Copyright USGenNet Inc., 2013, All Rights Reserved U.S. Data Repository Please read U.S. Data Repository Copyright Statement on this page: Transcribed and submitted by Linda Talbott for the US Data Repository http://www.us-data.org/ ========================================================================= U.S. Data Repository NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization. Non-commercial organizations desiring to use this material must obtain the consent of the transcriber prior to use. Individuals desiring to use this material in their own research may do so. ========================================================================= Formatted by U.S. Data Repository Chief Archivist, Linda Talbott All of the above information must remain when copied or downloaded. =========================================================================== A Memoir of the Late William Hodge, Sen. Bigelow Bros., Buffalo, N.Y. - 1885 (100-111) MY RECREATION -------- Of these I may say at once thatt my chief one was hunting. For I might almost say I was always a hunter. It is true that along with our day schools, we had also from time to time in winter, our spelling-schools and our singing-schools, which, while helping to improve us, were also a means of recreation. Then there were apple-parings, in winter, also. And though we did not, in those times, have Thanksgiving days for family gatherings, pic-nics and Sunday-school excursions, and summer jaunts in different direc- tions, yet the Fourth of July, election-days and training-days were always play-days for "us boys." And there was dancing, and there were balls. I, however, attended only one ball, and that was at the Eagle tavern, at the close of our dancing school, taught by a Mr. JENNINGS, for one winter, in or about 1821. The only dancing I have ever done was what I did that winter, at that school. Among the recreations, however, which were also educational, was, at two different times, in my boyhood and youth, the Debating Society. Of this I find among my papers a little relic, being part of a rhymed argument upon one of the questions discussed. The disputants were: Mr. MANN, CALEB GILLETT, SELDEN LUCAS, ZERAH AVERILL, WILLIAM T. MILLER, MILO LUCAS, BENJAMIN HODGE and VELORUS HODGE. The question before the Society was: Which has been of the greatest benefit to mankind, the Printing Press or the Magnetic Needle (Mariner's Compass)? After the arguments of a number on each side had been given, Mr. GILLETT arose and presented his in, some expressive lines, of which I once wrote out from menmory the following: " What say you, boys, does this not beat the devil? For paltry types we are to lose our needle; And, after all this mighty fuss and rumpus, For types and presses to give up our compass! Ye fair, we wish you'd fairly think upon it, Nor change your Bible for a Leghorn bonnet; We wish you well, —and would be your protector, So, be the North Star, Virtue, your director; Let Modesty supply the needle's place, And guide your steps to social love and peace. That, with straight eyes, our lands we can survey. And draw bee lines,' —this our opponents say; But, since we don't pretend that we are witches, 'T were tedious drawing lines for our big ditches." It is interesting to note the reference here, to the "Leghorn bonnet" of those days, —the "height of the fashion," and an expensive luxury for the ladies; —and the then exciting and important subject of the surveys for the Erie canal, Gov. CLINTON'S "big ditch" as it was often called. But, as I have said, of my recreations the chief was always hunting. So the most of this paper is devoted to this subject. I can with truth say that there was no white person who ranged through the woods and over the ground around Buffalo and Black Rock, from 1819 to about 1835, more than myself. There were but few acres of the forest land in this immediate vicinity that I did not travel over very many times. To be in the woods with my gun was my delight, for there game was always be found. Twelve years or so ago I wrote a paper giving an account of my early experiences in this line. As I hope to have some young readers, I will give it here, with some additions, in a manner calculated to be interesting to them. It is entitled -- THE YOUNG HUNTER. —In very early childhood I began to be a hunter. The first gun I used was an elder pop-gun, with tow wads for ammu- nition. Children had not then the fine toy weapons for playing at hunting which now abound. Mine was not a very expensive one, but it was easily made, and answered my purpose as well as if its cost had been greater. With this gun I used to go around the house and shoot flies. This sport would not have added to the nice appearance of the plastered and papered wall of the house if in those times there had been such a thing. But when I was a boy we had