DOYLE TOWNSHIP

Following are excerpts from an article by Miss Mary Osmond, one time editor of the Osceola Sentinel, as it appeared in the July 30, 1959 issue. Doyle was settled in 1850. The name Doyle for the township, was selected by my own father, William R. Osmond, a merchant in Farmington, Van Buren County. He had succeeded in inducing a colony to settle in this area of southern Iowa. They were to throw their property together for a certain amount — $100 constituting a share. They were poor men. Few owned more than a share. They settled around Hopeville, a name chosen in Farmington before the colony left. Mr. Newton kept a store there after it became a town and was its earliest Postmaster, an office he held more than 20 years.

These pioneers saw hardships endured quite bravely by them and I daresay the children were as happy as others. At one time before wheat ripened or corn was hard enough to grind, the second summer, probably 1852, they all lived 10 days without bread. Nobody had money to buy anything, there was no town anywhere to go to, no place where stores or supplies of any kind were. They lived that time on beans and new potatoes, etc.

When the clothing wore out, it was patched. The women and girls wore dresses made of "domestic," that was unbleached heavy muslin gotten from the the month-apart peddler wagons run by Charles Cheney from Farmington. It was dyed with sumac, walnut bark, etc. To be good, it had to be washed before dying, so was worn a week or two white, then colored. Those who were too poor to buy domestic, cut up extra bed ticks they had bought. Living in cabins of one room required few ticks.

There were no doctors. If one was as ill as the people we send to hospitals, or get a doctor from Des Moines for, somebody went to Leon at breakneck speed and got Dr. Thompson. So the coming in among the new people of the Illinois veterinarian Dr. Jesse Emery, was a boon, and he fell inevitably into a practice that has never been excelled for success in the county. He was a kindly gentle man with wonderful common sense.

Bathing was not a common exercise. "Washing all over," as many termed it, didn't have to be done every week. But perspiration was free, for work was hard.

Horse stealing — oh, yes! It went on and there were vigilance committees and watching. etc. One great tragedy connected itself, I know not how, with it. One Jacobs, who may have known more about it than any honest man did, shot Dr. Lucas dead as he saw him approaching his home one brilliant moonlight night. Lucas was said to have been hunting Jacobs, pistol in hand, to shoot him before he could tell the vigilance committee what he knew and involve him. Heaven alone knows. Jacobs went to the penitentiary for it but was pardoned.

At an earlier day than this occurred, a murder in the southeast part of Doyle, Rood shooting a harmless young Irishman in a quarrel over cattle. A mob chased Rood into Decatur and buried him there.

There were no schools, but the children were nearing a time when something must be done. My father than whom no more active and willing and hard-working, brave pioneer never lived by his own hard licks, acquired an extra set of logs which were hauled up to add a room to the one-room log cabin already in use. This coming abundance — redundance of house room, had led to a plan that a school should be taught in it, in the daytimes for sturdy youngsters in the vicinity, principally by Mr. Gray, an uncle of Mrs. Cheney's. My mother, educated for a teacher in Pennsylvania, would help, too.

In passing I want to say, while there was the utmost freedom among the young people, such a thing as chaperonage being unheard of, and the older people bound by very few of the restrictions of polite society, any sin against the moral code was almost unheard of. Marriage was early— few girls reached 20 or young men 21 unmarried. Many were married and mothers at 16 and a family of 7 to 12 was the rule. Divorce, alienation of affection separation — dear no! They quarreled it out, grew friends again, died true to each other, those pioneers.

One of the greatest events was an Indian war which really was a ludicrous thing but a big scare. The Indians were few and peaceful. It began in Union and Ringgold (counties) where the people were not so good, and it was alleged a man who killed his brother for the same reason King David had Uriah slain, covered the deed by laying it on the Indians. Great time then, with families fleeing eastward among friends, and warriors enlisting, but no fighting.

