Ohio History Journal

PIONEER LIFE IN ASHTABULA COUNTY

 

BY JOSEPH A. HOWELLS*

 

The days of the pioneers are past. We may move

into and settle a new country -- or a new part of our

country -- but with the settler or immediately follow-

ing him, come the telegraph, the railroad, the printing

office, telephone, electric lights, water works, churches;

and long before the first child born in the settlement is

of age, the place is an old town or city, with all the mod-

ern improvements, comforts and vices. No matter

where you go now, you will not do as the pioneers in

the East, or more recently in the West, did -- there is no

home built of logs green from the stump, and the house

furnished from the surrounding woods; often the only

tools being an axe and auger, and it was a fortunate

pioneer who possessed the latter.

A pioneer in the true sense of the word, who settled

in Ashtabula County before 1810, told us that when

he built his log house, he had no bedstead, but stepped

a few feet from the door of his new house, cut down

small trees, and with his axe made a bedstead, cutting

off pieces of the tree with a crotch. These were used

for the four corner posts. Poles were laid on these and

bark from the tree stretched from side to side, and on

this bark -- instead of a woven-wire mattress, as is used

today -- the bed was laid, and instead of curled hair,

it was filled with fine twigs and leaves, and the one

feather bed brought from the eastern home placed on

the forest-made bedding.

* Written early in the year 1898.

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The pioneer of today moves to the "far west," if

such a locality exists. He goes at the rate of thirty

miles an hour, and with him is his factory-made furni-

ture, an organ or piano, all the necessary accessories to

a comfortable home and all the latest improved farm

implements--from a riding plow to a reaper and binder.

The settler of today cannot be a pioneer any more than

could there be a discoverer of new continents.

The men who settled Ohio and the older western

states, had been educated by early training for the heroic

and romantic life they were to lead. That life, no doubt,

was prosaic enough to them as they toiled and battled

with the forest and what would seem almost insur-

mountable difficulties; but to us, who now see it bereft

of its rough and rugged exterior, it appears a romance.

The heroism of the women of that day is one to call

forth our unbounded admiration. Many of them were

reared in the older New England States where they

were surrounded with all the comforts to be obtained

at that day. They left home, relatives, friends, church

and society, and after a tedious journey, in a rough

wagon, on horseback, or possibly a part of the time

walking over roads through the woods, camped where

night overtook them, surrounded with a forest never

penetrated by a white man, full of real or imaginary

dangers of Indians or wild animals. After weeks of

such journeying they arrived at their Ohio home, and

stopped in the woods until a house could be cut from

the trees and built, perhaps miles from a human habita-

tion.  If this would not make the wife and mother

faint at heart, what indeed would? Can we praise or

honor such womanhood, such heroism, too much?

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Pioneer Life in Ashtabula County   553

Such were the men and women who, by inheri-

tance, were fitted to people Ashtabula County and, al-

though not among its earliest settlers, yet they were

pioneers to all intents and purposes when they settled

in Trumbull Township in 1833. The county had then had

white people living in it for nearly forty years, but part

of it was as much in a state of nature as when the first

surveying party landed at Conneaut on the 4th day of

July, 1796.

With one family of this party, we now have to do.

The head came of sturdy New England stock -- almost

from Plymouth Rock, for their home was in the quaint

town of Truro, Cape Cod. Record of the family, as

early as 1665, is obtained and followed down to this

day. The swell of the sea, the beat of the old ocean and

the rough and broken shores of the mainland was a good

foundation for character and physical manhood.

Jonathan Rich, the fifth child and son of Jonathan

and Thankful Newcomb Rich, was born at Truro, Cape

Cod, Massachusetts, August 26, 1771. Soon after his

birth, the father enlisted in the Revolutionary War and

was one of those who perished in the memorable cross-

ing of the Delaware River under command of General

Washington.

This is the brief announcement we read in the rec-

ords of Truro, a village of less than a thousand inhab-

itants, but which has been settled more than two hun-

dred and fifty years, and which has sent out into the

world more than ten thousand sturdy men and noble

women to people our land, and to carry, to every state

of our Union, seed of the Puritan stock to develop it to

its present proportion.

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Jonathan Rich, Jr., was the second child of Jona-

than and Ruth Slate Rich, and was one of nine children.

