A Look Back at Bee Tree Creek

Samuel Paris McKinney (1822-1898)


The following story is about my wife Shirley's great-great-great grandfather. This story has been handed down for several generations, and was shared with me. Now I am sharing it with you.

Samuel Paris McKinney was born in 1822, and he lived most of his life in the rugged, wild mountains of Wyoming County, West Virginia. He received a land grant on Barker's Ridge where he made his home, but more often than not, could be found near his favorite hunting spot on Bee Tree Creek (which borders present day Wyoming and Raleigh counties). In Samuel Paris' days, there weren't many people in the Bee Tree Creek area and the hunting was excellent, perhaps even the best in the region. It was also considered so wild of an area that many men avoided it. People told tales of ferocious animals, evil spirits and even wild Indian hold-outs when speaking of the area. The tales grew even more frightening when they spoke of the great laurel thicket, a defining feature of the area. Samuel Paris liked it when he heard these stories; to him as long as people were afraid of the area it would remain wild and free of settlement. Taking advantage of the situation, he was often alone when he hunted, trapped and spent a great deal of time along Bee Tree Creek even though his official home was on Barker's Ridge, several miles away.

When Samuel Paris hunted, he carried with him a pack bag typical of men of the time. By his side was a mountain rifle and a tomahawk. His rifle was so long that many men found it nearly impossible to hold because the barrel was so long. There were newer rifles available to him, but his daddy had given him his rifle and it was a good rifle so he saw no need to "upgrade". He was known to be quite fearless in his exploits, taking chances that many deemed unnecessary but to him they were just everyday actions of living. Samuel Paris was known throughout the region as one of the first to raise hunting dogs, and his dogs were considered to be among the best bred and most well-trained in the region. Men would come from miles around to trade or buy a pup off of him, and it soon came to pass that having a good hunting dog by your side was essential to every hunting man in the area.

One time over on Bee Tree Creek, Samuel Paris had his favorite dog with him, and it wasn't too long until the dog picked up the trail of a great bear. When the bear realized it was being trailed, it broke into a full run right into the great laurel thicket. He had trained his dogs never to go into a laurel thicket after a bear because more often than not that action was a death sentence on the dog and quite often the man, too. But this time and against all its training, his favorite dog found a low trail and went into the laurel thicket after the bear.

Since this was his favorite dog, Samuel Paris saw no other option besides to go in after the dog. If it hadn't been his favorite dog, he probably would have just made camp and hoped the dog returned out of the thicket, but he just couldn't wait and hope when it came to his favorite dog. So against his better judgement he entered the laurel thicket after the dog. He planned on just retrieving the dog and getting out as quickly as possible, and his decision was justified after he entered the thicket. The laurel grew so thick that he was forced to crawl in many places, and seldom was there an area where a man could even stand upright. He was about a hundred yards into the laurel thicket when he located the dog, but soon realized that simply retrieving it wasn't an option. You see, the great bear had the dog penned up in a corner between two vertical cliffs on Bee Tree Creek, and was slowly closing in on it.

At this point, Samuel Paris was crawling along through the thicket as quickly as he could manage, trying to get to an open area where he could raise his gun. As it was, there was no chance of getting off a shot at the bear since he was practically dragging the rifle alongside of his body. He finally made his way into Bee Tree Creek, where the flowing water offered a slight opening in the laurel. But as he raised his rifle to shoot the bear, the bear had moved in so close to the trapped dog that it was impossible to get a shot at it for fear of hitting the dog.

Quick thinking coupled with the inherent and passionate bravery of a mountain Scotsman, Samuel Paris McKinney instantly came upon a plan. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled out the tomahawk from his belt, ran up to the bear and grabbed the great beast by the hair on the nape of its neck, quickly and deftly swung the tomahawk once and split the bear's skull wide open, killing it instantly. For years afterward, stories were recounted about how Samuel Paris McKinney had killed a bear with only a tomahawk and in the process had saved his favorite hunting dog, all without getting so much as a single scratch on him.

In the years following this account, progress inevitably took its toll upon the region, and the great laurel thicket was cut down and the area along Bee Tree Creek was settled. Later, coal mines dotted the landscape. As the area grew in population, Samuel Paris began to stay on his land high up on Barker's Ridge, and in his last days raised and sold hunting dogs to make a living. Men would come from miles around to buy his dogs and hear him regale his tales of yesteryear. The time of the rugged mountaineer had come to an end and those times were now found only in story form. And oh what great stories Samuel Paris McKinney told.

Camp Chase

Today finds me thinking about my gr-gr-gr-gr-grandfather, Joseph Lantz, and the horrors he must have witnessed and was subjected to while in the Confederate Service. He was a Captain in the North Fork Militia,and was in active during the Battle of Riverton.





The Battle of Riverton site.

Captured near the end of the War Between the States (or as some of us were brought up hearing, "The War of Northern Aggression") my grandfather was held prisoner in Camp Chase Prison in Ohio. What pure hell this must have been for him and his companions. Camp Chase Prison was opened in May 1861 and remained open throughout the War. It was located about 4 miles from Columbus, Ohio. The prison held a large population of men from the mountains of West Virginia. For these men, their world must have been turned upside down. Not only were they prisoners, but they were prisoners in a foreign land. To these men of the rugged mountains, I’m sure Camp Chase was like a foreign country. Even today, when I am out of my mountains, I feel a great unease and get the feeling that if only I could get back into the mountains, then all would be right with the world. How these men must have gazed and wished for the mountains that they knew lay far to the East.