All the meat at first was of deer and wild turkey or 'possum. Later, the colony possessed a few hogs. It butchered the last winter, and divided the meat. A man, his wife and three children becoming the happy possessor of half a hog for the winter supply. Attempting to raise wheat was one of the failures, but they did get some ground in the insufficient mill at Pisgah left by the Mormons when they wintered there. It was as much darker than graham bread as that to the white flour, and tasted mouldy. Cornbread was the stuff. Sugar and coffee were not used. Children never saw candy.

For a baptism, the minister stood about to his hips, a large hole was cut in ice from 6 inches to 2 feet thick with the chill water below. On the shore, the one to be baptized cast off wrap and headgear, generally her shoes, and assisted by strong hands, walked out on the ice, was lowered into that ice cold water, immersed by the preacher in full view of a congregation of all kinds on the shore, then drawn up, wrapped in a quilt, assisted to a house on the shore, or conveyed in a sleigh perhaps half a mile to one, where by a glowing fire she dressed in dry clothing, cheered and helped by the older members and went home happy for miles of riding, maybe. Nothing but severe, sudden illness postponed a baptism in those days for even a week. It is a matter of record that no one was ever made sick or hurt by it. Nowadays none of the outside wicked world ever sees a baptism. Hardly anyone does, for that matter, and it is an affair of warmed water in a retired baptistry I'm not saying it should not be, you know. I am recalling some of the pioneer trials, and this was one that confronted every woman if she was immersed, for there was a prevalent idea that not very much of a Christian waited till summer for it.

PIONEER HARDSHIPS NEAR HOPEVILLE IN 1851
From Osceola Sentinel— Undated

Hardships of early pioneers are illustrated in this tale of Benjamin Lamb and family, who settled west of Hopeville on Feb. 10, 1851, on a claim where a cabin had been built the preceding year. According to the story, a heavy snow fell the night following arrival of the family which consisted of the parents, 11 children and three nephews. A roof was put on the cabin and the family moved in.

Though their cabin was neither large nor elegant and was furnished with clapboard roof and puncheon floor, for years it was known far and near as a stopping place. It was not uncommon for 15 or 20 travelers to lodge with the family of 16 on a single night.

Crowded for room though they were, no one was turned away. It is related on one occasion when an extra large number of guests were to be accommodated, that they commenced to lie down on the floor at the side or the room farthest from the door and so continued until there was only room for the last man to find a resting place by shutting the door and occupying the place so secured.

It is stated by Mrs. Lamb that for six weeks in the summer of 1851, they lived entirely on hominy and venison and for the small children who could not eat hominy, bread was made from meal ground in a coffee mill.

All the sweetening the family had was wild honey, of which there was a bountiful supply, and for two years the only meat in the settlement was game, principally deer and wild turkeys which were very plentiful, four or five deer often being brought in at night by one hunter, the result of a single day's work.

With no sawmills, stores or other accessories of civilized life at hand, the few settlers were obliged to depend almost entirely on their individual resources, as illustrated in the following incident:

Late in the summer of 1850, a young man from Missouri, who was visiting friends at Winterset contracted a milarial fever. After a time he somewhat recovered, and much against the wishes of his friends, mounted his horse and started homeward. On arriving at Pisgah, he was again taken violently ill and died there.

There being no cabinet makers or sawmills in the settlement, what to do for a coffin was the question. Search was made among all the cabins for long roof clapboards, but none of sufficent length was found.

A second search for puncheons was then made with no greater success, and as a last resort, some of the Mormons went into Grand River bottomland and hewed green cottonwood boards from which they made his coffin, and gave the stranger a decent burial.

HOPEVILLE
From the writings of the late Dorothy Jones in "Historic Hopeville and Vicinity 1850-1982"

This is the official story of Hopeville but there is another based on legend and mystery. This pictures Hopeville as a robust, hell-for-leather frontier town where anything could happen and usually did. Legend says it was the northern terminus of a horse stealing ring that "spirited" horses down the Grand River valley to the mysterious cave near the present site of the town of Grand River and on to Terra Haute in southern Decatur County where "experts" altered the markings on the horses and then took them on to St. Joseph, MO horse markets.

