Early Pioneer Days in Texas
Chapter VI
John Taylor Allen
The author and compiler of this book was born October 29th, 1840, at the homestead of his father, which was located six miles northwest of Honey Grove, in Fannin County, and on which homestead his father settled in 1838. School advantages in his boyhood were limited, and he grew up in a part of the world where there was not much activity. Being extremely sensitive as a youth, and conscious of his lack of education, he indulged in such education as close application and study of books and papers within his ability and grasp afforded. Occasionally it was his privilege to attend the old hewed log school house, Allen's chapel, with its adobe chimney made of dirt and sticks, where he sat on seats made of logs split in the middle and in which large auger holes were bored for legs. There were no backs to the seats, and it was here that the major part of his early education was obtained, augmented at night by brush or tallow candle light in so far as he was able to get the opportunity from the demands on him for work about the home. It was not an easy matter then, nor were opportunities for information as to obtain what is now every child's privilege to get an education, but he had a thirst for knowledge and applied himself energetically, perseveringly to the task before him, and made advancement as rapidly as he possibly could under the circumstances. His father and mother encouraged him in his ambitions all they could and bought him such useful and helpful books as they were able to get. Mr. Allen did not get much chance to study ancient lore or the dead languages, but his words are the words of a living language, and he learned this living language under strenuous conditions; conditions that tested the metal of a man, and by the results of the energies and industry of these men, made possible the freedom of speech and homes of happy families that we now enjoy.
Mr. Allen was not a book worm, even though he devoted so much of his time to study and took delight in sports and hunting. The abundance of game abounding about him gave excellent opportunities for his love of the chase after wild horses and deer. When but a mere child he was sent on errands, for he could ride a horse at an early age. It was a part of his duties as a lad to go to mill, the first one built by Uncle Dad Johnson, an ox mill in 1857; Mr. J. M. Williamson was then the mill hand. The home of his boyhood was a hewed log cabin of the primitive kind, among the first built in Fannin County. It's hard to realize it now, but there were no conveniences; the lights were made by candles or pine knots, the fireplaces and chimneys were not built of handsome firebrick and tile, but folks in those days were happy with hearths of timber and chimneys made of mud and held together with sticks, covering up the cracks and openings with plaster made of clay and pieces of wood pinned on with wooden pegs and heavy weight poles held the boards of the roof in place. The windows and doors were made of clap-boards and floors were made with boards sawed out by hand with a whip saw; in most cases there were puncheon floors in the homes. They did not rest their heads in downy pillows, nor their bodies on feather beds, nor were there cosy rockers and sofas as we have them now. They had to get along with chairs and stools and benches made of rough lumber and rawhide strips; beds were made by placing one side of the bed on the logs in the wall and a round hole with upright posts set in auger holes on the other side, and laced with rawhide strips to make the place where could lay buffalo hides and straw to lie upon. But they slept as well and enjoyed their slumber as much and dreamt sweet, happy dreams of contentment as on any bed of luxury we now enjoy. The bedding and covers were all home-made, home-spun and corded and woven blankets, quilts and bed ticking was all made by industrious hands in their own homes. There were no gas stoves then either, not even the good old family range that the cooks today make such appetizing dishes on. In those days the cooks had to get along with a frying pan or skillet and coffee pots, and it was some time be- fore they could make suitable ovens to bake in, but the roasts of beef, pork, venison, bear and buffalo meat, not to overlook the fat turkey, quail and prairie chicken don't taste so good, nor do the fried squirrel and fish taste so good as they did when the youthful days of the pioneers were roughing it.
Twice a year the sheep were sheared and then the folks would sit up late at night picking out the burrs and trash from the wool, then wash and card it and spin and weave it into cloth, from which clothing and bedding was made. The mother' of the family, assisted by the negro servants, did this work, and it was good and durable, all wool and no shoddy entered into the manufacture in those days.
