Some Darlington History from articles by T. Frank Covert in a Beaver Falls newspaper, probably beginning March 21, 1927.
Those who are endowed with Library bred instincts may know the reason why settlements and localities are given certain names, but they do not always approve of the judgment of the designators. If the name is not sufficiently pleasing for the ears to hear or the eyes to read, the incidents of the nomenclature may have been too trifling or commonplace.
Had it been possible for the high brows of the woman's clubs to have named the towns and cities of today, what a procession of sylvan title would stretch across the country. There would probably be so many Lynnhursts, Elmwoods, Cedar Glens, and similar designations that a railroad schedule would resemble a Nurseryman's Hand Book.
There are many localities in Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, whose names bear a fitness to the location of the town itself or its industries. What would be more appropriate than the created word "Ambridge" as a designation for the place for the works of the American Bridge Company and the home of its employees. [A few lines lost here due to crumbling paper.]
Beaver Falls is particularly fitting, as the location from the time of the earliest records and traditions has always been called the "Falls of the Beaver" on account of its lying by the turbulent rapids of the stream, now partially hidden by the dams in use.
On the other hand, there are those whose names suggest something quite different from what they are; for example Eastvale--sounds like Mary Roberts Rinehart--doesn't it? Mayfield--a little shy of fields; and Woodlawn, an Easter hat on a crucible. True, Woodlawn was named when it was a beautiful vale, just the home of the hospitable McDonald family and by them so designated; but what person passing through it now by rail and viewing the frightful majesty of the industries upon the one hand and the rows of hideous grimy houses hung against the hillsides on the other with their unkempt yards crisscrossed with lines of dirty washings would be likely to associate the name [More paper crumbling here.]
The borough we know as Darlington was originally called Greersburg. It was named after the Greer family, who sometimes used the spelling Grier. The family was very prominent in early Beaver County. George Greer owned land on the Little Beaver Creek upon which he had a tavern, having been granted one of the first licenses issued in the county, to wit; in May 1802 [1804 penciled in over this date] Guion Greer was one of the Trustees of the Beaver Academy, and was the first County Treasurer, his term being from 1803-1807.
In the tax duplicate of 1802 [this date is penciled over another, making the original illegible] for Beaver Township, he is assessed as a Distiller. His place of business was probably at Greersburg. The Greers a little later conducted three breweries, one of which, a very large one, was at Beaver, and another was in operation at Greersburg in 1804. Their output must have been a superior product, for tradition says it commanded extra prices. Zodak [last name crumbled] in his quaint publication [next word crumbled] Navigator, says in his reference to Beaver (about 1815) that Greer's beer was esteemed at Natchez and New Orleans. [beginning next sentence crumbled probably "It is] an interesting truth that the majority of the men who have figured prominently in the history of Western Pennsylvania either conducted a brewery or distillery or kept a tavern at one time or another. Drinking was not then banned by society, though the abuse of it was condemned as severely as now. Real money was almost a curiosity, and whiskey was a much used, and one of the most convenient, mediums of exchange available.
The following is quoted from a writing by Rev. Albert Dilworth of Darlington, dated in 1900.
"Twenty-five years ago the writer had occasion to call on a gentleman living in Wayne County, Ohio, then over ninety years of age, who had removed there from Beaver County, Pa. In the course of some remarks about the experience of the early settlers, he said that when he was a boy, there was, of all possible products of the soil, but one for which money could be obtained, and that the pioneers were shut up to that one product for the means wherewith to pay their taxes; that product was the skins of swine."
When the judges, lawyers, and county officials used to travel together on Circuit, and rode horses in and from the several county seats in attending court, it was the custom, after ascending the last hill before coming to a visible tavern, for the entire party to race their horses to the hostelry. The last man paid for the drinks. This was repeated at the next hill top with an inn beyond, and so on to the journey's end, thus relieving the poor fellows from the tedium of the long ridges. They were fair enough to exchange mounts occasionally.
It might be proper to suggest here that the reason for so many distilleries as were known to Western Pennsylvania--and there were plenty of them -- was purely economic, and the same that gave rise to what is termed the "Whiskey Insurrection." The settlers could raise corn in plenty, but there was no market nearer than the Philadelphia district, and that was out of the question on account of the difficulty of transportation. But they could convert their corn into whiskey, and without difficulty convey it on horseback across the mountains, where it was in great demand.
A petition of the inhabitants of Westmorland Co., recorded in Penn's archives, vol. XI, page 671, (1790) recites:
"For these reasons we have found it absolutely necessary to introduce a number of small distilleries into our settlements, and in every circle of 20 or 30 neighbors, one of these is generally erected purely for the accommodation of such neighborhood and without any commercial (profitable) views whatever."
