Dr. Stephen Chauncey Stone (1847-1937) - wrote the "Narrative of the John Stone Family Crossing the Plains in 1863" - written in Salem, Oregon, 20 June 1922.
NARRATIVE OF THE JOHN STONE FAMILY CROSSING THE PLAINS IN 1863
BY S. C. STONE
My father owned a farm five miles southeast of Charleston, Illinois, in Hutton Township, Coles County. The place was located at the junction of two highways just across from what was known in those days as the Five Mile House. From the fact that father’s health was not very good he and mother during the winter of 1862-1863 often discussed the proposition of immigrating to California the next spring and summer. There was a man whom father had known all his life by the name of Jackson Cartwright who lived in our neighborhood and had made the trip to California in the gold excitement of 1849. Cartwright encouraged father to sell our farm and move to California as he wished to move his family there also and especially so as his wife had relatives living there. Two other families by the name Beasley and Boly wanted to immigrate to Colorado and would go that far with us, and they talked the matter up also. Well, father sold his farm in the spring of 1863 to James Waltrip and began making all necessary arrangements for the trip.
He rigged up two wagons with two yoke of oxen to each wagon. The reason for using oxen instead of horses or mules was that they usually stood the trip better and besides we were informed that Indians would steal horses or mules much quicker than they would oxen. They did not use oxen in their business as they did not work and as far as food was concerned, the buffalo was conveniently near, and much better. My brother Zeke and I were very much pleased with the proposition of moving to California as we had never been out of Cole County, and, therefore, would have an opportunity to camp out, to sleep in a tent, to see big rivers, steamboats, high mountains, Indians, buffalo, deer, antelope, besides, maybe we would have the opportunity to have a belt, a holster, and carry a pistol or a Navy revolver, all of which was a boy idea of the trip.
May the 7th, 1863, was the day set for starting on the long journey and our relatives and friends and neighbors gathered at our home to see us start and bid us good-bye. Our family consisted of father John Stone, mother Permelia D. Stone, Stephen C. Stone (myself), Ezekiel H. Stone, Samantha Stone, Jeremiah Stone, Alva Curtis Stone, J. Newton Stone, and Arminda J. Stone, their children, and Grandmother Nancy Stone and William Perry Gilbert, a cousin to the Stone Children.
Our route led us through Charleston, Mattoon, Beardstown, Springfield, and Carthage, Illinois. As we passed through Carthage, we saw the jail where a mob had torn a large hole in the wall of the jail and shot Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet, and his brother Hiram, who had been arrested and were confined in the jail. This occurred in June 1844, but the scar on the wall of the jail was there plainly to be seen yet. The city of Nauvoo was not very far away. We were soon at the Mississippi river and crossed on a steam ferry over to Keokuk, Iowa. From Keokuk we traveled along not far from the Iowa and Missouri line until we arrived at Council Bluffs, Iowa. As we traveled through Iowa, we found quite a few of the towns and villages almost entirely deserted owing to the Civil War. The country was most all prairie, and we would look away ahead of us and see what appeared from a distance to be a nice town but when we would arrive in the town we would find only a few men, maybe only two or three. The residents had become alarmed at the spread of the war and had skipped. However, one village we passed through, the inhabitants were all French---a colony in which all the men were dressed alike and the women were dressed exactly alike and all worked hard and ate at the same table and evidently were prosperous and happy. At the time we came through Iowa we could have taken up beautiful prairie land for farms, but we had started for California, and it was “California or Bust” as we would often see written on the sides of covered wagons as we traveled along. When we came to the Missouri river, we crossed on a steam ferry over to Omaha. In driving out in the suburbs of Omaha to camp, we noticed several large corrals of big, covered freight wagons and soon found out that they were Mormons sent out from Salt Lake City to Omaha for goods as Omaha was the nearest point to that city.