My gr-gr-gr-gr-grandfather, Joseph Lantz.

Growing up, I heard stories from the older folks about the living conditions at Camp Chase Prison. Of course, they had heard these stories from their elders, and theirs before them. A few former prisoners from Pendleton County described Camp Chase prison as a big mud hole. They said the water was dirty and the food was wormy. They told of how the men would sit around and tell stories of home and what they were going to go when the War was over. I recall hearing a story about how one man in Camp Chase prison had made a pet out of a big rat, and one time the rations were so scarce that a bunch of his cohorts killed the rat and made soup out of it.

One of the best Camp Chase prison recollections, to me, was recorded by the Hammons Family titled, “Camp Chase”. At the beginning of the track, Burl Hammons talks about stories that he grew up hearing about Camp Chase. He talked of how the men were mistreated at the Yankee prison and how the prisoners simply wanted to go home, so much so that it consumed them. The story continues with how the Yankee captain liked fiddle music and told his Confederate captives whichever man played him the best fiddle tune, he would set that man free. If this is a true story, can you imagine how much heart and soul went into this fiddle contest, these men would have been playing for their very lives. As the contest progressed, one man played a tune that absolutely floored the Yankee captain, because it was just that good. For all the people who like fiddle music, they know how the fiddle puts lyrics right into the tune and that the tune tells the story. Well, after the contest, the Yankee captain lived up to his word and gave the man his freedom, but before the man left the captain asked, “What was the name of that fiddle tune?” to which the man replied, “It’s a tune that I came up with, and the name of it is “Camp Chase!” I don’t know of the Hammons story is true, but I do know that I can’t listen to the tune, “Camp Chase” without hearing the suffering of the prisoners, and hearing the hopes of freedom and home that these men held so dear. I can sympathize with these men who longed for the mountains for Camp Chase would have been both a physical and mental Hell for them.

I’m sure my grandfather tried for the rest of his life to forget Camp Chase, but at least he got to return home to his beloved Germany Valley after the War. So many prisoners died at Camp Chase and are buried there.



Camp Chase Cemetery. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

Here's a Youtube video of Betty Vornbrock doing a great version of "Camp Chase".

Guardian Angels

Today I'd thought I'd post the lyrics to one of my favorite songs, "Guardian Angels", and include some of my old family photo's to go along with the lyrics.

Guardian Angels
Written by Naomi Judd, John Jarvis & Donald Schlitz Jr.

A hundred year old photograph
Stares out from a frame
And if you look real close you'll see
Our eyes are just the same,

My great-great grandparents Charley & Jennie (Cunningham) Burns & their son, my gr-granddaddy Don.

I never met them face to face
But I still know them well,
From the stories my dear grandma tells.


My great-grandparents, Don & Mary (Kile) Burns.

Elijah was a farmer.
He knew how to make things grow.
And Fannie vowed she'd follow him
Wherever he would go.


My gr-gr-gr-grandparents, George & Phoebe Jane (Bennett) Cunningham

As things turned out they never left
Their small Kentucky farm.
But he kept her fed,
And she kept him warm.


My gr-gr-grandparents, Fon & Rosie (Nelson) Lawrence.

They're my guardian angels,
And I know they can see
Every step I take
They are watching over me
I might not know where I'm goin'
But I'm sure where I come from.
They're my guardian angels
And I'm their special one.


My grandparents, Richard H. & Virginia (Thompson) Burns.

Sometimes when I'm tired
I feel Elijah take my arm
He says, "keep a-goin, hard work
never did a body harm."
And when I'm really troubled
And I dont know what to do
Fannie whispers, "Just do your best,
were awful proud of you".


My gr-gr-gr-grandparents, Anderson & Dianna (Lantz) Lawrence.

They're my guardian angels
And I know they can see
Every step I take
They are watching over me
I might not know where I'm goin'
But I'm sure of where I come from
They're my guardian angels
And I'm their special one.


My gr-gr-gr-grandmother, Phoebe Jane Cunningham.

A hundred year old photograph
Stares out from a frame
And if you look real close you'll see
Our eyes are just the same.


My gr-gr-gr-gr-grandparents, Joseph & Catherine (Andrews) Lantz.

A Wish List?

Today I thought I'd post the appraisal bill for the estate of my 5th-great grandfather Joseph Bennett. For many of us, the items on this appraisal will read like a wish list. Do any of you see anything that you would like to have from this appraisal?

While these prices look good by today's standard, keep in mind that it would take approximately $18.06 in today's money to equal One dollar in 1810, according to Measuring Worth website.

Pendleton County Will Book 3, page 104
Praise Bill of Joseph Bennett Deceased Estate
August the 30th 1810