They tanned the hides of the cattle at the farrier, Medlin and Green's red oak bark ooze tan yard. The upper and sole leather was used to make shoes, bridles and harness. The author of this book and his father, mother and brothers used to sit about the fireplace cobbling shoes and making straps and halters and other things, at the same time rehearsing experiences and adventures that they had gone through during their hunting expeditions.
The table was always well provided with game of all kinds, and the delicious breakfasts that was spread before the family when they arose in the early morning hours with nice hot biscuits and fine wild honey in abundance to spread upon them. As many as a dozen bee trees were known to the author of this book, and what delight it was to cut these trees and extract the honey to spread on good buttered bread. Honey was very plentiful and was available the whole year round, ready for every festive or family need.
There was plenty of rich, nutritious grass for the stock, and they kept fat and fine in summer and spring, and in winter they would be so fat that a tub of tallow was taken from a beef and it was not unusual, either.
The cane breaks in the bottoms grew about as high and thick as a jungle, and it was impossible to detect thirty feet away, when the cane was shaking, whether the cause of the shaking was an Indian, an animal or a man, and white men used to have their guns cocked and ready for any emergency, prepared to triumph over whatever adversary may come out upon them. Hogs kept fat the year round on the wild grass most and needed no other feed; even the horses and riding stock were turned loose or lariated, and were strengthened and satisfied with the food that nature provided. The stock was turned loose with a bell on the leader to roam at will over night, and in the morning would be rounded up, harnessed, and put to work till 11. Then about 1 or 2 o'clock would resume the work of the day, preparing the ground or harvesting the crop that made possible the development of our farms of today.
The beautiful wild flowers with their exquisite fragrance gave such a pleasant sense of admiration emblematic of cheerfulness, peace and good will. May they ever be lavishly strewn along our path and may we rightly appreciate them for their angelic message to us as we hasten on our journey to the Great Beyond, where our loved ones and friends are waiting at the beautiful gate to welcome us to our eternal home, where the trees of life are ever blooming and where the river of life flows freely, giving healing and joy and delight wherever it goes. Where the sun never sets, nor the leaves never fade, in that beautiful city whose pavements are of gold. Where no night, no sickness or distress can exist, but where peace, happiness, love and joy abound. No wilted boquets there, but beautiful blooms, fair and pure.
Close to the flower is the honey bee, and no words can portray fittingly the ever-industrious bee. It flits from flower to flower, sips here a little and there a little, taking a little of the sweet from one and a little from another until it has succeeded in gathering its winter's store. What a lesson it gives to us all in patient industry, in economy, in persistency.
As we judge the future by the past, and since coming events cast their shadows before them, and realizing that from the sweat of our face must we eat bread, let us apply ourselves to industry and labor, for labor will promote health and give us a long and happy life. It is too true that idleness is the devil's workshop and no one is wise who spends the hours with idle hands. If we would be contented and happy, let us be obedient to the call of Him who has honored labor and work.
It was during the first year of the war 1861 that the author, on the 15th day of April, was called on to witness his mother's deathbed; no, not her deathbed, it was her transitory bed. There is no death; what seems so is transition. She talked freely of her readiness to go to God in peace; not a cloud intervened between her God and the home He had prepared for her. Her only sorrow was to leave her little children, four of the seven were quite small, in this world so full of trials, temptations and pitfalls. She knew well the tendency and proness to err of the unguided mind and the ease with which temptation carries off the unwary, but her confidence in God was so great she committed them all to His keeping, praying that He would prove a father to her orphans and finally bring them to himself. She fell sweetly asleep in Jesus; she had found the pearl of great price and entered into that glorious rest prepared and waiting for the children of God.
The author is now living in the house in which he was born, which is a frame building, built in the year 1846, the framing of which was sawed out with a whip-saw. My three oldest brothers were born in the old pioneer log cabin built in the year 1837.
