This is a Message Board Post that is gatewayed to this mailing list.
Surnames: Shelby,Doubleday, Weavers, Clark, Douthit, Lyons, Griggs, WestgLayne, Knight,
Marsteller, Henderson, Sims, Connelly, Newberry, Stockton, Jones, Barnard, Griffith,
Basye, Rocks, Pierce, Kellogg, Bilderbacks, Jourdan, Pierce, Jenning, Bedwell, Trekell,
Down
Classification: Biography
Message Board URL:
http://boards.ancestry.com/mbexec/msg/rw/Ii.2ADE/594
Message Board Post:
Old Settlers
By Sandford C. Cox
Lafayette
1860
Page 36-42
CHAPTER VII.
LAGRANGE AND ITS PROPRIETOR-KEEL BOATS AND PEROGUES-
STAPLES OF WESTERN COMMERCE, BEESWAX, FEATHERS, FUR-SKINS, WHISKY AND FEVER AND AGUE
MEDICINES-INDIAN CREEK SETTLEMENT-BURNETTS CREEK-LARGE QUANTITIES OF WILD GAME-
CINCINNATUS-ITS DECLINE AND DEATH-KNIGHT, CUPPY, AND SUNDERLAND' S
NEIGHBORHOOD-SETTLEMENT ON TE GRAND PRAIRIE-STROLL BY MOONLIGHT-INDIAN CREEK HILLS-VIEW OF
THE WABASH RIVER AND WEA PLAIN BY MOONLIGHT-ENCHANTING SCENERY, AND DELIGHTFUL ECHOES
ELOATIHG OVER PLAIN AND VALLEY, AND REVERBERATING AMONG THE HILLS-BARKING OF A FOX-WILD
HOGS-THEIR FURIOUS ATTACK-RENCOUNTRE WITH THE HOGS-EXCESSIVE ALARM, AND IMMINENT
PERIL-DELIVERANCE.
In October, 1827, Isaac Shelby, a distant relative of Governor Shelby, of Kentucky, laid
out the town of Lagrange, on the lower line of Tippecanoe county, on the west side of the
Wabash river. In giving a list of the old settlers in division No. 2 of Tippecanoe
County, as made in my last, I will begin at Lagrange. When this town was first laid off,
its proprietor considered it a hopeful rival of Lafayette, Attica, Covington, and other
river towns. At first it gave fine promise of becoming a place of considerable business,
and for several years kept pace with the other villages along the river. Owners and
masters of keel boats and perogues, in ascending and descending the Wabash, invariably
made it a point to stop at Lagrange, and exchange bacon, salt, flour, and fever
and ague medicines, for beeswax, feathers, fur-skins, and whisky, in which articles the
proprietor kept up a pretty active trade. At this place there was a bloody affray between
a farmer by the name !
of Ensley, and a boatman named Scott, under the following circumstances: Scott and a
friend of his were ascending the Wabash in a perogues, heavily laden with flour, bacon,
whisky, &c. Ensley, who was at Cicot's trading house, about six miles below
Lagrange, asked Scott if he might ride in his perogue to Lagrange. This request was
readily granted, and the three soon pushed off their little craft, and commenced ascending
the river. Before reaching Lagrange there were some unpleasant feelings excited between
Scott and Ensley, in regard to the management of the craft; but on an appeal to the jug,
all differences were buried, and they were good friends again. Alter landing at Lagrange,
Scott wished to cross over to the east side of the Wabash, and asked his new acquaintance
if he would not ferry him over the river in Shelby's canoe, which was lying at the
landing. Ensley readily assented, and the two started to cross the river. In about
fifteen minutes Scott returned, a!
nd with much agitation, said: "Shelby, I have killed that man who ferried me over the
river!" "Impossible! How did it happen?" enquired Shelby. Scott replied:
"After he landed me on the other bank of the river, I started for Weaver's, and
had not proceeded over twenty rods through the grass and willow bushes, before I was
felled to the ground by a club. On looking up, I discovered that it was Ensley who had
struck me, and I instantly drew a dirk and ran after him, as he made for the canoe at full
speed. I overtook him before he reached the river, and stabbed him several times in the
back, until he fell upon his face in the sand, where he still lies-dead enough!"