• Pewter and Tin Ware and ladles-$10.00
• One tea kettle, thirteen coolers and two buckets-$4.25
• Two ovens, one skillet, one watering pot, one flat iron, one pot, one box iron-$6.00
• One set fire dogs, two pot trammels on shovel and tongs and bellows-$4.00
• One pair Steely and four sifters-$2.50
• One Daepser-$2.50
• One pepper mill and Ten ware-$2.16
• One corner cupboard-$9.00
• Twenty four pounds woolen yarn-$10.00
• Two Spinning wheels and four spools-$2.00
• Two Tables-$2.75
• Eight Chairs-$2.00
• Fifteen forks and six knives two bones-$1.00
• One Looking Glass-$2.50
• Six Books-$1.66
• Two pieces Sole Leather and two of upper Leather-$4.00
• Two hackles, three boxes shoemakers tools and sawdries-$3.00
• Five planes, one window sash and Brimstone-$1.75
• One Bed and Bed Stead-$12.00
• One ditto-ditto-$13.00
• Ditto-ditto-$7.00
• One Trunk and Chest-$2.00
• One wool wheel and reel, two pair of wool cards-$2.00
• Two chairs and one basket-$0.50
• Seven Gums and two tubs-$2.00
• Loom and utensils belonging to it-$14.00
• One set smith tools, bucket and cooler-$30.00
• Three Grind Stones and hand mill-$4.50
• Three kettles and one oven and lid-$14.00
• Three Churns-$1.50
• Three Kegs-$1.00
• Three barrels and a tub and one can-$5.00
• One bucket and two pickling pots-$2.75
• One spinning wheel and spool-$1.50
• One frying pan-$1.25
• One pot, shovel and Jointer-$3.25
• Carpenter tools of different kinds-$8.00
• Two narrow axes, one broad axe, one iron wedge-$2.00
• One saddle and saddle bags, two half bushels, one drawing knife and one conch shell-$4.00
• One set of gears and three bridles and one curry comb-$6.50
• Two tubs, one grubbing hoe, two weeding hoes and one bell-$2.75
• One side saddle-$3.00
• One plough and singletrees, two pair plough irons, one coal rake and a sithe-$10.50
• Shovel plough, log chain and sled-$6.16
• One waggon and hay lathers-$40.00
• One iron tooth harrow-$4.75
• Ten bee stands-$9.00
• One Still and cap and worm-$80.00
• One Still and cap and worm and stove plate-$25.00
• Thirteen Still Tubs, three kegs and a barrel-$15.25
• Two pigons, one hammer and trowel-$0.75
• Apple Mill and Cider Press-$2.75
• One Wolf Trap-$3.50
• Sixteen head of hogs-$19.50
• Twenty two geese-$9.16
• Eleven head of sheep-$21.00
• One Sorrel Horse-$12.00
• One black colt with white feet-$10.00
• One brown two year old colt-$25.00
• One bay mare and colt-$40.00
• One old brown horse-$25.00
• Three heifers and two steers-$24.00
• Two calves with mottled faces-$3.00
• One Wind Mill-$16.67
• Three Cows-$34.00
• Two pied steers-$24.00
• Two pied cows-$19.00
• Four heifers, two black ones and two red & white ones-$23.50
• Two bottles, one wheat Riddle & one Sickle, three bags, one gum, one pair sheep shears-$4.00
• One hundred weight of broke flax, two sheep skins, one hog skin-$7.00
• Two Bells & Collars and Sun dial-$1.25

Total $724.01 (this would be $13,077.31 in todays money).

We assert this within praisement bill to be a true bill & Inventory of Joseph Bennett, deceased, Estate. August the 31st 1810
Signed. Johnson Phares, Henry Bland, Geo. Henkle
At a court held for Pendleton County the 4th day of September 1810 This Inventory and appraisement of the estate of Joseph Bennett. Dec, was returned to court and ordered to be recorded.Teste, L. Dyer C.P.C.
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So tell the truth, just how much of this stuff do you wish you had? I want it all!

Anderson's Lament

For my great-great-great Grandfather Anderson.

Anderson's Lament

A man of privilege born into a good family,
He had all of the makings of greatness.
His loving Dianna and the children all looked to him as a hero
And their expectations took him to stand for the Cause.
Four years he honorably served a nation destined for failure,
And with it his livelihood.

The thinly disguised looks of pity and disgust
Cut his soul to ribbons as childhood friends
Watched him open his land to sharecropping.
Better to starve with dignity, they said,
Than to do work that is beneath you.
They didn’t realize the old society was dead.
He was determined that his children would have better,
In this new world in which he had no place.

He signed it all legal with the attorneys that morning
Knowing full well that he was not strong enough
To stand idly by as the land was sold off, piece by piece.
Land that belonged to his father, and his father before him.
None of that mattered now; it was thoughts of his sweet Dianna
That filled his mind as the rope snapped taut
And the eternal darkness washed over him.

Thinking Outside of Box

Below is the news from back home, only it is from 1918. The community where I am from has went through several different names. The first name of the area was Buffalo Bottom, due to the abundance of woods bison in the area. Now the name would only apply to some of my Aunts (That was bad, I know). After the buffalo were extirpated it ddin't seem like Buffalo Bottom was such a good name so the area became known as North Fork Hills. Since that name was confusing because there were hills all over the North Fork Valley, the name progressed into the community of Box. People didn't like living in a Box so the area started being referred to as Bland Hills, but as Bland Hills became more populated, our end of Bland Hills became the community of Hopewell. A few years later, Hopewell was given the name of Monkeytown by my great-grandfather, Don Burns due to all of the children hanging out of the windows of the houses. It seems that the name Monkeytown stuck, at least for the past 80 years or so, and most people still know and refer it by that name. However, to add to the confusion we do get our mail in Riverton (7 miles away), vote in Circleville (8 miles away), and are listed in the county newspaper as Hopewell (though nobody calls our area Hopewell anymore). So, who knows exactly where I'm from, the only thing I am sure of is I didn't come here and I ain't leaving. My granddaddy used to say that.

The Pendleton Times
Friday, December 20, 1918

Box News

The health of this section is very good now.

The Hopewell school has begun with an enrollment of about thirty-five scholars. Mr. Biby is the teacher.

A.C. Thompson has moved to Osceola, a cold country.

C.J. Landis, the photo man, has quit farming and gone into the picture business again.