When the government in 1791 placed an excise tax upon the product of their stills, the people of the western counties refused to pay, believing it would destroy their means of living. After a mob had destroyed the home of General John Neville, Inspector of Revenue on Chartiers Creek, and other acts of violence had been committed, Alexander Hamilton, who disliked the political leaders of Western Pennsylvania and despised their constituents, persuaded President Washington to send an army into the district.
The army came and found no open opposition except that of words. The next Congress modified the objectionable law; the Pennsylvanians moodily acquiesced; the army returned; and a dangerous period of about three years was over.
But this has been considerable of a digression. In preparing a sketch of this kind, there is a constant pull of contemporary facts clamoring for expression away from the original subject that seems hard to resist.
Greersburg is said to have been laid out in 1799, though the original map of survey made by General Abner Lacock is dated May 13, 1804. As there were some residents prior to the later date, it is probable that a crude or tentative plotting of at least a part of the area had been made before the formal survey. This has frequently been the case in the earlier settlements.
It was surveyed by General Lacock on lands belonging to Thomas Sproat, William Martin [The name "William" is penciled] and George Greer, previously mentioned as having a tavern there in 1804 [1804 penciled in].
When the question was raised as what name the new village was to have, these three wise men did not turn to any timber land or forest glade for an inspiration to give it a title. They had all the Lindens, and Elms and Oaks within sight that they ever wanted to behold. There was nothing appealing in any kind of growing things which were only a nuisance to be cut down and burned or used commercially. There was as much sentiment about woodland and ["and" crossed out and "as" inserted in pencil] wood shed to the early fathers.
But when it came to open spaces in the great forests, something different stirred them. Hence we have names like Great Meadows, Little Meadows, and Clearfields given in the very earliest of Pennsylvania's days.
Mr. Sproat, Mr. Martin and Mr. Greer decided to draw straws to see who should name the place. There is something in knowing how to draw straws, too. If you don't believe it, try it some day with some old gentleman with features like a pine knot, who lives on the south side of a hill at the headwaters somewhere, and see who wins. Mr. Greer was the lucky man in the drawing, and he promptly called the new village "Greersburg" as a tribute to himself of his family name.
Greersburg grew rapidly as it became an important relay station on the pack horse and stage routes between Pittsburgh and Cleveland: all the traffic between these two pieces passing through the place. Large general stores were opened to a thriving business and the inns were filled with travelers. Among the early business men were David Gilliland, Stewart Boyd, and Joseph Quigley, merchants; David Prow, millkeeper; Jacob Striby, clockmaker; John McClymonds, tailor; and Stephen Todd, shoemaker. The latter was also postmaster.
There were also other taverns in addition to Greer's inn. One was kept by Matthew Hart; another by Richard M. Heth across the street from the Academy and about 100 feet south thereof. Heth is assessed as a resident of Shenango Township, now Lawrence County, the year previous. Following is a copy of a handbill he distributed:
"The subscriber respectfully informs the public that he has commenced tavern keeping in Greersburg, opposite the Academy, at the "Sign of the Bear," where he hopes by keeping good entertainment for man and beast, to merit and receive a share of the public patronage."
"Families emigrating to the new settlements thro' this place may rely on good accommodations for themselves and horses. Hay by the hundred or quarter. Oats by the bushel, at a low rate. RICHARD M. HETH
"Greersburg, Beaver County, Pa. May 22, 1806
The educational institution called Greersburg Academy is inseparably connected with the town in which it stands, for it is as old as the settlement itself, the original building of the school having been begun in the summer of 1802. This building, known to students and their friends for several generations as "The Old Stone Pile," is now the Darlington Station of the P.L.&W.R.R., having been disposed of by the Trustees of the Academy for such purpose in 1883, and the school transferred to a new brick structure. A history of the Academy would be too long here. It may be said however that many of the best people of the community have been educated within the stone walls of the old building, without considering those who came from other places, or those who have gone from there to dwell elsewhere. The Academy was not chartered until 1806, and Rev. Thomas E. Hughes, to whose efforts the establishment of the school is almost solely due, should at least be mentioned in connection with anything at all written about it.
Having been assigned as pastor of the Mt. Pleasant church in November 1798, he soon conceived the idea of an educational institution. The neighborhood was becoming settled, and the free school law was not enacted until 36 years later. He built a log cabin school house on the rear of his own residential lot, hired a teacher, and thus started the Academy. He was tireless in his efforts in securing money to erect a proper school building, even going so far as Boston with this view in mind, but he succeeded, and before his death on May 1, 1838, he had the satisfaction of having accomplished something that would remain a monument to his zeal and energy; and that he had contributed his share to the enlightenment of his fellow men.
Greersburg was incorporated as a Borough on March 28, 1820, by an Act of Assembly.
As the settlement increased in population, its business with the outside world became more extensive; but it was not long before it developed that as Greersburg, the place was being mistaken for Greensburg, the metropolis of Westmorland county. There was confusion in the mails and shipments of supplies were missent; though over 25 years passed before any one took the initiative in making a change.
The following copy of a letter is enlightening upon this particular matter.