He was born August 6, 1792, and married to Anna

Sanders. To them were born two sons, Horatio G. and

George W.

The next we know of this sturdy New Englander,

we find him living at Fort Covington, Franklin County,

New York, in 1812, and not far from the Canada line.

Militia companies were organized all along the borders

to repel invasions of the enemy from either side; and

at the age of 20, young Rich was enrolled in the New

York Militia, Captain David Erwin in command. As

no invasion was attempted, the members of the company

were allowed to go to their homes subject to call. In

March, 1813, the company was called out and stationed

near the Canada line some miles east of his home. The

British were holding a position near Huntington in

Lower Canada -- now the Province of Quebec.

Capt. Erwin learned from a deserter that the British

force at Huntington consisted of only about forty men.

He determined to capture them. At 12 o'clock on the

morning of March 15, 1813, Captain Erwin with about

100 men took up his line of march. An hour later they

were upon the enemy. So quietly had the approach been

made that the Yankees were past the main guard of the

British before they were discovered. When the alarm

was given our men were at the British headquarters.

A brisk fire began on the Americans both from front

and rear -- the guards they had passed, having been

aroused, soon began to fire on our men. Captain Erwin,

thus finding himself attacked in front and rear, thinking

discretion the better part of valor, ordered a retreat.

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Pioneer Life in Ashtabula County   555

The British had formed a line across the road, and in

order to escape, our line was broken and the men took

to the woods on each side of the enemy's line, and every

man of them ran for himself. Mr. Rich, who was mak-

ing his way through the woods, felt a bruise and thought

he had struck his knee against a stump. Although the

hurt caused him much pain he was able to walk back

four miles to the camp. The wound was so painful that

the surgeon examined it and found that in the skirmish

or retreat he had been struck with a musket ball just

above the knee pan. This wound made him lame for

life. The result of the foray was two killed and five or

six wounded.

This wound did not lessen his ardor or cool his pa-

triotism, for in September, 1814, when he heard the

Americans were in danger at Plattsburg, he shouldered

his musket and tramped the intervening sixty miles in

three days, and arrived just in time to see the British

retreating and the Stars and Stripes waving in triumph.

He then wearily retraced his steps to his home and that

ended his military career.

On the 26th of January, 1833, Mr. Rich, with his

wife and two sons, started for the "Ohio Country,"

which was then considered in the far West. It was a

romantic episode, and required both moral and physical

courage in the father and mother to undertake it. There

were no swift-moving, comfortable cars to transport the

movers in those days. Nothing but slow and tedious

travel by sled or wagon, drawn by horses or oxen. In

this case the family started on a sled, through the snow,

for their long journey. The cash in hand was just $30,

which was the entire amount of Mr. Rich's riches, aside

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from his wife, boys and a few household goods. When

they reached Big Sodus Bay, New York, the snow gave

out and the sled was traded for a wagon, the difference

in the supposed values was a gun and a small amount of

money.

The journey was continued and in due time they

arrived in Monroe Township, Ashtabula County. Here

they tarried for the summer and raised a crop of corn.

After the crop was in, Mr. Rich and his oldest son,

Horatio G., went to Painesville to cut wood, leaving

George W., then about thirteen, at home to do the farm-

ing. In the fall Mr. Rich moved into the woods in

Pierpont Township and built a log cabin. By spring

they had cleared off several acres, which was planted in

corn. After living in Pierpont Township about two

years, Mr. Rich sold his place and bought 100 acres in

Trumbull Township, south of the Center -- agreeing to

pay $400 for it.

This was in 1836. The township was almost a solid

forest -- indeed you could travel for miles in some dis-

tricts without seeing a house or clearing.

During the fall Mr. Rich had built a cabin on his

purchase.  In early winter he moved from Pierpont

Township to his new home, arriving in Trumbull Town-

ship in the evening. He had sent his two sons on to the

cabin, telling them that they must follow the trail; that

if they left it to the right or left they would only find a

dense forest, and that to leave the trail meant to lie in

the woods all night.