Miss. Mucie Burns has gone to the wild western country to teach school. We wish her a successful term.

Charlie Burns was hauling hay from W.D. Simmons’ one day last week.

Don Burns has purchased a horse of Erving Hinkle & Bros. He says he can go see his girl now.

News reached us that Virgil Hinkle while in Franklin Thursday was arrested because of failing to register on Sept. 12, and will be court-martialed at Parkersburg.

Don Bland has gone to the lumber camp to work for awhile.

Fred Lambert was a recent visitor at the home of Harness Teter at Osceola.

God hath made of one blood all nations of men, and we are his children, brothers and sisters all. We are citizens of the United States and we believe our flag stands for self-sacrifice for the good of all the people. We want therefore to be true citizens of our great country and will show our love for her by our works. Our country does not ask us to die for her welfare, she asks us to live for her, and so to live and so to act that her government may be pure her officers of her territory shall be a place fit to grow the best men and women who shall rule over her.—A Bland Hills wife

Thinking of the Past

Today has me thinking about my grandfather, Garvin Wallace. He was my mother’s father, and according to her, my brother and I were his pride and joy, but I don’t remember him. He died when I was around 2 years old. I do however, know stories of him, and it is these treasured stories that I’m going to share with you today.



My Grandfather Garvin Wallace.

My Wallace family story begins in Scotland, where they came from. There are tales that we are direct descendants of Scotland’s most famous son, William Wallace, the man who was popularized in the movie, “Braveheart”. While I have never been able to make a connection to “Braveheart” Wallace, William is a very popular name in the family, and was the name of my great-great-grandfather, but William is a very popular name, especially for true sons of Scotland, so I don’t know if this is really any kind of clue. Still, it is a matter of pride for my family. My first known Wallace ancestor was Professor Alexander Wallace who was a professor of Latin at Oxford University. It was Alexander who came to America around the time of the American Revolution, and his son Charles was born in Ohio in the early 1800’s. Many of the Wallace relatives had long been established in the South Branch Valley in what is now West Virginia, and it was these family ties that brought my Ohio Wallace’s to West Virginia.


Back to Charles Wallace, who was born in Ohio. Charles married a woman who is only remembered by the family as Grandmaw Susan. They lived in Fayette County, Ohio. Charles & Susan had a son, which they named William Wallace. It was this William Wallace who sometime in his early years, moved to present-day Hardy County, WV, to be near family, and it was in Hardy County that William married Catharine Miller and lived out their lives on their farm near Moorefield. William & Catherine had a son, which they named Charles, who once reaching adulthood he, like many young men of his day, was lured to the American West to seek his fortune.


Grandpaw Charles wound up in western Louisiana, near the Texas border, where he built a trading post and traded with the Indians. By this time, the Comanche Nation was in decline and they were taken advantage of by many traders and especially at Army outposts. Grandpaw Charles always treated the Comanche honorably and fairly and he gained their trust. It was because of this trust that the Yamparika band of Comanche’s traded almost exclusively at his trading post, and made him a very prosperous man. It was at this trading post that a young Indian maiden named Lily Hightree, caught his eye. They fell in love, and he married Grandmaw Lily in both a Methodist and a Comanche marriage ceremony. A few years later, the Yamparika Comanche were removed to a reservation in Oklahoma, and the army bought the trading post off of Grandpaw Charles and Grandmaw Lily. Rather than go to Oklahoma with the Yamparika’s, they decided to return to West Virginia. Soon after they departed Louisiana, they received word that smallpox laid waste to the Yamparika’s and all of Grandmaw Lily’s family perished in the onslaught. Charles and Lily bought a big farm in Hardy County in the Old Fields area, and lived out their days there. For the rest of her life, Grandmaw Lily talked about her people and made sure her children knew about them.



Charles and Lily had three children, Uncle Brooke, Aunt Lola and my Grandfather Garvin. Aunt Lola and Uncle Brooke never had any children, and my Grandfather Garvin was nearly 50 years old before he fathered my mother. They said that Grandmaw Lily was so ecstatic over finally having a grandchild and would sit and rock my mother in a rocking chair and pet on her and say over and over, “My baby, my baby”. Sadly, Grandmaw Lily died when my mother was only 3 years old.

Grandpaw Garvin was a character. He became a wealthy man, undoubtedly because he was an avid moonshiner. In his younger days, Grandpaw Garvin and Uncle Brooke bought an old hearse and hauled their moonshine all over, selling it to people. One of their biggest clients was a grocery store in Keyser. People still talk about Garvin and Brooke having the old hearse loaded down with ‘shine’ and driving all the way into Keyser. They didn’t fear the local law because the judge, the sheriff and other influential men in Hardy & Mineral Counties bought moonshine off of them. One time, a federal revenuer got wind of Garvin & Brooke’s operation, and made it his duty to catch them. Grandpaw Garvin said that he got really close to finding the ‘still’ one time, so they moved the operation into the basement of Garvin’s house. They hid the ‘still’ by building a secret wall between the ‘still’ room and the rest of the basement, and it was undetectable to the unknowning eye. Mom said that she remembers when she was a young girl, Garvin would take her with him on his “Shine” trips, and he’d drop her off at a store with a friend and then make his deals. She knew what he was doing, but he said that it wasn’t something that a girl ought to be involved in.



My mother.

