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cabin some two miles east of the present town of Berry ville, on the farm known as the old Murphin place.

Early in the month of March, 1806, James Fitzpatrick moved up from Ohillicothe to this county and settled on a farm about three and a half miles southeast of Hillsborough. He had purchased the land of Henry Massie and selected that locality on account of its promise ot health.

The previous October he arrived with his wife and a large family, principally grown, at Chillicothe from Monroe county, Virginia. His old home was on a small stream called Indian Creek, a tributary of New River. In this wild region he reared his family and spent the greater part of his life, for his was an old man—upwards of sixty when he determined to gratify the inclination of his children by seeking a new home on the rich lands of the Scioto Valley.

Preparations for the departure of the family were commenced early in the summer, for it was to them the first great incident of their lives—breaking up old associations, abandoning an old home, endeared to each member of the large family by many peculiar charms which all know and appreciate, and setting out on a long journey into a new and unknown land.'

The arrangements were at length completed, and the day of departure arrived. Most of the neighborhood spent the previous evening with them. They were all good old-fashioned Methodists—wearing the simple religious costume of the early days of that Christian denomination—and their immediate friends were of the same persuasion. The evening was spent in singing and prayer. In the morning the entire neighborhood was early assembled to take leave of the Fitzpatrick's and witness their departure. It was a most solemn scene.

Nine pack horses were ladened with the property which was deemed necessary to be taken to the new country. These were started on the road in a line one after the other, the foremost led by one of the sons. In the rear of these came the cattle, with bells on their necks, among which mingled the other stock. Next in the procession came the family, on foot, all except the mother, who rode on horseback. The three men carried rifles on the shoulders, and the six girls, nearly all young women, assisted to drive the stock. In the rear followed the dogs of the family. Many of the young neighbor boys and girls accompanied them to the first

night's encampment and remained with them until morning.

The day of their departure was among the first of early autumn. The first frost of the season had left his foot marks on the tenderest of summer's foliage, which gave to the distant mountain sides an appearance more subdued than that of summer, yet less grand than when, a few weeks later, they donned the full livery of the season. But the late flowers of the valley were yet spared, and except the slight sharpness of the morning air, and the occasional fall of a yellow leaf in the path, little of the sadness of decay was visible to the train of emigrants as they bade adieu to the long familiar land marks of Indian Creek, and slowly wound their way down the valley to the northward.

To the large number of relatives and friends who stood about the gate until the last of the departing company had disappeared behind a projecting spur of the mountain, gazing with moistened eyes for the last time, as they doubted not, on their much loved friends— listening to the peculiarly sad and sorrowful tones of the bells on the stock, as their slow and measured tone gradually grew more and more faint and indistinct, until they were entirely lost to the ear, although the listeners kept the most profound silence in hopes to catch another farewell tone—to these good friends left behind the scene was indescribably melancholy, and utterly beyond the comprehension or appreciation of those who never witnessed 'd similar departure of emigrants for the far West.

The "movers" were about six weeks on the road. Nothing, however, occurred worthy of special note. They arrived at their destination all well, and less fatigued than one of the present day would suppose, for though the girls walked every foot of the way the travel was not so rapid as to be greatly fatiguing after they become used to it, which only required a few days. The weather continued, with a few exceptions of rainy days, very pleasant, and the novelty which the river, forest and occasional new farm, constantly presented—the deepening tinge of autumn on the leaves; their almost ceaseless falling around them, exposing the rich clusters of grapes or nuts—the encampment in the brown old woods at night, and the bustle and preparation for starting in the morning, afforded almost constant employment for their thoughts, So that the entire journey, lonely and cheerless though it may appear to the reader, was far from it. Some one of the men, acting as hunter, rarely failed to supply their encampment with a fat buck or turkey—sometimes a bear. After broiling a rich supper from the choice parts of the carcass, an old-fashioned heart-felt hymn was chanted and a prayer was offered by the venerable sire. They all then retired to. rest, with full confidence in the protecting hand and watchful eye of the Great rather.

Chillicothe and the surrounding country were pretty well improved at this date, and the Fitzpatricks were very much pleased with what they considered their new home. They, however, deferred purchasing land until spring. But shortly after their arrival, the charm of the Scioto country was broken. Extending their acquaintance somewhat, they discovered that more than half the people in the bottoms were just recovering from the fever and ague. On inquiry, they found that this scourge was of annual occurrence. This intelligence was to them, who had hardly ever heard of sickness of any kind in their lives, startling. They speedily resolved not to remain there longer than early spring, and many of the families were anxious to retrace their steps to their old home among the mountains of Virginia. But Henry Massie hearing of their troubles, went to them and told them that he had good uplands in Highland, where he would warrant them against fever and ague. So Robert Fitzpatrick went to look at the lands described by Massie, and selected the tract on which his father and family settled the following March.