"Philadelphia, Oct. 18, 1887,
George P. Smith, esq.
My Dear Sir:--
I am aware of your fondness and taste for historical lore. I will relate a trifling incident which occurred between the years 1817 and 1842,when I was a resident of Pittsburgh, Pa.
In or about 1831 I and a customer who bought goods of me regularly and paid promptly, his name being David Gilliland, a merchant, at Greersburg, Beaver County, Pa. At the time above mentioned he was in the city making purchases, and his business called him home before his invoice could be made or his goods shipped. The next day I shipped goods and mailed invoice to his address, 'Greersburg, Pa.'
In a few days I received a letter from him saying his invoice had not reached him. At once I sent a duplicate. In a few days I received from him a note not very complimentary to my business standing. I sent him a third duplicate; and there the matter rested until he came in person. On his entering the store I saluted him cordially and asked at once if his invoices had reached him. 'No,' he answered rather gruffly. I took him to the counting room, opened my letter-book and asked him to read.
He at once seemed glad, and exonerated me from any neglect of my duty. I suggestion came to my mind which I named to him. He seemed pleased with the idea. Greersburg and Greensburg are so much alike that I thought the mistake belonged to the post office in Pittsburgh. I wrote to Postmaster S. Drum, Greensburg; the next mail brought the missing letters and contents.
Mr. Gilliland, on seeing them expressed great comfort, because it restored all kindly feelings for myself. I told him that it would be well to change the name of their town, that I knew no town by the name of 'Darlington,' and that the change might be satisfactory to all interested. He seemed delighted, remarking, 'I will see what can be done on my return home, and report to you.'
Some months after (sometime in 1832) I learned of the change 'Darlington' for 'Greersburg.'
Very respectfully yours,
Samuel P. Darlington
I suppose the guerillas of propriety may question Mr. Darlington's taste in suggesting his own patronymic, but it is a good and highly respected name in Pennsylvania, and has served the purpose well as a title for this village.
David Gilliland died about 1845. He was an uncle of Joseph F. Gilliland of South Beaver Township, and a great uncle of Mrs. (Dr.) E. S. Burns and Dr. J. F. Gilliland of Beaver Falls.
The name was formally changed by an act of legislature dated April 6th, 1834. The post office was established in 1831. Prior thereto the residents received their mail matter through Beaver.
About 1851 or thereabouts Darlington drank of a flagon of selfishness which helped put it to sleep like Rip Van Winkle; but while the character created by Irving slumbered only twenty years, Darlington's nap lasted about sixty; and it was the whirr and the siren of the automobile that awakened it.
The story as told is that the route of the O. & P. R. R.(now Penna. Lines) as originally projected ran either through or just at the edge of the village. Reaching westward, it left the present right of way near Harlow Station, and proceeding to Darlington, left that place in an almost direct line for East Palestine by following the Little Beaver Creek and thence up the valley of Dilworth's run; paralleling the present concrete highway, running through 'Strington'; if you know where that is.
That those holding lands on the proposed route, in and about the borough, knowing it to be the more suitable, and believing that the Railway would have to go that way, put such a price on their properties that the railroad refused to purchase. After some negotiations in which no agreement was reached, the railroad officials, thinking themselves unfairly treated, decided that there was no such place as Darlington, and they would prove it by building on another route, ignoring its site completely.
It is true they could have filed bonds against the several properties and gone ahead with the construction the damages to be fixed later, by viewers, or by a jury, or as is usual in such cases, by both; for remember, it is the party who is acquiring the property who pays the costs.
The result is that a strip of land of the value of perhaps fifty dollars, entails costs and attorneys' fees of two or three hundred dollars additional to acquire --"when it goes through court" as the man in the street says. Moreover, several years sometimes elapse before a proceeding is finally closed.
Whether the railroad people decided it would be cheaper to build by a different route, or whether they were partly moved by a spirit of pique, or both, is immaterial; the result is the same. They took a half nelson on the line projected, at about Harlow, and twisted it north and west, along the Little Beaver valley, thus reaching East Palestine vial Enon Valley, leaving Darlington, starting with its hands in its pockets. It was a longer line by a few miles, and its construction may have been more expensive, but if corporations have no souls, their officials sometimes show very human traits that are not governed by the Decalogue. If they were wishing for it, they had their revenge upon this village. To be fair, however, the passing up of Darlington by O. & P. R. R. probably had a very small part in the stagnation that followed, and it is doubtful if the building of the main line through, and the placing of a station in the town would have done much to alter the conditions which arose.
The fuel of Darlington's business was the traffic of the stage coach, pack horse and heavy wagons, and when that traffic ended, then business only smouldered. When the era of railway construction, which was commenced in Western Pennsylvania about 1850, began to take on importance, it first arrested, and finally destroyed the first road hauling of both passengers and freight, and all towns depending upon such business went into a decline. Some passed out completely, like Black Hawk, leaving only an old building or two and a finger post to recall busier days, though Black Hawk was never really a metropolis.