In forming these corrals, they would drive one-half of the train in a circle to the right and the other half in a circle to the left--the ends of the semi-circle coming almost together leaving a space of twelve or fifteen feet at each end to drive the stock into the corrals. This place they would close with log-chains. The ends of the wagons would be drawn up close together forming a pretty strong fence or wall that the stock could not very well escape from. The freight would be large, high and covered, and to it would be hitched from fifteen to twenty yoke of oxen, and to the wagon would be one or two trail wagons attached. Almost every day from Omaha to Salt Lake City we would meet those long freight trains. As that time there were no railroads connecting the East and the West. When we camped at night, we corralled our wagons in the same way.
As we came along this side of Omaha we noticed on either side of the road the skeletons of many buffalo, oxen and elk that had laid for many years until they were bleached out as white as marble. Pick up most any buffalo or ox head and you would find names written most all over it. The party would give his name and address and where he was bound for and many times a verse.
After we left Omaha, for forty or fifty miles we would occasionally see a farmhouse, generally made of sod, but pretty soon there were no more houses to be seen. All our lives we had been used to seeing farmhouses with the smoke curling out from the big chimneys, but we could see them no more. Naturally, we would strain our eyes to see some indications of civilization but there was none. Occasionally we would see a few Indians and away out in the hills herds of buffalo which when they were running would look like a low dark cloud moving along. Of nights, we would hear the hideous howling of the prairie wolves which not very pleasant music.
The first Indians we saw were the Pawnees, a few miles out from Omaha. Some of them lived in sod houses during the winter, but in the summer, they lived in wigwams which they could move from place to place to suit the opportunities for getting game and other food. I believe the Sioux Indians were more like the buffalo--would go south in the winter and when spring came work north where the grass would be greener. We had no trouble with the Indians but a few times it looked like we might have a spat with them.
A few miles out from Omaha we consolidated our train with a larger one which then made a village on wheels of about forty families. They called a meeting and proceeded to elect a captain and a sergeant of the guard. When night came on, the roll of names was called and those who were to go on guard proceeded to take charge of the stock. About one o’clock in the night they would be relieved and other guards take charge. Away along in the night the stock would lie down to rest and the guards could get together and sit and chat for an hour or two, but cattle are somewhat like people. Some are nervous and fidgety and with the stock this would nearly always be an old bell cow which must get up and feed and the tinkle of her bell would arouse the whole herd and this meant the guards must be up and doing to their great chagrin.
Many of the horses could not get around very well owing to the fact that they were encumbered with iron chain hobbles. These hobbles were so made that it was quite a puzzle to put them on a horse’s forelegs where they were intended to be worn and also quite a trick to take off. An Indian could not take them off and white men would have to be shown often before they would know how to remove them. A horse with hobbles would not be stolen by Indians but the hobble was quite a hindrance to the horse moving around as he would have to lift both fore feet from the ground at the same time and step forward with his hind feet only. Some would use a picket rope and an iron picket driven in the ground. This would give the horse a circle of probably a hundred feet, to feed in, but the picketing out of a horse is not satisfactory as they would many times get tangled up in the rope and burn their legs about the hocks until they were almost lamed which would be slow in healing up as all rope burns are.
We soon came to the Platte River which was shallow but wide and full of islands and the water is very roiley--full of fine sand. To use it we would have to dip a bucket full and let it stand quite a while until the sand settled down to the bottom of the bucket. Some were careless and would drink the roiley water and hence would get diarrhea which often lead to typhoid fever or what they called mountain fever. Along the Platte we boys noticed that some of the trees which were cottonwood or balm had a ring cut around them until they could hardly stand, and many had fallen over. This ring was cut around two or three feet above the ground. At first, we thought that the Indians had done it with their tomahawks but soon found out that a wise little animal, the beaver, had done the cutting and falling of the trees so that they could build their houses down in the water. They managed most always to fall the tree in the river. There was no timber away from the river as it only grew along the banks of the river or on the islands.