The others have gone, too, now, and father's words: "Taylor, my son, you can be useful; do away with enmity. I have no enmity in my heart against anyone," and after singing "Home, sweet home, my long-sought home," he passed over the river to be with Him who liveth and abideth forever. We cannot measure these ceaseless cycles of eternity; 'twould be easier to count the grains of sand carried by a bird to the outermost planet one at a time, but we can rejoice that God has so loved us as to prepare for us a home there where there is no limit to life. My father came to Texas from Tennessee in the spring of 1836. He was born August 1st, 1816, in Edgefield District, South Carolina. He went to Tennessee when he was just a mere lad of eight. When he was older he heard of the efforts of Texas to rid themselves of Spanish yolk, and being of a patriotic turn of mind, cast his lot with the Lone Star State in company with Dr. Boyce and Everitt Harris. He expected to enlist with Sam Houston, but when he got here he found peace had been declared and Texas had gained her independence. He located on a 640- acre grant, which he proved up, and accumulated several thousand acres more; married Martha P. Nicholson in 1839, from which union nine children were born; three of them still live, myself and two sisters, one of whom lives at Crowell, Texas, who married Mr. Bart Fox; the other at Newport, Oklahoma.
The camp meetings we used to have in the brush arbor at the end of Allen's chapel a hewed log church and school house linger with me in delightful memories with scenes of joy and thanksgiving. How the arbor used to ring with reverberating sounds of shouts and songs, echo answering echo, till the mighty sound of voices seem to cover all the regions round about. The people used to congregate from twenty to thirty miles away, coming in their ox wagons and on horseback and some afoot, to hear the welcome tidings of good cheer. Everyone was sociable and dressed in their home-spun garments in delightful simplicity and rustic honesty. The meetings would continue for weeks at a time and lasted till midnight usually. Many a soul found peace and rest at these meetings, and most of them are answering roll call now in the presence of Him who made it possible for us to have eternal joy.
At these protracted meetings the fatted calf and beef were killed, and hogs, deer, bear and liberal feasts of plenty abounded, each vieing with each other to scatter liberally of their hospitality. No price was charged, no money asked; everybody was welcome to partake freely both of the feast of the gospel and the feast of the table of food. As many as forty or fifty have been present at my father and mother's home, where we spread buffalo robes and home-spun cloth over the ground, and there they slept and enjoyed their slumber and undisturbed peace in enjoying the luxuries of spiritual fulness and physical fulness as well.
J. T. Allen, the author of this book, and Miss Mary E. Hinch, were united in the holy bond of wedlock the 31st of March, in the year A. D. 1878. Unto this union were born seven children four boys and three girls all of whom are living except two. One son, Isaac Franklin, died November 8, 1885, aged 1 year 11 months 1 days, and one daughter, Docia B. Allen, died April 13, 1886, aged 5 months and 16 days. Sleep on, dear precious darlings, until the resurrection; oh, then, we shall meet again, never to part again. Three sons and two daughters are still living; the oldest daughter, who married J. S. Graham, have one child, a daughter, now nearly grown; they are living at Kiefer, Oklahoma. Also two married sons, M. L. and J. C., and their families are living at Kiefer, Oklahoma. Our youngest son, W. I. Allen, aged 17 years, still single, is living with us in the old home, a great help to his parents in their old, declining, afflicted years. One daughter, Bertha May, married Walter J. Shawhart, will soon be living at Kiefer, Oklahoma. They had one son and two daughters born unto them; one daughter died in infancy.
May all the boys and girls of Texas appreciate their opportunities, privileges and conveniences, and realize that it was through the daring and adventures of these heroic men and women that the way was made for peaceful happy homes for the children of today. To those who so faithfully and sincerely performed their duty too high a tribute of respect cannot be paid. To Him who loved us and gave us the pearl of great price, to Him be praise for the lavish bestowal of such magnificence as we now have. We are hastily and rapidly passing to the end of our journey here; soon the race will be over, and may we meet in the brighter, happier home and have a great and grand reunion of the early settlers with the hosts that have followed after.
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