Shelby said: "Let us go over and see-perhaps he is not yet dead-end you had better
get him to admit how the fracas occurred before he dies, and relieve yourself from
the grave charge of murder; which, in the absence of further evidence, might be fastened
upon you." In a few minutes Shelby, Scott and his fri!
end landed on the east bank of the river, and Shelby ran up to Ensley, who was lying upon
his face, and eagerly enquired the number and extent of his wounds. "They are fatal!
fatal!" responded the prostrate man. "How did it occur?" inquired
Shelby. "Ensley, tell how it took place-tell the truth; if the man is most in the
fault, say so; if you were the first to strike, say so-that justice may be done the man
when you are gone, provided your wounds prove mortal." "He has killed me! He has
killed me!" was all they could induce him to say. Scott, who had stood some rods
distant from the prostrate man, while Shelby was examining his wounds, and interrogating
him as to the manner of the fight-now spoke out and said: "You struck me
first, without cause, and without my knowing you were near me, and you felled me to the
ground with a club. I rose and pursued you with a knife, and struck you several blows in
the back, of which you may die; but I done it in self-defens!
e, to save my own life." Here Shelby again interposed, and told the parties to make
friends and forgive each other, before Ensley entered another world. The wounded man
finally relented, and said: "Scott, come here, and let us shake hands and forgive one
another;" but when Scott had approached within a few yards, Ensley raised up his
head, and motioned with his right band for him to come no nearer, saying, "Depart ye
cursed, I know ye not." At this Scott broke off the parley, and dispatched a
messenger with all possible haste for Dr. Harry L. Doubleday, who soon came, examined and
dressed Ensley's wounds, which he pronounced to be extremely dangerous, directing that
he should be carried home, or to Shelby's, and that he should abstain entirely from
the use of spirituous liquors, which, if indulged in, might bring on inflammation and
prevent his wounds from healing. Ensley was of a different opinion himself-he thought
there were no hopes of his recovery, and said that he ho!
ped his friends would allow him to enjoy the few hours remaining to him on earth in the
best manner he could; and as whisky was his greatest solace he hoped they would send off
for a gallon, and let him drink of it freely, as he could not bear to be moved from the
spot where he lay, and could not live longer than morning at farthest. His friends
reluctantly yielded to his wishes, sent for the whisky, and built a fire near him on the
sand to raise a smoke to keep of the musquitoes. Next morning the bucket of whisky was
well nigh drained, and he consented to be carried to his house. In a weeks he
recovered from his wounds so as to be able to walk about, and in a few months he was sound
and well. On meeting Dr. Simon Yandes, the doctor said: "Ensley, you are surely
knife-proof. That time your bowels were let out by the young man you bursted the
watermelon over his head in Union county, I supposed that you could not possibly
recover." Ensley waived the subject by!
drily remarking: "I'm tough, doctor; i'm tough." A polemic society was
organized in this town, which was strongly attended by debaters from Weaver's
neighborhood cast of the river, Judge Samuel B. Clark's neighborhood on the river
below, and the Mace, Davis and Fenton neighborhood, in Warren county. At one time there
appeared to be a strong probability of a lyceum and academy being established there. But a
few cabins and small frame houses, soon brought this village to its culminating
point, and it was in a few years entirely wiped out -and, like ancient Greece and Rome, it
lives only in history and Story. There were in that neighborhood, besides Shelby's
family, Jesse Douthit, Harvey H. Lyons, Noah Griggs, L. S. Westgate, Wm. Williams, Daniel
Gooden and Immel.
Near the mouth of Indian creek was Elijah Godfrey, John Buck, William Payne, Alex Croy,
Michael Jones, Boxley and Jehu Stanley. Near Slim prairie was Enos Moore, Aaron Dawley,
Fosters, Coon, Nagle and Burns. Northwest, on the edge of the Grand Prairie, and in the
timber lived Vannata, Eastburn, Shambaughs, Eliconhonce, McCray, Gates, Bilderbacks,
Rocks, Jourdans, Pierces, Jennings, Kellogg, Rawles, and others. North of this
settlement out, on the head waters of Burnett's creek, was another neighborhood,
composed of several families, viz: John Clark, Elisha G. Layne, Jourdan Knight, Charles H.
Marsteller, Jones Henderson, William Sims, Thomas Connelly, Newberry Stockton, Jr., Daniel
Stockton, David Jones, John Barnard, James Griffith, and Lysmund Basye. This locality was
long famous for large quantities of wild game. Many an extensive deer hunt and
wolf hunt has come off along the border of the Grand Prairie, and in the timber about the
head of Burnett's !
creek. Two or three miles east of the mouth of Indian creek was another neighborhood,
consisting of James Bedwell, Robert Williams, Thomas W. Trekell, William, Benjamin and
Samuel Knight, Francis Sunderland, Cuppy, Starret, Suits, James Emerson, H. Oilar,
Laytons, Russells, Samuel Bringham, Peter Caster, John Downey, Benjamin Crist, and others.