Mom recalls that there were many old things in Garvin’s house, including several old items brought over from Scotland when the Wallace’s first came to this country. Mom remembers that the kitchen table was several hundred years old. She said that she remembers a kitchen cupboard that had several deerhides in them, undoubtedly inherited from Charles and Lily, and that she would take them out of the cupboard and, using a knife, would cut them up in little pieces so she could make purses and other playthings out of them. The woman that gave birth to my mother, a gold digger of the worst kind, would yell and her and tell Garvin, “She’s ruining those things”. Garvin would simply say, “Leave her alone. She’s learning.”



Mom.

My mother also remembers there always being several jugs of moonshine always being in the kitchen, kept high up on a shelf. Mom said she’d sometimes climb up to the shelf, and using a tablespoon, would sample the goods. She said that Garvin would have gotten angry if she drank a lot out of each jug, so she was careful to only get a little out of each jug. She also adds that since it wasn’t a big deal to drink moonshine in the house that the mystery was taken away from it so she didn’t really want to drink when she got older.



Garvin, Mom, Aunt Wanda, and the woman who gave birth to my mother.

Sadly, Mom didn’t get to live with Garvin for very long, the woman that gave birth to my mother soon grew bored with Garvin and as usual, moved on to the next man. She threw my mother off at her mother’s house yet again, and Garvin would only get to see my mother on the weekends. Once my mother and father were married, the lived with Garvin for a year or so to take care of Garvin when he was dying, and it was during this time that Garvin got to know me and Jason. We are told that Garvin always said he regretted that he would not being able to see us grow up, and that he hoped that we would know how much he loved us. Thanks to the stories, we did grow up knowing Garvin and the whole Wallace family. That, to me, makes us truly fortunate.




Me & Jason

Winter Memories

Today I'm going to post an old photo from Pendleton County. The photo comes courtesy of my cousin Darlene Wilton (we're cousins several different ways), and this photo is one of my absolute favorites. I think the photo just says so much on so many levels. It says "Welcome Home", it says "Remember", it says "Refuge", it says "Family", it says "Winter".

The two men in the photo are relatives of mine. As I understand it, the man leaning on the fence is Clint Thompson, the other fellow with the squirrel on his chest is Clinton Bennett. Clinton Bennett was Darlene's (who shared the photo with me) grandfather. The photo was taken near Spruce Knob, the highest point in West Virginia.

What does this photo say to you?

Photo courtesy of Darlene Wilton

Lost in the Mountains

I found this story about a cousin of mine named Jason Burns, who was found dead in the mountains at the age of 15. Jason's paternal grandfather was my Great-granddaddy George Burns brother. Also, Jason's maternal grandfather was also my Great-granddaddy George Burns brother. Jason's story is still told in the mountains...a modern day Appalachian cautionary tale.
========================
The Pendleton Times
14 December 1917

BODY OF BOY LOST IN MOUNTAINS FOUND AFTER EIGHT DAYS

The subject of this writing is Jason Burns, son of Mr. and Mrs. William Burns, of Glady, who on Saturday morning November 24, left home with two dogs and his gun to go hunting. He was seen about Eleven o’clock a mile from home going towards Beulah and not returning at night. It was thought that he had gone to some neighbor’s house. But not returning on Sunday, his parents becoming alarmed, word was telephoned all over the country and could get no clue of him. Searching parties began to search the mountainside where he was last seen, but could find no trace of him or the dogs. On Wednesday, the 28th, Jacob Arbogast found the dogs at his bear trap and phoned to his parents about the dogs. Then the mountains were full of men searching for him but it all seemed in vain as it kept snowing and no trace of him was found until Saturday when Wilson Sponaugle and James Wimer found tracks where he had stepped in a mossy place in old snow on an old railroad grade back towards Cheat River.

On Sunday morning, December 2, it was clear and a large crowd started in all directions in hope of finding him. About 11 O’clock, old tracks were discovered again in the old snow but hard to follow. Just at 12 O’clock, his body was found west of Beulah near the top of Shavers Mountain about 5 miles from home. It is supposed that that he was lost and froze to death the first night, as there was no sign of any fire where he was. He had his coat down on the ground and bed down on it and his gun lay at his feet loaded.

There were 18 men in the searching party that found him who names are as follows: Barney and Rafe Harris, Denis and Emery Thompson, Cleat and Ora Strader, Jacob Arbogast and son Sam, Charlie Rennix, Crickard Adams, Glen Heflin, Jess Ingerman, Wade Griffins, Ellis Williams, Dick Kessinger, William Burns, the father of the lost boy, and Clarence Bowers. The one that discovered his body first was Barney Harris, went on and broke the news over the phone while the rest stayed back and brought the body back to the railroad at Beulah, from there he was taken to his home at Glady on the hand car. On Monday, December 8, his body was taken to the church and his funeral was preached by a Mennonite preacher from Job. His texts was from Luke the 4th chapter, the 18th and 19th verses. At 4 O’clock his body was laid to rest in the Glady Cemetery amid a large congregation. He leaves to mourn his loss a father and mother, 3 brothers and 2 sisters besides a lot of sorrowing friends. He was 15 years, 3 months and 27 days old.

Now young boys all who read or hear this, take warning and listen to your parents when they advise you about the danger of going in the mountains with dogs and gun when you are not acquainted with the woods. The dogs led this boy so far in the woods that he couldn’t find his way back out. Think of the 8 long nights he lay out in the cold snowy mountains. Think for one minute how his dear father and mother felt and listen to your parents.

Written by Jacob Arbogast.