Sometimes, however, contrary actions produce the same results. Harmony, Butler Co., was a prosperous small town until the Pittsburgh & Western R.R. was built through and not around the place, and it has been a case of stalemate ever since.
The Darlington Cannel Coal R. R. was incorporated in 1852, and soon after construction through Darlington, giving the place an outlet, but also permitting supplies to be brought in by rail, thus destroying whatever remained of the old order. It was extended to Lisbon, Ohio, by a later owner, about 1880, and is now the Pittsburgh, Lisbon & Western R. R. It contributed something to replace the lost business by the residence of some of the employees, in and about and through, and otherwise.
After the last great Conestoga wagon with its six mighty horses had rattled and creaked out of town, and the final stage coach, at its six miles an hour speed, had disappeared into the dust of the highway, Darlington began to lose weight.
Day's Historical Collections, (1843) says: "Darlington, formerly Greersburg, a flourishing village on the Little Beaver creek, contains an academy, a Presbyterian church, and about sixty of seventy dwellings." In 1820 it had 146 inhabitants, according to the Pennsylvania Gazette.
At a fair rate of computing, and allowing for the increase in the years following, there must have been not less than four hundred souls in the village in the halcyon days before the railroads came; for the families of the older generation were usually large. The number after this soon lessened and there were misgivings for the future among those who remained, as the community waited patiently, Micawber like, for something to turn up.
In a few years, stimulated by the tonic of contentment and having in its front yard the continued unruffled existence of the undismayed Greersburg Academy as an example, the village accepted the readjustment of conditions and refused to be further discouraged.
Its situation as a center for agricultural trade had not been impaired in the least; and it still had the most beautiful site and setting of any town in the county. If this latter statement be doubted, let the scornful unbeliever take his limousine out the little used "Middle road" to Darlington, upon any summer or autumn morning; get out of his car at the top of the long hill overlooking the Little Beaver valley; and glance toward and beyond the roofs of the town nestling amid its trees. If he does not agree, then his sentimental ideas must be of the cubist kind; or at least out of step with what is associated with the possession of a luxurious car; and he ought to be driving a spring wagon.
So, stoically pruning back whatever thoughts of metropolitan greatness that may have sprouted, Darlington settled itself into an easy chair of content and self-satisfaction, like a pleasant old lady resuming her knitting after being disturbed; and remained serene, complacent and unruffled for a decade, or until the news of the near approach of the Confederate General Morgan's raiders in the summer of 1863 swept in from the west.
Then there was plenty of excitement in the Little Beaver valley, and consternation amounting almost to terror in some instances. Hitherto the war had been a thing far away, but now it was coming to the home firesides and kitchens; for all sorts of stories were afloat, which gained in intensity according as the square of the distance lessened --from Morgan's men -- as the arithmetic teaches.
It is know that General Morgan was a little careless about his reputation for larceny, so horses were hastily bridled and driven to remote thickets, and family silver and other valuables were hurridly hidden, sometimes in the most absurd places. Darlington had sent its full quota of soldiers to the southern battlefields, some of whom never returned; but there remained at home men who might have been generals, had the stars been propitious. The men at home almost without exception showed as much courage as could be expected from civilians, for, securing whatever kind of weapons that could be obtained, they mounted their horses and rode off toward the danger as bravely as the king of France went up the hill.
However, after many anxious hours on the part of the town folk, it was learned that Morgan had surrendered near West Point, O., on that exciting Sunday of July 26, 1863; the men returned, and the town relaxed to its peaceful pursuits; its people to recount and laugh at some of the odd things that had been done during the day or two of apprehension. The Civil War, so far as Pennsylvania's territory was concerned, was over; General Lee having retreated from Gettysburg three weeks before.
This brings up the record of Darlington to the several wars of the nation; which begins with the War of 1812, for the Revolution had been finished while the region west of the Allegheny River was still a wilderness and whatever happened prior to General Wayne's final defeat of the Indians in 1794, and the treaty of the succeeding year, must be found in the tales of the Indian troubles of the country.
In the War of 1812, Greersburg was the recruiting place or rendezvous of at least two companies of troops, one with Captain David Clarke as commander, and the other under Captain Robert Imbrie.
The fact that Greersburg was thus honored shows it either to have been considered a place of real importance at that time, or else its ins must have been sufficient in number and ample in comforts to satisfy the requirements of the officers.
Both the above companies were enlisted to serve two or three months from January 12, 1814. That there had been volunteers from Beaver County prior to this is well known, and the following letter, quoted in part from Judge Parke's Historical Gleanings (1886), shows that there were at least two more companies, one of which was from Geersburg. The letter also evidences some of the hardships undergone.