In this vicinity, on the Wabash river, opposite the mouth of Wea creek, D. Patton, and
others, at an early day, laid off the town of Cincinnatus, which entered the list of rival
river towns, with a spirit that, for awhile, promised a prosperous future. But its race
was not so long or glorious as that of Lagrange; and there remains not a vestige to mark
the place where the town of Cincinnatus stood.
A few miles below this defunct village I had an adventure many years ago, the recollection
of which still chills my blood with horror. An account of that truly fearful adventure, I
will now relate: On a balmy evening in June, 1835, I strolled from the cabin of
my brother-in-law, where I was stopping for the night, to enjoy a quiet moonlight ramble
through the verdant valley that surrounded his humble mansion, which stood about midway
between the Wabash river and the Indian creek hills, which lifted their elevated heads
several hundred feet above the bottom lands beneath. With difficulty I climbed to the top
of one of the peaks of this romantic range of hills. The scene which surrounded me was
sublime and picturesque beyond description. Before me, in the distance, lay the Wabash
River, rolling its silver current along the northern edge of the Wea plain, which was
besprinkled with garlands of wild flowers of every rich and variegated tint. Hawthorn and
wild plum bush!
es, overspread with wild honey- ckle and grapevine arbors grew in clusters along the
river banks, as if in love with its placid, laughing waters, that flashed and flamed in
the soft moonlight. I stood spell-bound, gazing upon the lovely prospect, and listening to
the many voices that came floating over the prairie and river for miles distant, then
reverberating and dying away in echoes amidst the surrounding hills. The talk and laughter
of children, blating of sheep, barking of dogs, and gabbling of geese, for three or four
miles off, came echoing around me with a clear, distinct and witching cadence. While thus
enchanted with the lovely scenery which surrounded me, and just as I repeated in an
audible voice,
"If there is an Elysium on earth,
It is this-it is this,"
A fox darted through the thicket, down a dark ravine, barking as it went. In a few moments
back it came at full speed, and passed over the hill near where I stood. I heard a
confused cracking of bushes, rattling of stones, and gnashing of teeth, with a loud
boo-boo-oh, from the ravine the fox had just left. Instantly I felt the peril of my
position-my hair stood on end, as the fearful truth flashed upon my mind that the fox had
started up a gang of wild hogs. I ran a few yards and sprang upon a large log,
which at first seemed to promise me safety, but which I soon abandoned when I discovered
that I could be approached from the upper side of the hill, where the log rose but a few
feet from the ground. I sprang off and ran for an oak tree that stood on the very summit
of the hill, gathering from the ground, as I ran, a sugar tree limb as thick as my arm,
and about eight feet long. On reaching the tree 1 found I could not climb it. Instantly I
threw my back against t!
he trunk of the tree, and faced my dreadful adversaries, which by this time were close
upon me. I waved my club, and yelled and screamed through very fright. They
made a furious onslaught-my waving bludgeon and violent gestures repelled them; they
renewed the attack again and again-my whirling, well-aimed club beat back the foremost: A
panorama of terrors passed through my mind, but Harpies, Furies, and the Gorgon terrors of
the fabled Medusa's head, encircled with hissing snakes, would be desirable, compared
with the horrible thought of being devoured alive by a gang of furious wild hogs, that
would, probably, in a few seconds, rend me into a thousand pieces, crush every bone, and
consume every vestige of my mutilated body, and every shred of my garments, so that none
would ever know when or how I left the world. A superhuman strength seemed to nerve my arm
as I plied my bludgeon, and yelled and hallooed at the top of my voice, which echoed
wildly among the surr!
ounding hills. During a slight pause in the combat, I heard my brother-in-law's voice,
as he ran to the rescue, crying, "'What's the matter? -What's the
matter?" By the time he reached the foot of the hill, my bristly adversaries, hearing
his voice in their rear, showed signs of retreating; but one old sow, who appeared to be
leader of the gang, and had in her several of the devils or evil spirits that entered into
her ancestors in the time of our Savior, was for keeping up the siege, which she actually
did, until my brother-in-law got within a few rods with his gun, when she turned her head
to One side, listened, heard his foot-falls as he ascended the hill, then raised her head,
snorted a retreat, and, with her devil-possessed comrades, darted off down the dark
ravine, and I felt as if an Andes had been lifted from my breast.