The first settlers of the county were principally of New England origin, and emigrated from Washington county, which lies above. From one of these, now (1846) residing in the county, we have received a communication illustrating pioneer life:
People who have spent their lives in an old settled country can form but a faint idea of the privations and hardships endured by the pioneers of our new, flourishing and prosperous State. When I look on Ohio as it is, and think what it was in 1802, when I first settled here, I am struck with astonishment and can hardly credit my own senses. When I emigrated I was a young man, without any property, trade or profession, entirely dependent on my industry for a living. I purchased sixty acres of new land on credit, two-and-a-half miles from any house or road, and built a camp of poles seven by four feet, and five high, with three sides, and a fire in front. I furnished myself with a loaf of bread, a piece of pickled pork, some potatoes, borrowed a frying-pan and commenced housekeeping. I was not hindered from my work by company; for the first week I did not see a living soul, but, to make amends for the want of it, I had every night a most glorious concert of wolves and owls. I soon (like Adam) saw the necessity of a helpmate and persuaded a young woman to tie her destiny to mine. I built a log-house twenty feet square - quite aristocratic in those days - and moved into it. I was fortunate encough to possess a jack-knife; with that I made a wooden knife and two wooden forks, which answered admirably for use to eat with. A bedstead was wanted; I took two round poles for the posts, inserted a pole in them for a side-rail, and two other poles were inserted for the end pieces, the ends of which were put in the logs of the house - some puncheons were then split and laid from the side-rail to the crevice between the logs of the house, which formed a substantial bed-cord, on which we laid our straw bed - the only bed we had - on which we slept as soundly and woke as happy as Albert and Victoria.
In process of time, a yard-and-a-half of calico was wanted; I started on foot through the woods ten miles to Marietta to procure it; but, alas! when I arrived there I found that, in the absence of both money and credit, the calico was not to be obtained. The dilemma was a serious one, and how to escape I could not devise; but I had no sooner informed my wife of my failure, than she suggested that I had a pair of thin pantaloons, which I could very well spare, that would make quite a decent frock; the pants were cut up, the frock made, and in due time the child was dressed.
The long winter evenings were rather tedious, and in order to make time pass more smoothly, by great exertion I purchased a share in the Belpre library; six miles distant. From this I promised myself much entertainment, but another obstacle presented itself - I had no candles; however, the woods afforded plenty of pine knots - with these I made torches by which I could read, though I nearly spoiled my eyes. Many a night have I passed in this manner till twelve or one o'clock reading to my wife, while she was hatchelling, carding or spinning. Time rolled on, the payments for my land became due, and money, at that time in Ohio, was a cash article; however, I did not despair. I bought a few steers; some I bartered for, and others I got on credit - my credit having somewhat improved since the calico expedition - slung a knapsack on my back and started alone with my cattle for Romney, on the Potomac, where I sold them, then travelled on to Litchfield, Connecticut, paid for my land and had just $1 left to bear my expenses home, six hundred miles distant. Before I returned I worked and procured fifty cents in cash; with this and my dollar I commenced my journey homeward. I laid out my dollar for cheap hair-combs, and these, with a little Yankee pleasantry, kept me very comfortably at the private houses where I stopped till I got to Owego, on the Susquehanna, where I had a power of attorney to collect some money for a neighbor in Ohio.
I might proceed and enumerate scenes without number similar to the above, which have passed under my own observation, or have been related to me by those whose veracity I have no reason to doubt; but from what I have written you will be able to perceive that the path of the pioneer is not strewed with roses, and that the comforts which many of our inhabitants now enjoy have not been obtained without persevering exertions, industry and economy. What, let me ask, would the young people of the present day think of their future prospects, were they now to be placed in a similar situation to mine in 1803? How would the young miss taken from the fashionable, modern parlor, covered with Brussels carpets, and ornamented with pianos, mirrors, etc., etc., manage her spinning-wheel in a log-cabin, on a puncheon floor, with no furniture except, perhaps, a bake-oven and a splint broom? - Old Edition
The pioneer, who in 1846, supplied me with the foregoing sketch of his experiences also supplied me with what follows upon the early history of Pomeroy, and at this late day here give him credit. He was Amos Dunham, then an old man, and he was my host while here. Originally from Connecticut, he had that marked pronunciation then almost universal in the rustic regions of New England, which has disappeared entirely from every place - a sort of indescribable singing nasal tone, an inheritance from their ancestors in the rustic regions of Old England. Mr. Dunham possessed good native shrewdness and I recall his memory with pleasure. Would like much once more to hear some of that old-style talk with its odd expressions and drawling, lingering tones, the speech of other days. But nobody living can display this now departed accomplishment of the fathers - "more's the pity."