The writer, Captain Robert Beer, of Allegheny, Pa., was a teamster in a train of supples, ordinances and ammunition to be taken to General Harrison's headquarters at Upper Sandusky, O., in the winter of 1812. All these were loaded on forty wagons drawn by five and six horses. The rendezvous was on the site of one of the Allegheny parks, and the commander was Captain Gratiot of the regular army.
The letter states: "All being in readiness we started (about November 1, 1812). To guard the teams and property, we had Captain Johnson and his company from Greersburg, now called Darlington, and half a company from Beaver County under command of Lieutenant Walker, who was subsequently killed by the Indians.
The journey was through an almost unbroken wilderness, and its difficulties cannot be appreciated by the people of today. Ten miles were considered good travel for one day; and when the route was bad, as was frequently the case, we did not make more than six miles. It took us three days to get through Hahn's swamp, and had hard work to do it in that time. We would often stop for a day and mounting our horses, go miles away along paths, there being no wagon road, and return with our horses loaded with forage.
"At Canton we lay a whole week repairing the wagons, shoeing the horses, giving them much needed rest, and procuring a supply of forage.
"From Canton to Wooster was thirty-five miles. At the latter place we found the first picketed fort. Mansfield ended the settlements in this direction. The only buildings were a fort, one tavern, one store, and one private house. We remained three days in Wooster to recruit our animals, repair damage, and gather forage. Between Wooster and Mansfield we had a good deal of new road to cut, the old one being impassable for the train. This was slow work, as you can judge.
"We were about two months on the road, and finally reached upper Sandusky on New Year's day, as cold a day, by the way, as I ever experienced. We never saw a fire from sunrise to sunset, and to make matters worse, we were but thinly shod."
The soldiers then became a part of General Harrison's army. The teamsters were discharged and had to walk home the entire distance.
The following advertisement appeared in the Pittsburgh Gazette of July 6, 1814, which bears a reference to the war of the time.
A few individuals enlisting at other places represented Beaver County in he Mexican War.
During the Civil War two companies were formed in the territory comprising the townships of Darlington, South Beaver and Big Beaver; Co. K, 10th Pa. Reserves, Captain Samuel Miller, who died of wounds, and Captain A. M. Gilkey mustering into service June 20, 1861; and Co. D, 100th Pa. Volunteers (Roundheads), Captain William C. Shurlock, resigned Dec. 15, 1861, Captain Thomas J. Hamilton and Captain John L. Johnson; mustered in August 31, 1861. Both companies enlisted for three years.
The colonel of the 100th Penn'a Volunteers was Dr. Daniel Leasure, who began the practice of medicine in Darlington in 1836. He had been one of the many students of Dr. Joseph Frazier, also of Darlington, and who was known as one of the most eminent physicians of western Pennsylvania for many years prior to 1850, when he removed to Centralia, Ill.
The late Hon. I. F. Mansfield thus wrote of Col. Leasure, -- "While there (Darlington) he was elected captain of the infantry company and colonel of Beaver militia. In 1861 the secretary of war asked him if he 'could find a thousand men as god as his Darlington Company -- men who believed slavery was a sin, and would carry their Bibles with them into battle.' The captain replied, "I have no other kind to bring,' and in twenty-two days reported with a full regiment. He was promoted to brigadier general, and the G. A. R. post in Darlington is named after him."
Colonial Leasure had also been a student at the Darlington academy. Through the efforts of the G. A. R. post the soldier's monument was erected in the public square; and the dedication ceremonies took place upon September 1, 1887, at which Colonels Ashworth of Pittsburgh and Hazzard of Monongahela City made addresses.
As to the later wars of the country, the particulars of the World conflict are too fresh in memory for this sketch; and the real history of the Spanish war has not yet been written nor will likely be until some one has the courage to tell the disagreeable particulars of this struggle, in which more lives were lost by the rapacity and incompetence of those in superior positions than were destroyed by Spanish bullets.
William C. Shurlock, formerly mentioned in a brief military capacity, was a physician in Darlington for a number of years and represented the county in the legislature in 1870 and 1871. Dr. S. M. Ross was another practicing physician in the town for some years from whence he went to Altoona, where he later died. Another was Dr. Henderson, a partner of the former Dr. Frazier.
The best remembered medical man of other days in Darlington was Dr. Bernard Dustin, Sr., but he is recalled not because of superior ability in his profession, -- though he was considered a very good doctor, -- but for his eccentricities during the 37 years of his practice in the village.
Here may be observed one of the anomalies in the maze of recollections called history. There is nothing remarkable in the commonplace, nothing less interesting, and memory soon spurns it. Yet this same memory quickly succumbs to a loud bleating of tin pans or other ultraconventional acts, of little or no innate importance and absorbs their details, to yield them in later days as historical data.
Several of these doctors were very distinguished physicians; Dr. Frazier in particular, who had many children named for him, so popular was he. Their lives were spent quietly, simply but courageously in fulfilling the duties of the calling assumed; and when they passed out, they did so knowing they had not been remiss. Then a line o'type or two, a graven epitaph, and nearly, if not quite, oblivion.