Among other characteristics possessed by Mr. Rich,

and he had several eccentricities, one was that if he set

out to do a certain job, which he thought ought to be

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Pioneer Life in Ashtabula County   557

done in one day, there was nothing to be done but finish

that job. On this day he set out with the determination

to reach his cabin that night. He arrived at East Trum-

bull in the evening and was at the end of any visible

road. There was about an inch of snow on the ground,

and it was three miles to the cabin. At last Seymour

Brown volunteered to carry the few household goods

and Mrs. Rich to their wilderness home. They were

soon loaded upon an ox sled, for a wagon could not be

taken through the woods and they began their tedious

night ride. Taking the trail up the north bank of Trum-

bull Creek, Mr. Rich went ahead and cut down small

trees and brush which stood in the way. After a most

laborious journey of five or six hours, at one o'clock in

the morning, they saw a light ahead, in the cabin, where

the boys had a rousing big fire.

What a scene presented itself to that weary family

on their awakening in their forest home. The almost

impenetrable forest on every side; the ground covered

with snow; not a single comfort, now to be found in

every home, with the exception of a fire. What resolute

hearts it must have required not to break down under

such surroundings. But the man who came to conquer

the forest and hew out of its depths a home for himself

and family was equal to the task. Without a horse or

ox, he and his boys set to work, and with their strength

and willing hands and sharp axes, they chopped down

the trees and cleared them from twelve acres of land.

Then without a plow, for even if they had possessed a

plow, it could not have been used among the stumps, they

hoed the ground over and put in wheat and corn, which

yielded bountiful crops.

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The ground selected was quite rolling, and taking

advantage of the hillsides, Mr. Rich and his two boys

were able to clear off a large amount without either

horse or ox. The logs were rolled into piles and there

burned. The ashes were scraped up, leached, and the

lye, thus obtained, boiled down to black salts and sent

by wagon to Pittsburg. Black salts was about the only

article which always brought cash, and the cash was

necessary to pay taxes and to pay for the land.

It was all hard work in those days. Men, women

and children were mostly in the open air and were

healthy -- indeed, even when they were in the house,

there was no lack of fresh air, for besides the great

chimney at the end of the cabin there were plenty of

air holes under the door, between the logs and under

the eaves of the house and divers places. There was no

lack of ventilation.

It was pretty much all work and little play. Holi-

days were few and far between. Christmas was not

then the social day it is now. New Years was rather

more of a holiday. Easter was not observed. There

was no Memorial Sunday, no Decoration Day. Fourth

of July was made more of in proportion to the inhab-

itants than it is now -- it was nearer its source.

Thanksgiving was not generally observed nor pro-

claimed, as now, by the governor.

But with all these omissions there were many social

gatherings. The young people attended raisings, husk-

ings, logging bees, quiltings, etc., and the older ones

made social visits for the afternoon, staying to supper

and spending the evening. Sometimes there would be

a grand hunt. Two hunters would "choose sides," and

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Pioneer Life in Ashtabula County   559

all the good hunters for miles around would gather on

a given day, scour the woods and return at night with

the trophies of the chase in the form of deer, wild tur-

keys, scalps of squirrels, etc. The losing side paid for

the supper. These gatherings lightened the humdrum

life of the pioneer and his family. Then during the

winter, the long evenings would be made short by spell-

ing matches, singing schools or debating societies.

Thus the winters would pass. Sometimes the father

or an older brother in the family would start in the fall

and walk to his old home in Connecticut or Massachu-

setts, or one of the other Eastern States -- but these

pilgrimages were not frequent, for although the abso-

lute cash outlay was comparatively little, even that little

was very hard to get and was needed for taxes or pay-

ment on the land.

The wants of the people were few and mostly sup-

plied from the woods or fields. The housewife of these

better days has but small conception of what straits her

mother of sixty or seventy-five years ago was put to in

the way of cooking for the family. All cooking was

done on the open fire; the bread was baked in a deep

iron spider -- called a Dutch oven -- or an iron kettle,

set in front of the fire and heaped with hot coals from

the burning fire. There was no compressed yeast, bak-

ing powder or anything of that kind, and the bread was

salt-rising, milk rising, or home made yeast. Sometimes,

in order to make biscuits, corn-cobs would be burned in

a kettle and the ash used the same as saleratus, a great

quantity being required.