The Independent State of Webster

Today, I thought I'd share with my readers a little of the colorful history of Webster County, WV. When I think of Webster County, several things come to mind...to name a few...the largest hardwood tree in West Virginia (and perhaps the world), Custard Stand Hotdog Chili, the site of the last buffalo killed in WV, the excellent quality of potatoes grown there, and of course, The Independent State of Webster.

This post is dedicated to the Independent State of Webster, an oft-forgotten segment of West Virginia history.

Be sure that you read the county court records at the end of the article, it has been said that the truth is stranger than fiction and in this case...it is the stuff that legends are made of.
=========================================

Printed in the Parkersburg News, April 1902
"Webster County and the Foreign Press. The Independent State of Webster"
by H. Coleman Thurmond.

"Webster county was formed in 1859 by an act of the legislature of Virginia, but there was no county organization until about 1864, as the Civil War came on and delayed the organization. But long before that date the section called Webster was and is now known as "The Independent State", and even before it was formed it had a Governor and other officers of its own, who recognized no superiors and paid tribute to no other authority.

The Independent State was then almost an unbroken forest, with a few settlersalong the rivers, without roads of any kind, except mere bridle or cattle paths, over which the natives transported their seng, pelts and other produce to Charleston or Clarksburg, and brought back coffee, calico and such articles on horseback, attached to a pack saddle.

At that time this was indeed a hunter's paradise, as deer, bear and all kinds of game were abundant, and every family could, if they desired, have venison for breakfast by simply going out in their yard or "patch", and shooting such game as they wished. The country was indeed flowing with "milk and honey", and even now no other section of this state equals it for pure, nice white honey.

Such grain as the settlers wanted was raised and in the littlemills, so common now, along the streams, each man who had a grist could go in and grind it himself, which he always did, as there was no such thing as a miller, and "toll" the grist, putting the toll into a barrel or box and taking his meal or buckwheat home to his family.

The Independent State of Webster at that time was not taxed, and had no representation, but the people cared little for that matter, as it was immaterial to them who was President or Secretary or whether slavery was abolished or not, as there were no Negroes here to be freed. Long before the War the Independent State was organized.

George M. Sawyers was Governor and had under him a full set of State officials down to constable, and ruled the land to theentire satisfaction of all concerned, with none to molest or make afraid, as the roads were such that not even soldiers of an army could invade the Independent State, and the people enjoyed their freedom, as well as buckwheat cakes, honey, and moonshine.Such things as these were good enough for any king and it is no wonder that many of the Governor's subjects lived to be over 100 years of age and deaths were few and far between.

It is said that when the county court of Nicholas heard that the Independent State had chosen a governor and officers that "the court doth appoint Pat Duffy as ambassador to the Independent State to make a treaty of peace and friendship and to arrange for our people to go inthere and buy 'seng and to hunt in the fall of the year", and Pat came and was so overjoyed at this reception that he decided to stay, and did stay, reporting to his court as follows:

"I came, I saw, but they conquered, and I am now one of the natives, having been chosen sheriff. Their venison, buckwheat, honey, tree molasses and moonshine cannot be excelled on earth. The governor extends a hearty welcome to the court and all people, languages and tongues to come here and live, hunt, fish, dig ramps, and trade among the natives".

On receipt of this report the court acknowledged the independence of the Independent State, and this action was followed by the county courts of the adjoining counties.

A few items from the proceedings of the county court of the Independent State may be of interest, which are about as follows:

"Ordered that hereafter the price of seng and pelts shall be this: One pound of dry seng for one pound of coffee; one deer or wolf pelt for one pound of coffee, or a yard of jeans or calico; bear pelts, one dollar, or four pounds of coffee; and further, that taxes may be paid in seng, pelts or coffee."

"Ordered that slavery be abolished in this State."

"Ordered that the license on moonshine shall be one-eighth of the 'juice'."

"The court expresses its sympathy of Kelly Ben Hamrick as he fell out of his tater patch into the river and hurt his back."

"Ordered that Dave Lilly be admitted to practice law in this court, and be licensed to preach and celebrate matrimony."

"This day came the parties in the case of Benny Cogar vs. Silas Clifton, and the jury rendered the following verdict:

'We the jury find that the mule sued for had only one eye and was hip-shot, ring-boned and clumsy, and not worth much of any thing, so we fix its value at one pound of green coffee, one bear pelt and two pounds of seng, which said Clifton can pay said Cogar next fall or winter'

"Ordered that Tunis McElwain, Bob Clevinger and Andy Shanks be and they are appointed a committee to go and locate the grave of Moses, and also to locate the landing place of the Ark, and report to this court next summer."

"This day came the parties in the case of Pat Carr vs. Pat Duffy, sheriff, and the jury rendered the following verdict:

'We the jury find that Pat Duffy did imprison said Carr and big old sow in the same cell of the county jail, and that said Carr being full of moonshine did wake up in the night and beat the old sow nearly to death, but that said Duffy did not know the old sow was in the jail when he put said Carr therein, and as the said old sow is still alive and said Carr was turned out as soon as the noise of the old sow awakened Duffy and he could get there, we find a verdict in favor of said Duffy.'"

It being reported that the Yankees are coming, it is ordered that court do now adjourn."

Times they are a-changin'!

The Pendleton Times, 17 December 1943
North Fork News

A tower has been erected on the Nige Rocks on North Mountain. The soldier boys constructed a phone line to the tower. This gives a panorama view of Monkey Town, Spruce Knob, Allegheny Mountain, North Mountain and different other places.

W.A. Judy has been appointed to teach Hunting Ground school vacated by Luke Crossland. Rev. Ray Hinkle has been placed in the high school to a place vacated by Mrs. Cornelia Dyhre.