But because Dr. Dustin showed an indifference to the ordinary, and his professional career was interlarded with peculiarities, he has not been forgotten.
This very human trait is not limited as to physicians, nor restricted as to Darlington, but is as cosmopolitan as existence; and perhaps it is well that it is so, for otherwise a historical narrative might be as dry as the seven brass hinges on the fiery furnace, we used to be told about.
Dr. Dustin was a predecessor in Greersburg, of Drs. Frazier and Henderson, coming there in 1807. He was born in New Hampshire on March 16, 1781 and received his medical education in Utica, N. Y. His field of practice soon covered a large extent of territory, as his reputation as a competent physician and surgeon grew; and his income from it became extensive. Yet he was always as considerate to patients who were unable to pay, as to those who were well-to-do.
He seems to have been a great lover of children, as well as a great favorite with the youngsters, for he made them playthings, taught them various sports and games, and usually found time to relate, when importuned, a weird story of witches or ghosts, or a thrilling Indian tale, for their enjoyment.
Dr. Dustin was the architect, builder, and owner of the only sky scraper that has thus far projected its eaves against the horizon in "Darlington. Though it was only of wooden construction, its life was longer than that figured out by those who sit at mahogany tables, as the span of existence of the modern steel and concrete construction, for it weathered the winters of the Little Beaver from about 1820 to 1898.
The life of the "old shot tower," as it was called, almost equalled that of the "Deacon's Wonderful One-Hoss Shay," in the old Fourth Readers, and its end was the same, for it collapsed without warning in April of 1898, almost catching George Youtes in its fall, he having for some time previous been using it for a wagon factory.
This building stood upon the public square opposite the academy. It was of hip-roof construction, rectangular, and four stories in height. A two story addition joined it upon one side.
Dr. Dustin is said to have built it to this unconventional height of four stories so that he would be able to sleep above, what he believed to be, the malarial condition of the atmosphere near the ground; and again that he contemplated going into the silk worm craze which later swept and partially swamped (financially) Beaver Valley, about 1836.
The best reason for its construction for it was primarily intended as a dwelling, seems to lie in the inexplicable eccentricities of the doctor's mind.
The doctor claimed to be considerable of a phrenologist. He had the usual charts of the human head with its lines of brain cleavage in his office, and one of his patients in mind-reading was the late Michael Weyand, the former newspaper publisher of Beaver, who expressed himself as thoroughly satisfied with the doctor's predictions, for they were correct. He is said to have been an authority upon medicinal herbs and of having introduced a few remedial varieties into the Materia Medica.
The first wife of the physician died a few years after his coming to Beaver County. She had expressed a desire to be buried beside her people in her home city of Boston. It was in July and very hot and the transportation of the body was a problem first and a task afterward. Dr. Dustin was equal to the occasion, however. He procured a hundred gallon cask, placed it upon a huge Conestoga wagon, filled it with whiskey, and put his wife's body in the liquor, which acted as an embalming fluid, and hitching the usual six horses to the vehicle, the body was driven the 800 or thereabouts miles to Boston and there deposited beside the bones of her ancestors.
Dr. Dustin was found dead in his bed February 21, 1844, and was buried in the graveyard at Little Beaver. He had two sons who also became physicians, and a sister, a thoroughly educated woman from Boston, who for many years taught a private school in the Dustin home in Darlington. Many stories were current as to other eccentricities of the doctor, of which probably only a small part were true.
Rev. Robert Dilworth, who lived a short distance outside Darlington kept a diary from about 1820 to 1860 in which he records that upon March 14, 1821, a fencing master began giving lessons in the academy on mornings and evenings. Ten days later the pupils had so far advanced in that chivalric accomplishment, that they were given lessons upon horseback in the evenings. On the 28th of the same month, when the master departed at the end of his term, a parade of the fencing students was held in his honor, he being escorted some distance by them who marched with military eclat, to the music of a violin and clarinet in front.
In 1820 a military company was organized among the young men of the village. Officers were selected and drilling promptly commenced, with the expectation that the organization would make a fine showing upon the next general muster day. In due season arms and white leather accoutrements were received for the rank and file; but it was soon found that some careless or unpatriotic wretch had failed to supply side arms for the captain and lieutenants. This was indeed a serious matter, for muster day was fast approaching. Unless something was done promptly to furnish tokens of superiority, who would be able to distinguish the officers from the village cutups, when they attempted to give orders.
Richard III cried for a horse. "Swords," the officers demanded to save the situation. It was recalled that the village blacksmith, Philip Crowl, Sr., was particularly skillful, and he was appealed to; and it was not done in vain, for by the morning of the muster day he had forged three fine steel swords; and the dignity of the organization was preserved. Mr. Crowl was the father of the late clerk of courts of the same name. It is not known who these officers were; though a Major Boyd, grandfather of the late Simeon J. Boyd of Beaver commanded a battalion which drilled at Greersburg in the following year.