Our train was what you might call a mixed train--of horse, mule, and ox teams. Soon after leaving Omaha horse and mule teams would catch up with us and go by in a trot. In fact, would drive in a trot most of the time. Well, in a few weeks we would overtake them and pass them by, their teams had got thin and jaded down and many of them lame; all of which fully demonstrated the fact--to go slow and sure is the best policy not only in driving long distances but in many other matters as well.
A long up the Platte we would often see a depression in the earth about a foot deep and eight or ten feet across which were called buffalo wallows. These depressions or little basins would many times contain a few inches of water which was called alkali water as it was a strong solution of salt, borax and sol soda and looked as red as lye. When we would unyoke our oxen at camp if we did not watch them very closely they would go and drink this strong alkali water which was nearly always sure death to those drinking it. If we would drive them to fresh good water first and let them fill up with that, they would not drink enough of the alkali water to hurt them. I remember well our losing a very valuable ox in that way, before we had become aware of how dangerous it was. This water was salty and they liked it.
The captain of the train would usually ride on ahead of the train and look out the dangerous places in the road, bad hills and also campgrounds suitable for his train to camp at noon or night. Sometimes he would ride back and meet the train or stop until the train came up then he would hear the questions asked by many different ones of the train. “Captain, have you found a good camp ground? Plenty of wood, water and grass?” Three essentials of a good campground.
When we struck what we called Sweetwater River some emigrants were camped there, and one man seemed to be a crowd to himself had a campfire to one side. He had caught some frogs in the river and had removed their hams and was frying them. He said they were fine eating and tried to get us boys to eat frogs with him, but we declined.
It almost made us sick to see him eat the frogs.
For many days at a time, we would have no wood to burn in our sheet iron camp stoves and so would have to burn buffalo chips--the dried fecal matter of the buffalo, which would burn quite readily and made a hot fire. Many times, I have seen men and boys out gathering up great armfuls and women gathering apronfulls of those buffalo chips.
In some places there was a kind of willow that would grow in the rather low ground and grow very thick on the ground and when the prairie fire came along in the fall it would run through them and scorch them just enough to kill them. Then when the emigrants came along the next season, they could use them as fuel. We could gather around all that our hands would span or reach around then give them a few wiggles and the willows would break off at the ground. They would make a hot fire but would not last long. We would bind them in bundles and tie them on behind our wagon boxes and haul them sometimes for days at a time to use at camps where there was no fuel of any kind or where we would arrive at camp after dark and could not see to hunt up fuel.
I believe that we averaged about twelve or fifteen miles a day on the trip. When we got to Fort Laramie we camped across the river from the fort, and we boys were playing out in the shade of a lone tree and pretty soon some of us discovered a dead Indian buried so to speak up in the branches of the tree. He had been wrapped up in a buffalo robe or skin and had been lashed to the limbs with a lariat or rope made of the buffalo skins. We scampered away in great confusion and did not return to investigate and farther as we were not only afraid of the dead brave but were afraid that the live Indians would take it as an affront and shoot us.
At two different government forts, Fort Bridges and one other one all the men and boys of the train were lined up and had to take the oath of allegiance to the United States, which was done, I presume, to catch southern sympathizers or rebels who were leaving the south to escape the horrors of war.
Before we arrived at Salt Lake we passed through Echo Canyon or a deep gorge with high, almost perpendicular walls on either side and when we would speak or halloo it would echo from wall to wall and reverberate to our great astonishment.
After many long weeks we came to the famous city of Salt Lake and were directed to camp in what was called Union Square. Nearby was a feed corral were we bought feed for our stock while in the city.
We had hardly got our teams unhitched from the wagons until there were dozens of Mormon women with baskets full and bundles of vegetables trying to sell them to our people. They would trade for any kind of tin ware as there appeared to be quite a shortage of tin ware in the city. They would take most any kind of tin can and have it made up into some useful utensil. Many of the Mormons were dissatisfied with their lot among the Mormons and were seeking an opportunity to get away from the city on the quiet. A few made arrangements with some of the families in our train to secrete themselves in the wagons the evening before we left the city and, in that way, escaped from their enthrallment. They succeeded in their effort and got away. We left the city by driving through the south gate of the wall, and then a little way out along the road we crossed a small brook or branch which was only six or eight inches deep but had widened out to eight or ten feet where the road crossed and as our little dog, Penny, which had run on ahead of the teams, run through the water it made him yelp pretty loud and as we drove the oxen through it made them kick back and on examination we found the water to be quite hot.