A human skull was found along route 33 on the east side of North Mountain and it was sent to the office of Dr. J.L. Lambert. On examination he pronounced it to be a girl’s skull about sixteen years old.

Okey Day is loud in his praise of the Democratic Party for giving him a pension in his declining days.

Everything is quiet in the peaceful little village of Circleville. Large chicken houses have been erected by Mr. Parker from South Carolina, C.A. Warner, Forrest G. Lantz and Doll Lantz. Saw Mills must have been erected on the edge of the village. Martin W. Nelson is building a hotel. Every thing points for a boom for that town in the near future.

The cry of the terrible Snoligaster as it seemed to be at the moment sent the dogs scurrying to safety. A mournful howl filled the air and sent chills up the backs of the inhabitants. On investigation it was found to be a false alarm. It was the good women of the neighborhood moving in a slow procession with filled chaffticks from the writer’s straw stack. This procession reminded one of the covered wagons in by gone days.

Blessed are the peacemakers. A convoy went all night Friday night. These boys are fighting for our freedom. We respect them and should do our part in making their lives pleasant.

We don’t know whether it is right to mutilate and destroy women, mothers and little children. The great teacher took little children in His arms and blessed them.

We have no great feasts to mention. We are living on bacon, beans, cornbread and mush. Now and then a pound cake for which we are thankful.

A Festival & Lard Scalding

This coming weekend, September 19-22, my home county of Pendleton will hold the annual Treasure Mountain Festival. Growing up, my family always got together and went to the Festival, and we usually just milled around in the crowd and ate a lot of food. You see, there’s not much to do at the Festival besides see old friends and eat. I always liked to use the festival as an excuse to put on my “winter coat”, an old mountain term referring the need to get fattened up for the winter months.


Me at the TMF 2006. Yes, those bags are full of food!

The Festival is always held on the 3rd weekend of September and this year it will commemorate the 250th anniversary of the Burning of Fort Seybert.


Every year following the parade, the Burning of Fort Seybert is re-enacted on the site of the original fort.



The Treasure Mountain Festival story begins shortly after the attack in 1758 when a band of Shawnee Indians under the leadership of the Delaware chief, Killbuck, attacked and burned Fort Seybert & Fort Upper Tract. The only remaining fort left standing in Pendleton County was Hinkle’s Fort, which was built by my 7-great grandfather Johann Justice Hinkle.


My brother Jason and the 7-great-granddaughter of Chief Killbuck. She attends the Treasure Mountain Festival every year.

After leaving the site of Fort Seybert, the Indians along with their prisoners crossed the mountains through Greenawalt Gap, a natural and well-known crossing through the rugged mountains. From there they travelled through Germany Valley and westward to the Little Kanawha River in present-day Upshur County, which in turn, further took them to the Ohio River and the Shawnee town of Chillicothe.



Pendleton Natives, Brud & Ardella make their annual pilgrimage through the TMF Parade. Brud always fires off a few rounds from his muzzleloader to delight the crowds.




The few settlers who escaped the massacre told of what happened and they recounted a story of how the valuable possessions and treasures belonging to the settlers were collected in an iron kettle and a wooden pole was stuck through the bale and two Indians carried the treasure. As they were climbing up the eastern slope of South Fork Mountain, the terrain became steeper and the two Indians fell behind the larger group. Fear of pursuit made the two Indians abandon the kettle full of treasures, and when they rejoined the larger group they were empty-handed. They said they had hidden the treasure somewhere on the mountain along the trail near a giant hollow tree, and that they would return to claim the treasure at a later time. It is doubtful that the Indians returned , as this was their last known visit to the area.

Over the years since that fateful autumn day in 1758, many locals have so strongly believed in the existence of the treasure that they searched the still-visible mountain trail in hopes of locating it.

While no one has succeeded in uncovering this ancient "pot of gold", the legend lives on and is celebrated every year at the Treasure Mountain Festival.

I have a family story that tells of this Shawnee raid in Pendleton County. On their way up the South Branch of the Potomac River, the Indians passed my Grandmother Rebecca Skidmore’s cabin. All the menfolk were away hunting up in the mountains. According to the story passed down through the generations, Grandmaw saw the Indians coming up the river but didn’t run away, she said she was too old to run anyway, and besides, her grandmother was a Shawnee woman named Sowetha, so she figured she had no real reason to fear and expected the Indians just wanted to trade as they usually did when they were in this part of the country. As they neared, my grandmaw said she saw that this was a raiding party and she knew she was in trouble but there wasn’t anything she could do about it, so she just went about her business, which just happened to be rendering lard. Well, the Indians pulled up their canoes and started up to the Skidmore cabin, and she just acted like she wasn’t afraid. She said the Indians went into the cabin and stole her coffee and sugar and came out and that she could tell they were deciding what to do with her. She said she knew a couple of Shawnee words and said them, and tried to tell them that she was part Shawnee, and they just grunted and talked among themselves. She said then one big Indian pulled out his knife and started toward her and she knew she had to do something right then, so she instinctively threw a big dipper of rendering hog fat in his face and he took to digging at his eyes and scalded face. The other Indians thought this was just too funny and roared in laughter, and then restrained the man from revenge. She said they then went back in the house and took her butcher knife and a hatchet and nodded to her as they went back towards the river, still laughing about what she had done. The story further tells how Grandmaw Skidmore was rather shocked that they left without killing her. Years later, when Killbuck was asked about this, he talked of how the raiding party had encountered an old white woman that fought like a Shawnee, and for her bravery, they had let her live.