no plastered walls in our houses; the plastering was done only between the logs, outside and inside, —the inside being whitewashed every year. The next piece I used was what is usually called a cross-bow, or cross-gun. I need not describe it, as it is so well known among boys. This was quite an instrument of warfare against birds and chipmucks. They suffered considerably at the hands of the boys; yet the suffering was generally more through fright than any very serious harm. The third kind of weapon I used was a more formidable one for killing game; it was the Indian bow and arrow. If I had been an Indian, I might have been a greater hunter than I have been, and I might even have been a great warrior. I always liked the Indians and their ways and habits, that is, so far as hunting is concerned; and I used to love to be with them, shooting squirrels with bows and arrows in summer and fall, and playing with them with the snow-snake in winter. This is quite a lively game, peculiar to the Indians, and not much practiced by the white people. The Indians were active, and could endure fatigue in walking or running, and were always pleasant and honest in their playing. By the bow and arrow the birds and squirrels suffered most. I frequently killed chipmucks and sometimes birds. The Indians used to kill very many squirrels as well as birds with their bows and arrows. In shooting at birds I would always make the feathers fly. I once killed a woodchuck with a bow and arrow. It was a fair, open shot, at a distance of about four rods, and was effective and fatal. The arrow hit him on the side of his head, and he keeled over and sprawled out immediately, dead. At this time I sometimes borrowed my uncle's shot-gun, which was of the sort called a "Chief's piece," from its having on the stock, back of the lock, a silver plate representing an Indian's head; but the fourth piece I regularly used was an old American musket. I say American, because there was quite a difference between American and British muskets. The bore of the latter carried an ounce ball, the former was of smaller bore, suiting us young hunters better because they required less ammunition; and that was something important to be considered on account of our limited means of procuring powder and shot. And here I will tell how at one time I managed the matter of get- ting lead for use in making bullets, etc., for my firearms. This was during the War of 1812-15. In June, 1812, the news had come of the declaration of war between Great Britain and the United States. I well remember the day when the news came, for I had been out that day with SAMUEL WARD COTTON to the home of his uncle Rowland Cotton, on The Plains, strawberrying with his cousin LESTER W. COTTON. In December we moved into the Brick Tavern, and occupied it one year, 1813, when it was burned by our enemies. During this year it had become quite a chief object with me to accumulate lead for my hunting purposes. But we boys did not have much money to spend. Our playthings were few, and we had to look out and provide for ourselves the most of what we wanted for our amusements, especially in preparing for our hunting by making our own pop-guns, cross-guns and bows and arrows. When we had grown large enough to use guns that required powder and shot, we used to get the powder the best way we could, that is by earning money to buy it. But the shot we could not afford to buy; and, since we could, we did, manufacture them ourselves. This was what I did, and this was the way. As the war went on many soldiers were stationed here, and a large amount of powder and lead was brought here, and our soldiers, when off duty, fired their muskets at marks on stumps and trees. I chopped and dug the lead balls out of the places where they had lodged, and pounded them with a hammer on the head of an axe or on a flat-iron, into long square rods or bars, about the thickness of the size of the shot to be made, then with a knife I cut this leaden rod into square bits, and laying them on the floor or some hard board rolled them with the iron shovel into a round shape. In this way I made pretty good shot, but it cost some labor to do it. Indeed boys of that day had to work for everything they had. Now in the course of the year 1813 I had managed to accumulate quite a number of these little bars, which were something of a treasure. But towards the close of the year I heard the people talking about the British coming over, and saying that we would have to go away. So, as I did not want to lose my little store of lead, I procured a small box, six or eight inches square, which had contained Venetian red lead, and had a sliding cover, into which I put my bars, and buried the whole in the garden. And, sure enough, when we did have to go away, at the time Buffalo was attacked and burned, that box and its