We drove two or three days along the south side of the lake not far at any time from the beach and we noticed most all the time that there was a rather bad odor from the lake and that for several rods from the water there was a slick slimy mud. There were farms along the road, and we had trouble in getting good water. We would come to a farmhouse and we would ask them if they had some good water and they would say “Yes, certainly”, and direct us to a nearby spring. We would get some of the water and find it so salty that we could neither drink it nor use it in cooking. Coffee made of it we could not drink. Those people had become so used to it that they could not taste the salt. We drove around the north end of the lake and crossed Bear River and the next point to drive to was Thousand Springs valley which is the head waters of the Humboldt River. When we arrived there, instead of springs as we know them, there were holes two or three feet in diameter and two to four feet deep and very numerous. We had to be very careful, or we would go down in one of those holes. The water in those holes seemed to be alkali water. We then drove down the Humboldt until we came to the Sinks of the Humboldt. From the Sinks of the Humboldt, we drove ten miles or more and then came to what was then known as Truckee Desert. The weather was very hot, and we thought best to drive through as much of the desert as we could during the night. The first portion of the desert was a kind of chalk bed and our wagons over very easy. There was no vegetation but scattering sand thistles or nettles. We drove all night on this chalk bed and arrived at Hot Springs which I believe was called Steamboat Springs, about daylight. The water of those springs was very hot but we managed to find some pools where it stood for a while and had cooled so that our stock could drink a little of it.
From the springs after driving a short distance, our road led up a small sand hill and for five long miles we drove through coarse sand in which our wagon wheels would sink down from four to six inches, making it a dead pull for our teams which were all about fagged out as it was very warm. The sand was so hot that our little dog, Penny, would run from one bunch of sand nettles to the shade of another and yelp every jump.
After driving through this heavy sand about five miles we drove down a slight decline to a mountain stream which was the most beautiful sight it seemed to me that I ever beheld. We were all afraid to drink more than a sip of water at first as we washed our faces and bathed our heads and hands, and cautiously drank the water until we were back to our normal condition. We were afraid that large drafts of water would make us sick and with a few it did. This stream was called Truckee River and was right out of the snowbanks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
After resting up a few days we drove up the Truckee a few miles to Truckee Meadows in which there were a few settlers. The city of Reno is now located in Truckee Meadows. We then drove up the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains until we arrived at the summit which required three or four days. The road was grades cut in the mountain sides and we met hundreds of large freight teams coming over from the Sacramento Valley with freight for the Carson and Washoe mines which were just then being developed. The teams were mostly horse and mule teams with from four to six spans to each freight wagon and its trail or trails. Almost every team had bells like sleigh bells on the hames of each horse. The bells were attached to a metal bow that would arch over the top of each hame to the top of its mate and stand up a foot or more high. Those teams, when in motion looked fine. Each wagon had a chock block attached to a chain in a way that it would drag just behind one hind wheel of those big wagons so that in going up a steep hill or any hill and the driver wishes to rest his team for a minute or two he would stop and his chock block would prevent the wagon from running back down the hill or that the team would not have to hold the load but could slacken up in the harness and rest.
Every few miles through those mountains we would come to large taverns at the side of the road. They were made of hewed logs and chinked and dobbed with lime mortar and were well made and looked fine. Each tavern seemed to have a saloon and was well patronized. The timber in those mountains was pine and sugar pine and grew very tall. No underbrush to speak of. When we got to the summit of the mountains it took up about two days to get down to Sacramento Valley proper. In going down we passed through many small mining villages among others I remember one village called Yuba Dam.