The Giant Pendleton Pumpkin Contest 2007.

So, if anyone is in the area this coming weekend, be sure and stop by the Treasure Mountain Festival, there's sure to be something that will interest you there.

Nothing Changes but the Seasons

Thought y'all might find this old newspaper clipping of interest. The Pendleton Times is still in publication and still has news items like this in it. I find these old ones amusing.

Bland Hills 1930's, about the time of this was written.

The Pendleton Times

10 February 1933

North Fork News

Mr. and Mrs. Arlie Simmons and Brooks Calhoun made a business trip to Crabbottom selling radios, Delco-lights, punch boards, etc.

Born last week to Mr. and Mrs. Forrest G. Lantz a six pound daughter.

David Cunningham, of Job, is visiting friends in Circleville. Mr. Cunningham and Okey Day were discussing the trend of the times, Mr. Cunningham claiming they were growing worse. Mr. Day argued to the contrary. To prove his point he exhibited one of Stark's Golden Delicious apples, but the wheels of depression had bruised and mangled it and it didn't look natural.

The Ladies Aid of Circleville was at Harman Saturday night and gave a play. This society works harmoniously together and is doing good work among the citizens of Circleville.

Frank Nelson, a man of ninety-three years, died at the home of his daughter, Mrs. P.H. Kisamore, near Riverton, Monday. He could read without using glasses. Jacob Harman, an aged man of the same neighborhood, died Saturday.

Born to Mr. and Mrs. Kenny Warner last week, twin daughters. They lived only a few hours.

A negro member of the convict gang working on Elk Mountain road was killed by a flying stone last week when a large blast was set-off. Also, the blacksmith went mad and was preparing to kill some of the workers. The boss felled him with a blow and handcuffed him and sent him back to the penitentary at Moundsville.

Sunday was the worst day we have had this winter. The mercury was down to zero. The wind blew a gale that tore down trees, toppled over haystacks and unroofed houses.

Jenifer Mullenax and Boyd Harper took a load of cattle to the Baltimore market Monday.

Luther Hammer has returned from Baltimore and reports the market low on stock. Fairly good cows sell $8 a head. At a sheriffs sale in Bath County, VA good cows averaged $9 a head and good yearling cattle were sold at $3.50 a head.

"Buzz" Warner, of Hunting Ground, caught a large catamount and brought it to Circleville alive. He sold it to C.A. Warner to put in his menagerie. He had twelve coons and nine police dogs in his collection.

We believe President Allen of Davis and Elkins College was right in saying there are too many teachers in West Virginia. The wise man Solomon said that of the making of books there was no end and too much study was a weariness to the flesh. This wise man knew what he was talking about.

Never to Leave the Holler!

A few days ago, I received from a distant cousin a photo of my great-great-great grandfather and my great-great aunt, Solomon Hedrick & Mahala Teter. I had never before seen this photograph and seeing it reminded me of their story.

Solomon & Mahala (Teter) Hedrick about 1900.

The story begins with Mahala's parents, Samuel and Sidney (Wimer) Teter. When Mahala was 10 years old, her father Samuel died in a farming accident. A few years later, the widow Sidney gave birth to a daughter, which she named Sidney Teter. No matter how you look at it, there is no way possible that the baby belonged to Samuel Teter. Word got around, and it turned out that the widow Sidney had been laying with Solomon Hedrick and that the baby belonged to him. With the secret out, Solomon and the widow Sidney made their relationship known and Solomon acknowledged the child as his own, but here is where it gets colorful.

About this time a man named Cornelius Ketterman, whom the widow Sidney had grown close to in the months following her husbands death came back into the scenario. According to stories, Cornelius was really in love with the widow Sidney and promised to marry her after some time had passed (she was in mourning) and when the War was over (in those days, men thought the War of Northern Aggression would only last a few months).


Well, when ole Cornelius came back into the picture, the widow Sidney cut it off with Solomon Hedrick and took up again with Cornelius. It wasn't long until she and Cornelius had a son together, and soon thereafter Cornelius went back into the Confederate Service where he was captured and sent to the Yankee Prison Camp in Camp Chase, OH. He died there. The widow Sidney was once again left alone, only this time with two young children to raise.


In the meantime, a new romance was budding, this one between Solomon Hedrick and Mahala Teter. I guess Grandpaw Solomon thought if he couldn't have the mother, then by golly, he'd have the daughter. Mahala and Solomon were no relation, per se, since she was the daughter of the widow Sidney's first marriage. As time passed, Mahala and Solomon were married, and the widow Sidney moved in with them with her two children, a girl by Solomon and the boy by Cornelius. By all accounts, the widow Sidney approved of the marriage between her daughter and her former suitor, and always held Solomon in high regard because he was a good provider.


The daughter of the widow Sidney and Solomon Hedrick that was named Sidney Teter, soon took on her father's surname as well, and became Sidney Teter Hedrick. She was my great-great grandmother. I wonder how she really felt about her sister being her step-mother? About her father being her brother-in-law? She didn't get married until she was 19 years old, which in those days was a little long in the tooth, so I can only guess that she must have been comfortable with the whole situation.


When the daughter Sidney Teter Hedrick married Miles Thompson, they built a house next door to Solomon, Mahala and the widow Sidney, and lived there the rest of her life.


I know there has to be more to the story than what I've been able to collect from family stories and historical records and such. I'd say there is a very interesting story here somewhere...lost in the recesses of time. My how tongues must have wagged!