contents remained safe; and I dug it up in the spring of 1814. Before I say more about hunting with guns, I will tell you a little about trapping. In the fall of 1814, one of my uncles had a quail-trap set in the wheat-stubble, to catch pigeons. I was commissioned to look after it; and when I found but a single pigeon in the trap, I was to take it out, set the trap again, and bring the pigeon home, alive. Towards evening, when I was going after the cows, I came to the trap and found one pigeon in it. I had begun to feel chilly, and even to shake with the cold. I put my hand into the hole in the top of the trap, and with much trouble got hold of the pigeon and took it out. Then I undertook to re-set the trap, but soon gave it up. It was very difficult for me even to hold the pigeon, I was shaking so hard with cold. I started on after the cows, but had not gone far before the pigeon got out of my hand and flew away. I drove the cows home, and was very glad to get into the house, I was so cold. When I was in, our folks, seeing me shaking so hard all over, said I had the ague; and it was true, though I had not known it. It was not, however, a strange thing; for in those early times of the settlement of Buffalo, there were many cases of fever-and-ague here. After the ague I had the fever; and the following day, just as the ague was again coming on, they gave me, according to the standard prescription of those days, the usual dose to "break the fits." This consisted of about half a gill of whiskey and gunpowder —suitable surely for a young hunter, I mean the gunpowder only—well stirred together. After taking this for a few days the ague-fits were "broken" and I was well again, without the necessity of my father's paying a large doctor's bill. So in this trapping exploit, I caught— a pigeon, which got away, and—the fever- and-ague which also took its flight under the treatment administered. But, later, I did have and use successfully a quail-trap of my own, and my steel fox-trap. With the latter I sometimes caught seven or eight red and cross-gray foxes during a winter and spring, besides any number of pole-cats or skunks, which I did not desire. Then we used also to catch raccoons, with our dogs, going out in the evening into the cornfields; and I have helped to catch " 'coons," not many rods from the spot on which I now reside. In some years immense numbers of pigeons flew over this region. I sometimes saw flocks so large and thick that they would hide the sun from sight like a dark, heavy cloud. Before and after 1820, many pigeons were caught about here in nets; selling, when plenty, for 12 1/2 cents per dozen, —when scarce, for 25 cents. But, now, — to come again to my hunting experience with the weapons I have named, and others — I spent in this much of my leisure time, and very likely much time when I ought to have been at work. However this may be, when I got that old musket I used to hunt and kill squirrels, partridges, quail, blackbirds, pigeons, hawks, owls, ducks and many other kinds of game. In a year or two after, while I was still using this, my father bought me a smooth-bore straight-cut rifle, of a man who brought it from Pennsylvania. With this I thought myself well provided for shooting game. Not long afterwards, however, I learned about the twisted-cut or spiral-bore pieces, and that these were much better; and I bought one of Mr. SILL, who was one of the first gunsmiths in Buffalo. With this I began to kill deer, as well as the smaller creatures. They were quite plenty here, in those days. I have killed in all say a baker's dozen of them, about half the number within the present limits of Buffalo city, several near my present residence. I have seen them on our lot between Delaware and Main streets. Three crossed the road within a few rods of my father's house, in one winter. One morning I saw one standing in the field, near where our school-house No. i6 is located. I never assassinated a deer with a gun or the oar of a boat, after it had been chased and driven into the water by hounds, as is fre- quently done. I think it is unfair to kill deer when in the water, or when there is an icy crust on a deep snow. I always shot deer running, standing, or lying down; and always in the woods, except in one instance, when I started a deer in an open chopping. He was running from me, rather quartering, and I drew up my rifle and shot, when he was sixteen or eighteen rods away. He made but one jump after the crack of the piece, and fell. But I ought to say that, after all, this hunting was not very profitable, since our market for game was limited, and prices were very low. Venison, for instance, could be bought of the Indians for sixpence (6-1/4 cents) per pound, for the hams. One of my encounters with deer was, however, somewhat peculiar, and I will here give a description