Mills of Long Ago
Ironton Register 14. Nov. 1895
For the Register.
B. F. C. has taken exception to some of my incidents and dates and discredits my wolf story. Well, for the benefit of B. F. C., I will say that the wolf story was related to me by the participant himself, James Lynd.
As to the Gillen Mill, I received a letter from Capt. E. F. Gillen, whose father built the mill and ran it for many years. He says his father with Isaac and Martin Frampton came to Burlington in 1820; moved to Symmes Creek in 1824, and proceeded at once to build the mill, and he says that it was the only one for years between Gallipolis and Portsmouth, and its patrons came from the entire country between those places.
Also, from the head of Symmes and Indian Creeks, and he had customers from both Big and Little Sandy Rivers. Guyandotte sent her patrons from far up that river at whose mouth Guyandotte is located; sent their corn and wheat to Gillen’s mill, and if the mills were as numerous as B. F. C. would have one to believe, why did they come to this one?
The mills to which he alludes are of the kind that Mr. David Nixon of your city” related to me not long ago.
He said that James Buffington, who owned and lived on a farm just below Proctorville, told him how Quaker Bottom got its name; that the farm which he then owned, once belonged to a Quaker, who was one of the earliest settlers in that part of the country, and on the farm was a small stream, a tributary to Indian Guyan, and that on the place the stream had a fall of about 10 feet, and he conceived the idea that he would utilize the power; so he made a chute for the water and got a stump which was hollowed out for the purpose and had a long pole put up like a mill sweep.
Instead of a bucket, he attached a sugar trough to the pole by two ropes of raw hide which was lowered into the water where the falls came down.
On the sweep or pole was a heavy piece of wood, made in the shape of a pestle, which when the trough filled with water and sank lifted the other end of the pole or sweep, and as soon as the trough sank to a certain distance, the force of the current overturned it when it arose and the pestle came down in and on the hollow stump where the ingenious Quaker had put his corn.
Then the trough was again filled, and the same process was gone over; and all that the good Quaker or his neighbors had to do was to put their corn in the hollow stump and go to their work, coming back when the corn was done.
The neighbors who used the good Quaker’s mill alluded to it as being on bottom land belonging to the Quaker, and Quaker’s Bottom was the result.
Capt. Gillen, also, informed me that his father’s home was the preaching place for the M. E. ministers for years, and the poor itinerant was gladly welcomed and the best set before him. One of his daughters married the Rev. Isaac C. Hunter (of whom I have written in a former letter.) The Gillen house and mill were known far and wide.
When I was a small boy, my mother” who was a Gillen, used to take me up to see grandfather and grandmother and it was a treat to go down to the mill and watch the process in which corn and wheat were converted into meal and flour.
Also, I sat and watched the swift gliding water as with great rapidity, it went down the race into the great wheel, which made the power that called the machinery into life. Then, to go and watch the surplus water, roll over the dam with a thunderous sound, with foam, reminded one of the surfs breaking on the shore of the distant sea.
In grandfather’s house, there was an old clock about six feet high, which we would stand and admire, being carefully warned to not touch it. The clock is now owned by my brother, Dr. D. C. Wilson of your city, and can be seen by anyone who will take the trouble to call. It will pay one for it is quite a curiosity.
In the front yard, at grandfathers at the time I speak of, they had something growing, which they called Jerusalem apples, and warned us, children, not to eat of them for they were poisonous, and I obeyed the command and have never tasted tomatoes to my knowledge in my life.
On the old farm which adjoined the mill was a vicious ram that took delight in making us boys run whenever we came into the field where he was; and it was great fun to see who could run across the meadow without his ramship overhauling him, as he was the terror of the neighborhood.
I will frankly admit to B. F. C. that I have an aversion to dates and many are the thrashings I received at school because, while I could give the events accurately, I could not tell whether it was before or behind the Christian Era, but if the good doctor forgives me, I will tell him another story before long.
G.
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