Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1876-04-27
A GRANDMOFHER'S STORY.

URAtDMOEHERS STORY.
THE following story is strictly anthem
tic, as recited by one Of its heroines,
Grandmother Tomlinson, and phono-
graphically reported as it fell from her
lips.
The incident occurred in 1882 at Bry-
ant, Ky, now station on the Kentucky
Central Railway, few miles from Lex
ingtOn, but then st0ckade for defense
against the Indians. There were forty or
fifty families occupying log cabins built
near together, and surrounded by fence
OF logs, called a stockade A stockade
was made by digging a deep, narrow
ditch, and then planting in it large, long
logs, upright and tight together, and fill
ing il the soil around them. Such a fence
was fifteen OF twenty feet high, and an
efficient ratification when the enemy
had no cannon with which to destroy it.
1t was built with crooks or angles, called
bastions, and was pierced with many port
holes, through which those inside could
discharge their rifles at a foe outside.
At one point was a huge gate of LOGS,
swinging on great wooden hinges, which,
when closed was as strong as any part of
the walls
The people living in Bryant stockade
were farmers, and around their wooden
fort lay their beautiful farms, covered at
the time of this story with corn and other
growing crops.
a nd
we are ready fer the story. Grandmother
Tomlinson's life began in Western Penn
sylvania ten years before the Declaration
Of independence, or, as she used to say,
9 before the first Fourth Of july and
closed in Kentucky when she was above
ninety years Of age. At the recital of this
incident she was sweet old LADY the
soul of piety and truth. and almost wor-
SHIPPED by all who knew her
In the spring of 1882, when she was
nearly sixteen, her parents, with several
younger children, removed from Penn
sylyania to Bryant. 1t would be interest
ing, if we had space, to copy her account
Of the journey In rough flat boat down
the Ohio River to Maysville, and thence
on horseback some sixty miles across the
wild country to their new home.
Those were perilous times on the from
tier; the Indians, melted by British
agents, waging fiercer war against the
settlers than anything in the Atlantic
States about which SO many Centennial
words are used in these days Kentucky
was aptly styled ''the dark and bloody
ground"
Now for Grandmother TomlInson's
story:
1t was the morning of the 18th of
August, just a week after my birthday
( Most of the night mother and / had been
helping father mold bullets and prepare
for an early march with the garrison to
Hoys stockade, near which Capt. Holder
had recently been defeated by the Indi-
ans. Little did we imagine that nearly a
thousand warriors were gathering then
in the fields and woods about US, eager
for our scalps.
At early dawn all the men in the stock
ade paraded with their guns and accou-
terments, and food enough for four days
The women and children were all out to
say goodbye, and the gate was about to
be opened for their departure, when sud
denly on the back side of the stockade
there was heard the most unearthly noise
of guns and shouting and screaming, so
that many of the children began to cry
for fear
We all ran to the picketing and saw
through the portfolios party of thirty or
forty Indians standing among the corn,
brandishing their tomahawks, firing guns
and yelling like the hideous savages they
were.
Some Of the young men were for rush
ing out at once and attacking them open
~. But the older men, who understood
Indians better, said, No;'' for it was
only decoy party to draw us out where
some larger concealed foe would destroy
us.
instantly the more experienced of the
garrison went TO the front side Of the fort
and began TO peer sharply through the
portfolios, expecting to see the real danger
there.
But nothing was in sight yet. Howev
er, keen watch was kept up as the sun