of it, as I wrote it out fifteen or eighteen years ago. I named it -- MY DEER STORY. —In the winter of 1831-1832 we were chopping and hauling wood from the east part of farm-lot No. 30, about where Prospect street crosses between Best and North streets. At this time this lot was mostly covered with timber. The old Cayuga road (now Best street) turned from where Jefferson street now crosses it, passing over the hill through the chestnut woods, and down to Main street near the old red tannery of ERASTUS GILBERT, or about opposite where Allen street comes into Main. Our "man," PATRICK ROACH, was chopping and splitting wood, and I, with our ox-team and sled, was hauling the wood to our brick-yard on Main street, near Utica. I had driven my oxen near to the place where PATRICK was at work, and I left them standing in the road, and walked back into the woods four or five rods, to the spot where he was. S. K. GROSVENOR'S blood-hound had been "giving tongue" some time, east of us, and, as I could but faintly hear his voice, he must have been a long distance away. After standing there a short time, I saw a wild deer coming up the sleigh path, at a leaping gallop. His tongue protruded, and he showed every sign of being very much fatigued. I exclaimed to PATRICK, "See! there is a deer coming!" He looked up with an expression of great surprise and wonder, and said "And sure there is; —and shall I stop him? " Of course, considering his idea of stopping a wild deer on the run an absurdity, but willing to play a practical joke, as I supposed it would be, upon the Irishman, I said to him, "Yes, PATRICK, run out and stop him." He dropped his axe, and ran very quickly through the bushes into the road. As soon as the deer saw him, sure enough he did stop, and stood still, about five rods from him, without moving a foot. I immediately walked out near to the place where PATRICK was standing, the deer remaining perfectly quiet. I crossed the road into an open space of ground beyond -the man, and then walked till I was opposite to the deer, expecting however, every moment, that he would leave us. It occurred to my mind after I had reached the latter position, that we had the creature as "the Paddy" would say, completely "surround- ed." Very thick underbrush and woods were on his right; I, with my ox-whip, was on his left; PATRICK was facing him in front; and the blood-hound, although still far off, was coming nearer from a hearing distance in his rear. Was there ever, it might well be asked, a wild deer more completely "surrounded" than he? There PATRICK and I had him all to ourselves, with no one to interfere or trouble us in se- curing the beautiful animal. All there was now left for us to do, was, it seemed, to take possession of this noble creature, either alive or dead, as should appear most practicable to us, all the circumstances considered. PATRICK, on his side, stood his ground bravely, in glowing excitement, and, with true Irish enthusiasm, feeling perfectly sure that he would not let the creature pass him. We did not stop to talk the matter over, and arrange a plan of operations; but each one took the course he supposed was best in order to accomplish our wish to secure the deer. As, however, neither of us had a hunting weapon, —gun, pistol, spear, or lasso, —I, with my ox-whip in hand (which consisted of a good split hickory stock, about four feet in length, with a lash) began cautiously to approach the fellow. He meanwhile eyed me very sharply, as much as to say, "What are you going to do about it?" But as I slowly drew nearer, he began to lower his head, keeping his glistening eyes steadily fixed on mine. The closer I came to him, the lower he bowed. But not knowing, of course, what the re- sult of this encounter might be, within the next half-minute, I con- cluded that if he should let me come near enough, I would knock him on the head with the butt of my whip, which I still held by the handle. So, still keeping my eyes fixed on those of the deer, I changed ends of my whip, to be ready for this sort of an assault; and in the meantime kept moving slowly and very carefully towards him. Warily measuring the distance between us with my eye, when I had approached within the proper distance from which to give him a fair and sure death-blow on his bowed head, now lowered almost to the ground, I raised my whip-stock, and with my utmost dexterity, and a determined will, and with my full might and strength, I gave the decisive blow. The next moment, that noble and beautiful animal with his splendid and most graceful limbs, and his sleek head and body, which had stood before me, perfect in all his parts, and in full possession of his wild, free forest-life, was stretched high in the air on a leap for life; and then was off, fleetly distancing his assailants. After all my determination, calculation