Our next point was Marysville, located on the Feather River and when we arrived there, we found it quite a busy city or large town. There were hundreds of those large freight teams there, as it, at that time, was one of the nearest shipping points for over the mountains in Nevada. We crossed the river at Marysville to Yuba City, a small village, and then drove down below town and camped close to the river in a stubble field September 9th, 1863, where there was plenty of feed for our stock. There was an abundance of melons and fruits of most all kinds, especially peaches.
We remained in camp a few days and then father rented a farm eighteen miles above Marysville from a man by the name of George Lynch.
This concludes our long and tiresome journey from Illinois to California.
Our train, which was organized out a few miles this side of Omaha did not stay together but a few weeks and then split up into smaller trains. Some would like to travel a little faster and some slower. Then others would like to observe the Sabbath day and not drive until the next Monday morning. Others wished to lay by a day and do their laundry work, this would not suit others so they would drive on and leave some in camp. For fear that I may forget it I will make mention that I drove two yoke of oxen hitched to a thimble skein Schuttler wagon from Illinois to California and never missed a day or an hour on the entire trip at the age of sixteen. One yoke of the oxen were muleys, red and a black.
I now believe that a little hardship in the youth does the man good. It is bad medicine to take at the time, but a person learns a good many important lessons. Among others he learns the dimensions of a dollar, how long, how high, and how wide, and how hard to get and yet how easy to lose. He learns to respect the rights of other people.
When the train was large it was very interesting when it was camped of an evening as all different professions were represented--preachers, doctors, lawyers, as well as the different vocations--carpenters, blacksmiths, shoemakers, and musicians, fiddlers, etc., etc., some would be engaged in family worship, some would be arguing politics or religion, then a fiddler with his violin entertaining a crowd of young folks all setting around on the grass. Then perhaps another crowd being entertained by some expert with an accordion. Some were sick, some very sick, and I remember one funeral which was sad indeed.
The weather was warm, and we had trouble with the wagon tires getting loose and also the spokes in the hubs. To tighten the tires, we would get a strip of thin wood and back it all around on the felley then heat the tire in a circular fire and put it on again. For loose spokes we would take some old sacks or pieces of cloth and wrap stripes of it in and out, back and forth, between the spokes close to the hubs and then keep the cloth wet, and this would keep the spokes tight.
The feet of oxen would wear thin, so much so that they could hardly get along. Then they would have to be thrown down and tied and sole leather shoes screwed on, some would have iron shoes but not many.
In concluding this narrative of our Trip Across the Plains, I will say that while we endured quite a few hardships and were poor and hard up for several years, I believe that it was a good move looking at it from every angle. I believe that father prolonged his life by making the move, and Mother and Zeke and Jerry each got good farms.
I have heard it said that if you wished to know a man thoroughly, cross the plains with him and you would know him to dot. I believe that it is true. You will see him tried under most all circumstances and his good points as well as his bad points will show up in all their grandeur.
At Truckee Meadows we ran out of flour and father gave a man twenty dollars for a hundred pound sack and thought he was very lucky to get it for that price. At one time we came very near losing Mother as she was sick with Cholera Morbus.
In closing I will say that I would hate very much to make the trip again under like circumstances.
It has now been fifty-seven years since we made the trip and I have forgotten many incidents of the trip, but it is well to forget some things.
Salem, Oregon
June 20th, 1922
Stephen C. Stone
Corrections:
Grandmother Nancy Stone was buried at the Key’s cemetery between Weston and Athena, Oregon.
Margret Francis Stone married John Gilbert instead of William.
John Newton Stone’s name should have occurred in line twenty six between that of Alva Curtis Stone and Arminda Jane Stone.
INCOMPLETE LINEAGE OF THE STONE FAMILY
By S.C. STONE
Salem, Oregon June 20th, 1922
John Stone (My great-grandfather) was born in Carolina but date of birth and date of death I do not know. He had three sons that I know or have heard of. There may have been more sons and daughters but I never heard of them if they were. The son’s names were John, Jeremiah, and Stephen. John and Jeremiah located in Indiana and Stephen located in Hutton Township, Coles County, Illinois, but at time I do not know.