Darlington was one of the places where the organized military companies and the unorganized militia of several townships assembled periodically to receive military instruction. The days upon which they met were called "Muster days," and were instituted for a worthy purpose. It was not so long however before that purpose had a minor significance to many who responded, for they came to regard the day as one of license, upon which they might have a glorious good time in all that the words imply. To even those who respected its military ideals, it was sort of a gala day of relief from labor or business, but to the small boys it was always a ripping time.
The wives and daughters pretty generally avoided the neighborhood of the drilling fields and quite wisely. The old Muster days were really the predecessors of the county fairs of later times. Instead of the parade of stock and kine in front of the judges and the exhibits of needle work and good things cooked appetizingly of the fairs, there were the evolutions of the rank and file with bands of straw around one ankle, carrying guns, hoe handles and even corn stalks, and the revue of officers, gorgeous as trees in autumn, with their brilliant uniforms, clanging scabbards and champing mounts, plow horses of the day before.
As a substitute for the horse races, there were the many rough and tumble fights; deliberate contests, entered into frequently without malice, but as a test of brutal endurance and some skill.
Instead of side-shows, there were the drunken brawls of the day's aftermath. For lemonade there was in season cider that you could drive a nail with, and at all times whiskey, neither aged in the wood, nor rectified, but plenty of it, and the cups with which to drink it.
There was also on all occasions plenty of the perfectly respectable gingerbread made in large brick ovens at home the day before and bulging out the pockets of the militiamen, so that they were sometimes unable to assemble in close formation in the morning, in obedience to commands.
Only a small part of the day was taken up with actual drilling and instruction in the manual of arms, so there was plenty of vacant time for other entertainings. When the troops were assembling prior to marching to the evolution field, it was an uncommon and surprising spectacle. Spectators, small boys with dogs, and militia men mingled indiscriminately , with here and there an officer unrivalled in the splendor of radiant uniform and glittering trappings.
Usually there was a military company or two with special uniforms and supplied with guns, but the ordinary infantryman was negligible of any distinctive appearance. Until he tied the usual wisp of straw about one ankle so he could remember which was "straw foot" and which was "hay foot" under the eye of the drillmaster, he was of no separate type. His uniform might be his store clothes or old blue work suit. His foot covering was boots carefully soaked with mutton tallow.
Guns were scarce, and his shoulder piece was possibly a hoe handle, a broom stick, or even a corn stalk.
The magnificence of the officer, however, stood out in the assemblage like a totem pole. There was no mistaking the fact of his importance, at least to the urchins who followed him about as if he were a Pied Piper of Hamlin; though not infrequently his appearance was in inverse ratio to his knowledge of military tactics. His uniform was not modest. Its outstanding features were the coat and chapeau. The coat was of fine blue cloth studded with numerous brass buttons and was faced in buff or white. It buttoned tightly across the chest, was frequently heavily cross braided, and was cut away at the waist to form long tails that disappeared down the sides of his horse. Huge golden epaulets graced the shoulders and were connected with the extremely high coat collar by narrow creations of some buff or other material corresponding to the facings.
The chapeau or helmet of high construction was adorned with a long plume made of the tail of a white horse, set at a rakish angle, which fell gracefully backward between the shoulders.
Of course he wore spurs and a lightly belted sword. What military hero did not? Some of the officers had good mounts, but as horses were not usually kept for ornament, many a great lumbering farm horse with untrimmed fetlocks had to substitute for a fiery charger on muster days.
The many fights which occurred at these assemblies as well as at most all other gatherings of a general nature, were not, as might be supposed, due to the freely flowing liquor of such occasions. Some of the participants were men who did not drink even on a holiday of this kind, though many of the brawls of the latter part of the day were undoubtedly due to the condition of the brawlers and need no further comment.
Men came from other localities with the expectation of having encounters, and it was rare if they were disappointed. There were several families, or more properly clans, from different sections whose names were frequent in local mixups. The Maineses from the northern townships, the Hogues from east of the Beaver River and the McKinleys from about Beaver are some of those remembered as being quick to take real or fancied offense and resent it.
There was no purse. Outside of pure cussedness, the only object in fighting seems to have been to establish or preserve reputations as local heroes; though there could be nothing heroic about the way they fought. There were no fight commissions and no rules. Wrestling, biting, kicking, even gouging were permitted until one gave up. There was just one unwritten law, that no one else should interfere; and when this was violated, a general row ensued. If the victor was not in too bad a shape, he was supposed after a reasonable time to take on another contestant if challenged. The only survival of the sectional fighting remains in the small school boys' testing out of the new pupil from another district, and it exhibits an equal mentality.
The Civil War, where real courage was demanded and true heroism freely displayed, ended the era of the "bruiser," and it was almost a corollary with the veterans of that conflict that the greatest local bullies made the poorest soldiers.
