NOTE 2: The happening that Mr.
McGraw is describing would have seemed no more
than an unusual experience,at the time. He is very
apparently describing a common occurrence which
took place throughout the country in those days. It
has been written that four million Passenger Pigeons
were killed in Michigan during one nesting in 1828.
The sad part is that the last Passenger Pigeon on
earth, died in Cincinnati, Ohio zoo September 1, 1914.
Section 6
EDITORS NOTE 3: The term "moose wood bark" that
was mentioned by Mr. McGraw left me puzzled I have found in
"A Reverence for Wood" by Eric Sloan that moose wood is
"Striped Maple". Striped maple does not grow very large,
possibly 15 to 25 feet. Some of it does still grow in the
Greenwood area.
Section 6
EDITORS NOTE 4: Having the privilege of hindsight
I cannot always agree with the opinion of Mr. McGraw as my
ancestors were probably digging potatoes in Ireland while
George Washington and Paul Revere were doing their thing to
the British. Be that as it may, I have nothing but admiration
for anyone who will make a record of the happenings of their
lifetime, that others may read and learn and enjoy. In that
spirit we print everything that Mr. McGraw wrote, – as he
wrote it.
Section 8
EDITORS NOTE 5: Having also tilled the soil of the
favorite town of not only Mr. McGraw but also of myself, I can
readily agree that we do have our fair share of stones and I
can also agree that the stumps and roots did present a problem
but he does not mention other factors that helped cause many
of the early settlers to move elsewhere. One such factor was
the anti-rent conflict, a confrontation with the Pulteney
Estate over the interest charged on the original purchase
price of their holdings which the settlers considered "rent"
rather that legal interest. Another factor was the opening of
the Erie Canal and the free land available in Michigan. In
later years a taxpayers revolt over taxes levied to pay the
cost of an ill-fated attempt to build a railroad in Greenwood,
caused much unrest.
End of Section 8
EDITORS NOTE 6: It appears that Dennis McGraw
was a very Godly man and has probably ended up in a good place
to look down and oversee our printing of his early writings.
With this in mind I wonder if I could write a letter to him,
and then if he wishes, he could answer in some way. There is
someone up there that could probably make that possible.
Dear Dennis:
It has been a great pleasure to have had your
work found and made available to us. And that somehow we now
have the machines and money to do a decent job of publishing
a book, makes me real happy. There are a few things I would
like to discuss with you, such as, you seldom told us the
names of the ladies you wrote of. Neither did you make it
clear how you were related to the Davis's or the Goldsmith's
or about the lives of your brothers and sisters. Then there
was the time you told of cradling 7 acres of grain, now come
on Dennis, you're talking to a fellow who has actually cut
grain with one of those contraptions. That was hard,
backbreaking, slow work. You were undoubtably a strong
young man Dennis, but 7 acres? Or the time you ran through
the woods, after a deer, carrying a heavy muzzle loader,
and did a mile in five minutes. That's a little hard to
swallow, Dennis. Then again I thought you were a little
rough on the good people of the Methodist Church. Those
loose moraled, modern people that you spoke of are the grand
old timers that we look back on and admire. Maybe it is
just the angle that you look at them from, Dennis. But you
angle must now be far better than mine, so you can now make
your own decision. Your writings have given us an insight
on many things of which we were unaware but now we have
something which we can investigate further. And Dennis,
if from up there you should know of anything else with
which we can improve our knowledge of the past and help
us save this heritage that we have, for those even another
hundred years in the future, could you arrange it so we
could run into it somehow? And if someone around here has
any information that would be useful to us, could you arrange
for someone to give them a nudge in the right direction. Well,
Dennis, after all of this work with your writings, I feel as
though I know you. I has been nice meeting you Dennis. I hope
to see you sometime in the future.
Yours,
Ed Mullen, Historian of Greenwood
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