The immigration trail of many of the Ringgold pioneers took them along the ridge from eastern Iowa, down the Dragoon Trace. Hopeville was the last inhabited place they would see before entering virgin Ringgold County and it was their principal trading center from 1953-1958.

Down at Farmington in Lee County, in 1850, a group of pioneers were making plans to establish a communal colony. They were a varied group ranging from religious fanatics to free thinkers, but they all felt that by joining their efforts, they could make much greater progress than as individuals. The name of the colony was to be Hopewell and it was to be located on southwest Clarke County on the high ridge east of Thompson's Fork at Grand River.

Shortly after they arrived, it was discovered there was already a post office by the name of Hopewell in Mahaska County, so the name of the colonly was changed to Hopeville.

Can you imagine how Hopeville must have looked to the casual visitor in the 1850s? The buildings were probably either log or slab constructed, the people on the streets might include Chief Wanwoxen or some of his tribe, which were camped in what is now Section 34, Pleasant Township, Union County. The braves, no doubt, were interested in decorations, guns or traps while the squaws cast longing glances at the red and blue calico on the merchant's shelves. The storekeeper would keep a watchful eye on the activity of their customers while grumbling, "Them injuns will steal anything they can get their hands on."

In January 1896, the Osceola Sentinel said: Hopeville is wonderfully excited over the propects of getting two railroads, one from Sious City via Winterset, Thayer, and Hopeville on to St. Louis. This is to be a standard gauge cable track State Railroad. The route has been viewed and pronounced practicable. The papers of incorporation will be filed as soon as the company gets their franchise, the route will be surveyed and the work on the grade will begin as soon as spring opens up. The other road is to be a Motor from Creston to Arispe on the Osceola via way of Hopeville and Lacelle. Those who want to buy Hopeville property had better do so at once as property had already advanced 25% and the boom has just begun. For 30 years we have been living between hope and fear, hoping for a railroad and fearing it would not come. How gratifying — even in our old age and declining years, to think that our fond hopes are about to be realized.

By August 1906, it was apparent that the railroad would not come. Moreover, it appeared that Hopeville might even lose its post office. There remained only the hope that an interurban might come. A news commentator said, "The town of Hopeville, historic spot of Clarke County and at one time one of the most prosperous towns in this part of the state, is apt to lose its postoffice. The people of the town are very much disappointed at the news, and efforts will be made to maintain the office."

The oldest house in Hopeville was built in 1946, located one block west of the southwest corner of the park. It was the old Daniel's property, which stood until about 1970.

(Although the following came along later in the development of the County), history would not be complete without mentioning the Peddlers who made their living by peddling their wares through the countryside. One such well know Peddler was a meat wagon which came out of Hopeville. It peddled fresh beef and pork from a butcher shop in Hopeville. The owners, the Colwells, also ran an ice house. Others dispensed eyeglasses, bolts of material from calico, muslin and satin, ribbons, and threads. Then there were the spice peddlers, medicine men, tea and coffee and dishes. There was the McNess Wagon selling liniment and salves; and the Raleigh man who drove a Model T pick-up with the big box behind.

Dorothy asked, "How many times were you threatened by your mother, that if you were not good, the Gypsies would come and take you away? They were a breed all their own, traveling in groups first with teams and wagons — some very fancy wagons completely enclosed. The women were flashily dressed, with bright colored turbans and large hooped earrings, beads and very dark long hair. They were con-artists with men, and while they were flattering his ego, the gypsy men were stealing the money out of the till, and wares from the shelves. They stole chickens and eggs from farmers along the route. They had no homes, except their wagons, doing most of their traveling during warm weather, camping in one area during the winter months. This was not just in American, it was world-wide. Old Umphrey Jones used to tell about the Gypsies in Wales, and how they would stop along the road, filling sacks with grains. They were as much a part of our heritage as Indians and the immigrants. Their young girls were trained early in life to be pickpockets and they were good at it. In general, they were horse-traders, minstrels and fortune-tellers."