They built their cabin within twenty yards of where the Furnace road now passes, near a most superb spring of water. A small "clearing" was made in good season for planting corn. Every thing went on well. The family enjoyed good health, and were pleased with their new home, which they soon made entirely comfortable. During the summer, they put up one of those old fashioned, neat and pretty log cabins, which were Once tolerably common in this county, and which mark the first stage between the primitive "rough log cabin" of song and the hewed log house ot a later dat«. Tt, was a story and a half high, logs (.mull and hewed on two sides, closely clucked and tightly daubed on the on'side with yellow clay. The chimney was "cat and clay," i. e. straw mixed 'p in well worked clay—stone hearth and fire place; neatly hewn puncheon floor;

joists of peeled hickory or poplar poles, covered with heavy boards. The doors were neat, and there were two small glass windows. There was but one room, but the old cabin made a good kitchen. In this, two nice large beds, with snow white, home made, seven hundred flax linen sheets, pillow cases, &c. The bed clothing was also all home made, and of the most tasteful and serviceable style. Near one of the windows on a small stand lay the old buckskin covered bible and hymn book. The chairs were old fashioned split bottomed, without paint, but scoured white as snow, and indeed every thing inside betokened great industry, skill and taste. It was a beauty of a cabin, and in it reigned peace, harmony and love. The inmates were true Christians. Each one strove to avoid any delinquency in duty. From morning till night the hum of the wheel and the clang of the loom were heard, whilst the men folks were engaged in the outdoor work. The father had provided himself with a quantity of choice peach seeds from his old orchard in Virginia, and his first care was to plant them. His skill as a woodsman enabled him soon to obtain a supply of bees from the woods, which were early domesticated. They had plenty of fine cows, and having built 'd pretty little cabin milk-house, at the cool, rocky spring, they were able before fall to set the nicest hard, fresh butter on the table with their johnnycake, chestnut coffee and fried venison, that man ever delighted his palate with.

Early in the autumn of 1805, the first regular Methodist meeting ever held in the county of Highland, was held at Fitzpatrick's. Peter Cartwright and James Quinn were the regular circuit preachers, and William Burk was presiding elder. The circuit was called the Scioto circuit, and embraced pretty much the whole extent of territory west of that river and east ot the Little Miami. Mr. Quinn had thirty-one appointments to fill every four weeks. He and Cartwright wore buckskin breeches whilst on this circuit. "Quinn was the first preacher who ever came to our house," says a member of the family; "he came wandering along through the woods from George Richards', hunting our house, late one afternoon. We had nothing but a little bench for a table, but we got him some supper—the best we had—and he appeared satisfied and quite at home in our little rough cabin. He remained all night, and sat up late talking and prayingiwith'us. The nextjmorning he left, having made an appointment to preach for us in two weeks.'' And from that time forward for the period of twenty-one years, Fitzpatrick's continued to be a regular place of circuit preaching and quarterly' meetings. It was a favorite stopping place for the preachers at this time. Perhaps no place at that day in Ohio, could present so many attractionsjtojthe truehearted and self-sacrificingjpioneer Methodist "circuit rider," as the hospitable and unpretending home of the Fitzpatricks.

In the first settlement of the county there does not seem to have been any Methodists, but speedily after a permanent preaching place was established, a congregation was rapidly built up. People came for many miles to attend preaching there, and it was thenceforth the headquarters of Methodism, as well as the center of Christian example.

Allong list of the pioneer preachers, who made this house their occasional home for one or two-years, might be given. Quinn, Cartwright, Trader Havens, Collins, etc. But they are all gone, and those better qualified than us have long since recorded their virtues and sufferings. Some, after a pleasant year among the hills of Highland; the idol of the brothers and sisters of the simple hearted and sincere Christians of the Rocky Fork church, were sent by the Bishop, Asbury, Whatcoat or McKendree. as missionaries to Mississippi, and died in want and suffering among the savages they hoped to save. Others were transferred to distant conferences, and in the new field of usefulness made new friends, and were no more heard of by their humble friends here, while some^still remained laboring in their chosen vocation, till they filled the measure of their years, became the patriarchs of the Highland church, and then meekly passed away to receive their reward.