and care, he had dodged my blow, and, as it seemed to me, was ten feet from the ground, on a bounding leap. This he followed up with a magnificent series, lofty, long and grand; so that he seemed rather to be flying than running from us. And he was out of sight in a very few moments. PATRICK was as if spell-bound with amazement, seeming completely lost in wonder. Presently, recovering a little, he exclaimed, "And sure, we didn't get him! But wasn't he a darlint iv a deer! I niver saw the loike before in all me life!" The fugitive took a course directly south through the woods, to- wards the lake; with "the Hydraulics" and PRATT'S ferry in range, on a line a little west of where Prospect street now runs. Soon after the deer and we had parted company so suddenly and, to us, so unexpect- edly, but for him, so splendidly, the hound came along, on the deer's track. He moved with the long, loping gait, characteristic of the blood-hound, "giving tongue" every other leap he made. He paid not the slightest attention to us, being fully intent on overhauling the deer, and keeping his nose closely to his track. He was a little bothered when he passed the place where the deer had been standing, as it had there turned off on another course. But, making a circuit. He struck the trail again and on he went with the well-known energy and deter- mination of his kind. We watched him till he was out of sight, and listened till he was out of hearing. I suppose he followed the fleeing creature to the lake, as that was the last and only effectual resource of the deer when chased by blood-hounds. I heard nothing of the lost animal after this. The hound was at his home the next day, however, all right, only somewhat lamed and tired from his long chase. And so ends my story about the deer. I was thankful afterwards that I did not kill him ignobly, with the butt-end of my whipstock. I close these Reminiscences with a short paper on--- SHOOTING-MATCHES. —When the regular twisted-cut rifles began to be used in Buffalo, the man who could hit a turkey off-hand at twenty rods, and not make the trial too expensive at sixpence a shot, was considered a great marksman. STEPHEN K. GROSVENOR, ESQ., JOSEPH CLARY, Esq., and FREDERICK B. MERRILL were the first and the only ones who tried it with reasonable success. There were others who would undertake it at a rest, at twenty-five rods, but most would make this quite too expensive sport and give it up. I did not at first shoot at turkeys, but practised with my rifle in shooting squirrels and other game, and besides this, shooting at a mark. I soon became quite expert with my rifle, and began to try the turkeys, off-hand, at twenty rods, with very good success. Others also so improved in marksmanship that owners would not put up turkeys for us at less than twenty-five rods distance, off-hand, and thirty rods, at rest. But I never would practice shooting on a rest, let the distance be what it might, but always shot off-hand. As time passed on, riflemen increased in numbers, and some became excellent shots, —so much so that the distance from which we had to shoot at the turkeys was made thirty-five rods off-hand, and forty at rest. I have shot many chickens at twenty-five rods distance, paying three cents for each shot. I have also shot at a ring two inches in diameter at the distance of ten rods, paying sixpence a shot, and being entitled to fifty cents when I hit the ring. It requires a good marksman to do this with success. But I never found my equal with the rifle in my early days. About the year 1825 I joined the first uniformed Company had in Buffalo, the "Rifle Company." While I was a member of this, a nice rifle was furnished by the officers, to be given to the one who made the best shot in the whole Company, officers and all. To shoot for this rifle, we marched out the village into an open lot which was situated about where North Pearl street enters Allen. There each of the riflemen had one shot at a mark painted on a board, at the dis- tance of about ten rods, off-hand. Most of the Company had made their shots before I was called out, when I stepped forward, and cracked away; and when the mark was examined there was a shout, —for I had got in ahead of all the rest. At another subsequent time there were three powder-flasks furn- ished to be shot for. I won one of them, but gave it to the one who made the next best shot, as I had taken the rifle before. This, rifle I now have. I made it a present to my brother, PHILANDER, and he used it; and when his son AUGUSTUS had grown up he gave it to him, and he used it a number of years, when he died; and a few years later my brother died, and subsequently his widow gave it back to me,—it having till then been out of my hands forty years or more. ===========================================================================