MEMORIES OF HOPEVILLE
Excerps from pages written by Carolyle Morton Culver

Hopeville was the oldest town in Clarke County, having started in 1850. Clarke County was laid out and organized in 1850-1851. At that time there were 7 houses in Hopeville, five in Osceola. Hopeville was first elected to be the county seat but Osceola was chosen because it was nearer the center of the county.

The people of Clarke County were very patriotic and in 1861-62, they furnished 432 men for the war, in excess of their quota of 175 men.

In the early days, there were no trees growing in the county. The people thought it was too cold to grow trees, especially fruit trees. Almost all farm fences were made of split rails. Some planted a kind of hedge that made quite large trees and had long thorns on them. When planted close together, no stock could get through. Barbed wire fences were not known there until in the 1870s.

I remember well the great snow storms we had — the wind would drift the snow over the fences, then thaw a little, then freeze and we could drive a team over the drifts and fences. Children had great fun digging snow houses undeer the drifts, and coasting on our sleds down the big drifts. My! But it was cold! In the winter of 1887-88, we had just such a snow storm. We drove to Hopeville from our farm 3 1/2 miles southeast over the fences on top of the drifts.

In 1872, a new 2-story brick school house was built. We studied the McGuffy Readers from the 1st through the 6th grade; also McGuffy's arithmetic and speller. The first McGuffy's readers appeared in 1836, and were edited by William McGuffy. The McGuffy readers are among our best classics.

I well remember our old Methodist Church. It was built on a small hillside and faced the north — 2 doors, one for men and one for women. When a boy took his girl to church, he sat with her on the women's side. We all went to Sunday School and meeting in the morning and meeting at night.

I joined the church when I was 13 years old, and was baptized in Grand River. We also had a Christian Church. In the winter we all attended the protracted meetings. First one church would have their meeting, then the other. At the Christian Church, all who joined during the week were taken to Grand River to be immersed. Sometimes they would have to cut a hole in the ice, which was often 2 feet thick. The minister had a "helper" who got into the water with him and each convert was dropped into the water through the hole in the ice and put under. They always had a bob-sled which was drawn as close to the water as they could get. As the people came from the water, they were put in the sled and covered up. No one ever had any ill effects from the icy bath. We all stood on the river bank and sang "Shall we Gather at the River." The Methdoists converts were put on a 6-months probation and if they kept their vows, they were immersed in June.

When we children were small, on a Saturday evening, Father always brought home to us a small bag of stick candy. It was a big treat for us. We young people had good times in that small inland town, although we always had to make our own good times. We had taffy pulling parties with games afterward. We girls had carpet rag sewing parties. We tried to see who could sew the largest ball of rags in a given time then we had dinner and games.

In the fall, we children went with an older brother to gather black walnuts and hickory nuts — sometimes getting a wagon bed full. A neighbor man would take his family and Mother and us children in his wagon, and we all went to gather wild grapes. What fun it was! Then we went hazel-nutting. I'll never forget how I liked the smell of green hazel nuts.