Peter Light, when assisting as State Commissioner to fix the seat of justice for Highland county, made his home at Fitzpatrick's during his stay. And in 1811 or '12 when Simon Kenton was last in this county he stayed several nights with them.

James Fitzpatrick was a soldier of the Revolution, having entered the army in 1778. He served for some time as a spy, but "we regret our inability to find any portion of his history, either while in the army of the Revolution or the frontier service against the Indians. Like most of those old worthies whodid good service to their country

in the ranks, his toil, suffering and heroism have been lost sight of by the historian, and tradition has failed to hand them down. He was, however, with Lewis at the bloody battle of the "Point," and, being an excellent woodsman and hunter, was generally among those who were known as Indian fighters after the close of the Revolution up to the peace of '95. He was a harmless, quiet, peace-loving, honest, simple- hearted old man, devout and sincere in his religion, true in his friendships, and faithful to his country. He was a great hunter and killed many deer, bear and wolves in Highland. Like most of the pioneers he continued to dress partly in deer skin. As a hunter, skilled and successful, this material was readily obtained and he was an accomplished hand at dressing and preparing skins for apparel. He always wore buckskin moccasins of his own manufacture, preferring them to shoes. In the course of a few years he had the best peach orchard in the country. His bees also throve, and he had great abundance of honey. He understood making a favorite drink in the early days of the West, called Metheglin, which was made of honey chiefly and was superior in many respects to any of the present day." His fields of wheat, rye and corn yielded an abundant supply for home consumption— there was no market in those days and of course no one thought of raising a surplus of anything. Thus for many years did this good old man and his worthy family live. But in the course of time, his life drew to a peaceful and happy close. He and his worthy wife, Mary, died near the same time and were the first buried in the family grave yard on the highest point of the hill west of his home on his own farm. This grave yard was a lonely and out of the way place, where

"Two low green hillocki, two small gray

stones, Koso over the place that held their bones; But the grassy hillocks are leveled again, And the keenest eye might search in vain, 'Mong briers, and terns, and paths of sheep, For the spot where the aged couple sleep.

"Yet well might they lay beneath the soil

Of this lonely spot, that man of toil,

And trench the strong hard mould with the

spade, ■ ■ •

Where never before a grave was made* ;- .;
For he hewed the dark old woods away,
And gave the virgin fields to the day; . . -
And the gourd and the bean beside his door,
Bloomed where their fbwers never opened be-
And the maize stood up, and the breaded rye
Bent low in the breath of an unknown "r''

It is a subject of regret that most of the old burying grounds which hold the bones of so many of the pioneers should be found in neglect and comparative ruins. They sleep none the less quietly for that, but it should not be so, and at no distant day the people of the West will become aware of it.

Robert Fitzpatrick, one of the sons of old James, spent his life near the old homestead—was a most worthy and respected man—was out in the Mexican war—was a devoted Methodist and esteemed a true citizen. The other two sons we are not in the possession of the history of.

This interesting pioneer family is all gone and none of them have for many years resided on the old homestead. Their early home in Highland—the meeting place of the Methodist Church and the head quarters of the circuit preachers for so many years—that sweet looking, pleasantly situated log house, with its surrounding of peach trees, plums, bee hivesand blue grass sward—its cool spring, by which always hung the clean gourd—is gone and with it all that made it sweet and dear, except the spring—houses, peach orchard, bee hives—all. The entire ground is now a field or pasture and none of the young generation would ever suspect the appliances of civilization which had once graced it.

In. the autumn of 1806 Matthew Creed, another Revolutionary soldier, who 'fought at King's Mountain and "the Point," was a great hunter and an Indian spy during the troublous times of Western Virginia, came, with his large and chiefly grown family, from Monroe county, Virginia, and bought out Terry Templin and settled within half a mile of his brother-in-law, James Fitzpatrick. They both had lived close ■ neighbors in Virginia. Creed and his family were also members of the Methodist Church and aided much in advancing its interest in the county.