Stephen Stone (My Grandfather) was born March 8th, 1794, and died November 17th, 1853. He was a farmer and a veterinary also. He was quite a sociable, jovial man and had many friends. His home was a brick house at the junction of two highways that were traveled a great deal, five miles southeast of Charleston, Illinois. His place was called the Five Mile house, a way-side Inn. He was Justice of the Peace in his Township for several years. A neighbor by the name of Michael Coon and his wife contracted cholera during an epidemic in that country and grandfather went and nursed them until they died and then buried them. Grandfather died from an attack of pneumonia. He was a Universalist in his religious belief. Grandfather married:
Nancy Bewan (pronounced as O in our) October 20th, 1812. She was born February 3rd, 1793, and died August 16th, 1874 and was buried at the Weston, Oregon, cemetery beside my brother Alva O. Stone. Grandmother crossed the plains with us when she was 70 years old and stood the trip fine. She had a sister by the name of Peggy Bowen. Their father died when they were very young, and their mother married a man by the name of Fine and they had one child that I know of. They may have been others. This child was a girl named Christina Fine who, when grown, married a man by the name of Andrew Copple, who I remember seeing when I was a small boy. A son of theirs by the name of Simpson Copple lived at Hood River, Oregon. I believe that members of their family yet live at Hood River.
Grandmother’s sister Peggy married a man by the name of John Goodman, and they had a large family. Their oldest son was Thomas Goodman, a man who gained a good deal of notoriety as a preacher in the Christian Church in the state of Illinois. Another son was Dr. William Goodman, a botanic physician who made quite a reputation as a doctor in that country. He and my father being cousins, were together a great deal as they lived near each other, and each with a desire to know medicine, talk medicine, and study medicine naturally got into the business and each had a good practice in that country as there was quite a lot of fevers and malarial diseases. Dr. Bill Goodman, as they called him, got the gold fever in 1849 and started to California in the rush for gold in that year and died in the Plains with cholera. Another son of Peggy Goodman’s by the name of Joseph Goodman, lived not far from Walla Walla, Washington, and some members of his family I believe, yet live there.
One son of his lived in Yakima, Washington country and was engaged in the sheep business, and did very well I understand. A lady lives in Salem, Oregon, at this time by the name of Mrs. McCroskey who is the great-great-granddaughter of Peggy Goodman.
Grandfather and grandmother had ten children as follows:
Lucinda Stone, born September 3rd, 1814, died April 24th, 1840. She married John Houts and to them was born one girl, Eliza Houts, who, I understand is dead.
Elisabeth Stone, Aunt Betty, as we called her, was born September 9th, 1816, and died February 3rd, 1858. She was from early life afflicted with kyphosis or curvature of the spine. She never married. She was quite an intelligent lady, a great reader, and was well posted in the affairs of that day. She died one night (about the middle of the night) when she and grandmother were alone.
William Stone, Uncle Bill, we called him, was born November 23rd, 1818, and died December 22nd, 1862. His first wife was Armilda Rennels by whom he one child by the name of Warren Stone, who was a soldier in the Civil War. He contracted measles in the army and died. Aunt died a year a two after marring Uncle Bill. When Uncle Bill returned from the army, he married Grabilla Wilson, and by her had one or two children. The oldest was Windfield Stone who is dead. I believe there was a girl but do not remember the name. Aunt Grabilla died and after a year or two he married a lady by the name of Teets, but her given name I do not remember. By her he had two children. The boy was named Murray Stone who is a Baptist preacher and lives in Charleston, Illinois. The girl… I do not know her name…now lives in Iowa and has a good size family. Before Uncle Bill died, he asked his wife to send for a neighbor by the name of McMorris who was a carpenter, and when he came he told him to take his measure for a coffin as he thought that he would need one before long. McMorris made the coffin and brought it for uncle to inspect. He looked it over and asked him to push it under the bed as he would need it soon, which he did. He instructed the carpenter to make it out of walnut lumber. There was plenty of walnut in that country and it would make a very good coffin.