The following was written by the son of William R Osmond:

In the fall of 185?, my father took a 2-horse team and wagon, and went to the sawmill for a load of lumber. Soon after leaving the mill, he saw a prairie fire of wide extent approaching. The road lay between the bluffs descending to Grand River on one side and some tributary creek on the other. For nearly a mile it was a straight line with a gradual downgrade. A prairie fire in tall, dry grass is not a single thin sheet of flame and smoke. Flames leap ahead and start other lines. The mat on the ground smoulders with heat and smoke and stifling gases behind those front lines. There was no escape to the right or left, nor by turning back. He had no match to start a back-fire. He must go through these roaring flames. He went to the beginning of the long straight incline and as the oncoming fire began to come up the incline, he stood up on his load of lumber and drove the horses into a full gallop. He knew they would try to stop just as they met the fire, but trusted the momentum of the load of heavy, swift-moving lumber to force them through. If either horse stumbled or was pushed down, he would be thrown, strangling, crippled. The horses tried to stop but could not. Neither of them fell. Father held his breath as they went through the flames and gases to avoid breathing them into his lungs, and came home with singed beard and hair.

The Indian "War"

Though the United States had "extinguished" the Indian rights to the region, the government had not compelled the Indians to remove, and bands of them still camped and hunted in the country around Hopeville for some years after the settlement of the colony. A considerable band of Pottawattamies and Muskokees (locally pronounced Musquakies) had a village across Grand River in Ringgold County.Though entirely peaceable, many of the white settlers in the surrounding country wanted to drive them out.

Two white men, living not far from this Indian camp, went out hunting one day in the summer of 185?, and only one returned. The other was found dead from a gunshot wound. The Indians were at once charged with the murder and an armed body of 100 or so men gathered near their village within a few hours, and people fled from their homes and unfinished harvest fields in all the region around. A few, however, stayed. Among them my father, and one night our yard was full of wagons and campers fleeing from the murderous savages.

The Indians asked for a little time to call in their hunters, nearly all were away. When these came, the "captain" of the whites demanded that the Indians give up their arms, which the Indians refused to do. It began to look warlike. A man living near Hopeville, William Prior, knew a number of the principal Indian men, had associated with them and eaten in their wigwams. He restrained the impetuous valor of the whites and counseled the Indians to avoid a conflict, which would be in large part, a killing of women and children. If my memory is correct, they finally gave up their arms. There was no war. In time, the United States government sent a military escort to take the Indians and locate them on their own lands.

HOPEVILLE CHURCHES
Hopeville Christian Church

As early as the beginning of the year 1856, the unorganized Christians of Hopeville met whenever a preacher could visit them. Generally meeting in an old log school house, standing one block east of the present school house, About this time Dr. Emery built a house of considerable size and the place of worship was changed to his residence.

The first church building was erected in 1860. The ministers who faithfully served the church and endeared themselves to the people during the next 50 years were Rev. John White, J.P. Roach, R.D.Cotton, J.K. Cornell and O. Ebert.

In January 1894, Rev. Fred Gime of Arlington, Iowa, held a church meeting which resulted in much and lasting good to the church. It could be said that the foundation of the new church was laid at that time. Roy Shields, then a boy of 14, along with many others gave himself to the Master and dedicated his life to His service.

In the spring of 1909, the church being without a pastor, called LeRoy Shields who had now grown to manhood and prepared himself for the ministry. After some deliberation, he accepted the work and entered into it with zeal and an enthusiasm that was contagious. Early in the year, Brother Shields had a vision of a new house of worship and began to agitate it among the brethren. After securing their hearty cooperation, a committee was soon at work securing means and laying plans for the new building. The church was dedicated February 13, 1910.

HOPEVILLE METHODIST CHURCH

The first Methodist Church was built in Hopeville in the early 1860s. The present building was built in 1904, and dedicated in November that same year on the present site on which it now stands. Rev. St. Clair came from Des Moines for the dedication.

After the church had decided on the building of a new place of worship, the ladies of the congregation got together and organized the Aid Society on March 1, 1904. The price for work was 75c a day. The Aid Society worked and helped with the building fund and also the furnishings of the church.

In 1982, this was the only church left in Hopeville and still quite active. The pastor of the church is Rev. Charles White from Creston, Iowa, who works during the week as a Real Estate Agent.

A large gathering still — in 2011— attends the annual Reunion.

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Last Revised February 3, 2015