The great difficulty which all the early settlers had to encounter—want of mills—was overcome in this neighborhood in a year or two. Creed erected a horse mill, which was resorted to by distant settlers. Before the building of this mill, Fitzpatricks and their neighbors were obliged to carry their grain to Porter's horse mill beyond New Market. Creed's mill stood for near twenty years and was extremely useful. At an early day it was no uncommon thing to see half a dozen persons at a time setting by a log fire out of doors, late in the fall, their

teams with the gears on hitched close by, cracking jokes and patiently waiting their turn to grind, for at a horse mill, which is propelled by hitching horses to a sweep which turns round and thus works the machinery, each man had to take the motive power with him and wait till his turn came in. It was no uncommon thing for men from ten or twelve miles distance to have to wait three or four days in a throng time before their turn came. But those days are past and the boys of the present time have no conception of the trouble their fathers had when boys to get the meal for a dodger. But the mill boys of those days, in their thin half worn linsey roundabouts and pants, without shoes, and often bare headed, enjoyed themselves much* when they were not too hungry and could find a place to parch corn. They were healthy and did not mind cold and the privations incident to the times.

The first wheat ground on the upper Rocky Fork was ground at-Creed's horse mill. He was not prepared for bolting the flour, but he went to Chillicothe and got enough bolting cloth to cover an ordinary sieve and fastened it on the hoop of one. When any one took wheat to the mill one of the girls or his wife had to go along and sift the flour. The name at that day for this substitute for a bolt was a ■"sarch.'' Esther Fitzpatrick says many a day she has stood at the mill sifting the bran out of the flour as it was ground. This kind of flour she says made most excellent bread and was first rate to lighten. When it is recollected that the wheat thus converted into eatable flour, had to be reaped with a sickle, thrashed on the ground with a flail and winnowed by means of a sheet swung by two stout persons, it is not a subject of surprise that the sifted flour made good tasting bread at least to those who produced it with so much labor.

Although game was abundant at this date and old Mr. Creed a good hunter, yet he did not take time to indulge as much as many others. He built a turkey pen near the house, in which he caught a large number of turkeys. They were thus taken until the family became tired of them, when the old man would then turn them out to see them run.

A turkey pen is thus described by one who has seen them, A pen is built at a suitable place of light fence rails, commencing at the base a square about the size the rails will make and narit so deep that a turkey may walk in easily. Corn is then strewn pretty freely in the trench and over the bottom of the pen. The turkeys commence picking up the corn some distance perhaps from the pen and follow up the bait in the ditch, until they unconsciously enter the pen. After they

rowing in each round to the top, which have gathered up all the corn of course is secured. A trench is then cut into they want to go and, as is their nature,

instead of looking down to the ditch by which they entered, they constantly persist in looking up for a place to get out. They thus await the pleasure of the owner of the pen. Not infrequently whole flocks of twenty or thirty were thus taken.



The same spring that Fitzpatrick moved up from Chillicothe Fredrick Fraley moved with his family from Pee Pee bottom and settled on the farm afterwards owned and occupied by Adam Miller, about four miles southeast of Hillsborough. His eldest son, John, had come up the year before and purchased the farm and made some improvement.

Mr. Fraley moved from Pennsylvania, on the banks of the Susquehana, a few years before to the (Scioto. He was a blacksmith and started a shop almost immediately on his arrival in Highland, having brought his smith tools with him from Pennsylvania. This was the first shop of the kind established on 'the waters of the Rocky Fork, except a little thing set up by Llewellyn a few years before. It was not even an apology though, as he knew little or nothing about the business and could only tinker a little with hot iron. Fraley was a good workman and made everything in his line the country needed. He made a great many chopping axes, for the excellency of" which he acquired quite a reputation. He also made mattocks, hoes, &c. He was esteemed a very industrious and honest man. The Fraleys were all Methodists and the father was much esteemed as an exhorter and leader of his class. He died in 1825 or '6 at the age

of eighty-four. He had some eccentricities or rather peculiarities of manner, but with all his bluntness was regarded by all as a good man to the day of his death.

Jeremiah Smith and Matthew Creed, jr., came out from Monroe county, Virginia, as early as 1804. They made a crop for Hugh Evans and worked where they could get work to do. Shortly after the Fitzpatricks came Smith married Sally and settled down in the neighborhood of his father-inlaw.

The first coffin ever made on the Rocky Fork, that we have any information of, was that made for the corpse of George Weaver in the winter of 1806. Jeremiah Smith was the undertaker, being a pretty good carpenter and cabinet maker, but owing to the fact that there were no saw mills yet established in the county he had "no plank, nor could he get any. So he was obliged to split the lumber out of a walnut log. In dressing up this material Esther and Nancy Fitzpatrick, in the spirit characteristic of the pioneer girls, assisted him. They worked nearly all night at it in order to have it ready by the hour appointed for the burial.

In the spring of 1806 Jo Hart, with his family, consisting of two grown sons, two daughters and his wife, came

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