The first apple-trees planted on Jonathan Rich's

farm were started from the seed in a box, planted by

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his son, George, who watched their growth until they

were large enough to be transplanted and then they had

to be guarded against the cattle, rabbits and other dan-

gers -- all going to show the slow and patient ways

which had to be followed by the pioneer. One of the

pathetic features, which marks these early trials, are

the old apple-trees still standing, the only monuments to

mark the forest home, long after the hands which

planted them have been laid across the breast of the boy-

man in his everlasting sleep.

Jonathan Rich was soon well known. His sterling

character and somewhat eccentric manner marked him

as more than the ordinary man. He was absolutely hon-

est. His word was his note, for he would give no other.

If he owed a man money, grain or labor, it would be paid

to the last cent or grain. If he borrowed grain or meat,

as was often done, he always returned more than he

received -- it was said that his measures were always

heaped and his pounds weighed seventeen ounces. In

those days when a farmer killed a beef, sheep, or hog, it

was the rule to send a piece to the neighbors. Uncle

"Jock" rigidly followed this neighborly rule, but it was

a noticeable fact that the large pieces went to families

who were in poor circumstances and generally where

there was small prospect of a return of the compliment.

After living a number of years on the farm first

settled upon in Trumbull Township, he bought fifty acres

just west of the Center, and began again to clear a farm

from the woods. While constructing the house on this

farm he went to Fairport for lime. On his return he

was thrown from his wagon, and so injured that he died

shortly afterwards. Thus ends the life of one of "Na-

ture's Noblemen." He was a man who valued truth

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Pioneer Life in Ashtabula County   561

above all else. If he made a statement, it was to be relied

upon in the fullest sense, and he was equally honest in

all respects -- but that goes without saying, for a truth-

ful man is always honest.

His sons, Horatio G. and George W., were, while

differing from their father in many respects, worthy

examples of men grown up under good influences al-

though surrounded with few of the privileges now en-

joyed by almost everyone in the country.

Horatio, in his later youth and early manhood,

taught school during the winter. When married he be-

gan farming and, being of a business turn, soon added

acre to acre until he had a big farm. In 1855, he entered

into the mercantile business and was quite successful,

having excellent stores both in Trumbull and Montville,

and did the largest country trade of any merchant in

either Ashtabula or Geauga County. During the twenty

years he was in the mercantile business he was town-

ship clerk or township treasurer most of the time. He

was postmaster at Trumbull Center from February 22,

1855 to January 19, 1857, and from May 19, 1862 to

September 27, 1875. He was born at Fort Covington,

New York, January 6, 1819, and died in Trumbull, Feb-

ruary 14, 1889.

George W. Rich, the second son, was born at Fort

Covington, New York, April 29, 1821, and before he

was of age, established the first store in Trumbull

Township, Ashtabula County, and was postmaster from

August 4, 1848 to January 3, 1854. While he was post-

master, Platt R. Spencer, the author of the world-

renowned "Spencerian Penmanship," was a county tax

collector, and when in Trumbull would stop with

Vol. XXXVI--36.

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Mr. Rich. By way of pastime while there, he would

make out way-bills which always accompanied the let-

ters, and would also write the wrappers in which the

packages of letters were tied up. The display of his

wonderful art in chirography attracted attention in all

the offices through which they passed.

In the earlier days of his business, Mr. Rich bought

all of his goods in Cleveland, which is fifty miles to the

west of Trumbull. There being no railroad at that time,

his plan was to take a couple of teams and load them

with cheese, maple sugar and other articles taken in ex-

change for goods, and drive to Cleveland, and then sell

his products or exchange them for groceries, dry goods,

nails, glass and such commodities as his trade de-

manded.

In 1853, he sold his store, resigned as postmaster,

and bought a fifty-acre farm just east of the Center,

began dairying, and added to this farm until the

business was too big to be done at home by the family.

He then, in company with his brother, Horatio G., and

A. M. Proctor, Azro Sinkler, A. H. Dodge, James Mas-

singham, Frank Cook and Ansel Woodruff, built the

first cheese factory in that part of Ohio. For many

years he was the salesman and treasurer for the factory.

In 1880, he sold his farm and moved to the Center

where he resided until his death, which took place in

Trumbull, July 8, 1889. The two sons are buried by the

side of their father in the country cemetery not far from

where they spent almost the whole of their useful lives.

Over the grave of George is erected a Quincy granite

monument -- the exact counterpart of that on the grave

of the late Senator B. F. Wade, in the village cemetery

at Jefferson.

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