John Stone (my father) was born May 7th, 1821, and died March 9th, 1870. He died about five miles southwest of Walla Walla, Washington. He was buried at the Whitman cemetery not far from Walla Walla. This cemetery is where Dr. Marcus Whitman and twelve or thirteen others were buried who were massacred in 1847 by the Cayuse Indians. Father requested me to dig his grave six feet deep.
John Stone married Permelia Durham White, a daughter of Asa White. Her mother was Mary Lewis, a cousin of Major Levi Todd who was killed at Blue Lick, Kentucky. Slightly related to Mrs. Lincoln who was a Todd. Mary Lewis White died when mother was a baby. Mother was the youngest of the family and allowed to have her own way in some respects and so the family neglected to send her to school. When older she learned to read print but could not write. However, at the age of sixty-nine she learned to write a very good hand and wrote many letters to her children.
Mother had a brother, Silas White, a Baptist preacher who lived at Charleston, Illinois. He died there.
The children of John and Permelia D. Stone were as follows: S.C. Stone (me), E.H. Stone, Samantha (Stone) Gerking, Jeremiah Stone, Alva Curtis Stone (deceased), J. Newton Stone, Arminda J. (Stone) Tittsworth, Corelia (Stone) Maloney, and Alta A. Stone (deceased).
Jeremiah Stone, Uncle Jerry, we called him, was born August 2nd, 1823, and died July 1st, 1862. His first wife was Malralida Waltrip and by her he had six children---Ellen, Susan, William, Cass, Salem, Nancy, and Douglas, and all are dead except Case who lives near Westfield, Illinois and Douglas, whose address is not known. Uncle’s second wife was Jane Toland, and by her he had one or two children. She was one of the very best stepmothers to his children, couldn’t tell but she was the real mother to all of them. Uncle Jerry was a farmer and veterinary and was a Justice of the Peace in the Township for a number of years. He was a good manager and quite thrifty.
Susan Stone, Aunt Susan, was born August 21st, 1825, and died April 28th, 1911. She married Thomas Rennels. They had the following named children as well as I remember---Napoleon (deceased), Nancy, Harriet, Jane, Samuel, and two or three others whose names I have forgotten. Some of those that are alive live in Texas. Aunt died in Texas.
Margaret Francis Stone, we called her Aunt Frant, was born October 29th, 1829, and died April 24th, 1859. Her first husband was William Gilbert. He died a year or two after their marriage. In a few years she married David Watson, a grocery in Charleston, Illinois. By her first husband she had one boy, William Peny Gilbert, now living at Brooks, Oregon. By her second husband she had one child, Manda Watson, who now lives near St. Louis, Missouri.
Nancy Harriet Stone, we called her Aunt Harriet, was born December 26th, 1831, and died February 8th, 1908. She married Ezekiel Gilbert, a farmer and brick maker. They had children as follows---John Wesley Gilbert (deceased), Coleman Gilbert, Etty Gilbert, Hanigan Gilbert, and others, the names I do not remember. Uncle and Aunt are both dead but there may be some of the children living.
Napoleon Stone, Uncle Poley, we called him, was born December 3rd, 1836, and died November 23rd, 1910, at Smithville, Texas and was buried there. At the age of 20 years, he married Mary A. Connely. They had five children---M.G. Stone, Dr. W.W. Stone, A daughter M.E. Stone, H.L. Stone, and Nellie A. Stone.
About 12 0’clock noon he sat down in his room to read. While reading he apparently dropped off to sleep. About 12:30 he was called to dinner but as he made no reply his grandson went into his room and found that he was dead. Aunt died at Ellensburg, Washington. He was a farmer, Justice of the Peace, and Notary Public, and in early life was a schoolteacher. During the Indian depredations in northern Texas, he was a Texas Ranger.
David Kent Coy
123 North 20th Street
Decatur, Illinois 62521-2114