Under the date of May 15, 1821, Rev. Dilworth records in his diary that Major Boyd's battalion met that day in Greersburg for training and that a large number of men were in attendance. In the evening there was some quarrelling and one "skirmish," as he terms it, in the streets. Upon later dates in the same year he reports other meetings of the military at the same place and notes a number of fights.
Darlington was very prominent in the Anti-Slavery movement of pre-Civil War days. It was one of the important stations on what was called the "underground railway," that mysterious system of transportation and shelter for slaves escaping from bondage, seeking to get to Canada and freedom; for if discovered, it was the duty of the authorities in the free or northern states to return them to their former homes.
Through some obscure means of communication many of the negroes in the border slave states became aware of the existence of the underground routes through Western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio and escaping, followed the south shore of the Ohio River to the mouth of the Beaver. Crossing, they quickly made their way to New Brighton, where they were usually sheltered in the old Townsend barn, the ruins of which are still visible at the foot of Penn Avenue hill at Allegheny St., though this was not the only place in the town were refuge could be found.
From New Brighton they were secretly transported by short stages toward Salem, Ohio, then a Quaker settlement and a sort of union depot for many underground lines.
Darlington was the next way station after New Brighton, and from there the refugees proceeded, sometimes to the home of Jonathan Morris, a Quaker, who lived on the Little Beaver Creek near Achortown, Ohio, and sometimes to the home of Arthur B. Bradford near Enon Valley. From these places they were later removed to Salem.
Rev. Bradford, who was pastor of the Mt. Pleasant Church at Darlington for about sixteen years, was perhaps the most aggressive and forceful of the many local opponents of the system existing sough of Mason and Dixon's line, who were contemptuously called "Abolitionists."
As early as 1828 a paper written by William Scott was freely signed in and about Darlington condemning slavery and advocating abolition; and upon June 28, 1836, an Antislavery society was organized at the Academy with considerable enthusiasm, of which Col. James Sprott was chairman and Dr. Joseph Frazier secretary.
After adopting ringing resolutions against slavery, the following permanent organization was effected: President, Rev. David Imbrie; vice presidents, Dr. Joseph Frazier and Dr. Joseph Cochran; secretary Rev. George Scott; treasurer Col. James Sprott; board of managers, William Adair, Joseph Taylor, James Cook, Robert Russell, William Scott, Thomas Silliman and John Still.
Through the efforts of this society several prominent men were brought to Darlington to speak against slavery, among whom are said to have been Cassius M. Clay of Kentucky and Stephen C. Foster of Pittsburgh, the celebrated composer of "Old Folks at Home," "Suwanee River," and other plantation melodies.
Between Darlington and Enon Valley there exists a deep ravine which the road crosses by abruptly descending and ascending very steep hills. It is a lonesome, rather secluded hollow, which at one time acquired such an unsavory reputation as the location of many misdeeds that it received and is still known by the name of "Hell's Hollow"
During the early days of the Civil War, when suspicion was rife, when neighbor mistrusted neighbor if he differed in politics, and there were many busybodies playing the part of the ridiculous, over zealous country constable in "The New Minister," a stranger came to Darlington.
Seated in a smart rig, he drove into town one afternoon, went to the hotel kept by Johnston Cook, registered, and immediately became an object of distrust. Why? Well, he was a stranger; that was enough.
Shortly thereafter a self-appointed committee with patriotic impulses called upon him at the hotel and asked his business. They gave no heed to the hotel register, for if he was what they thought he might be, the name and address would be fictitious, of course.
The gentleman, at first ruffled, then amused by the halos of importance assumed, put them off, saying he intended to take supper, would be at the hotel all night and give them an answer in the morning.
The morning dawned, and with it came the persistent committee. The stranger ate his breakfast, procured his horse and buggy, and was apparently about to drive off, when he hesitated as if he had forgotten, and turning to the committee said,
"Gentlemen, I will now disclose to you the reason why I came here. I am the Right Royal Emissary of King Beelzebub and live at his home town. (Only he didn't say 'home town.') The place is now overcrowded and overflowing, and I am commissioned to locate additional quarters. I had heard of Hell's Hollow and was on my way there to investigate, thinking it might be suitable; but since I came here, my search is ended; I have found the perfect pattern: Darlington is the place I sought. You can all to to _____, I mean, stay here."
And he drove away, while the committee went into the hotel wondering just what he meant.
It is evident that the stranger aimed his irony at the officio coterie and not at the town, for the religious history of Darlington is unsurpassed by any other town in the County--including College Hill.
The first beauty contest in the county was held upon the site of Darlington and not at the Jersey shore. About 1800 a party of Indians from the tribe of the Pottawamies, which had been bitterly hostile until the Greenville treaty of a few years before, came to the Little Beaver on the way home from the settlement farther east, where they had been to exchange furs for ammunition and other supplies. The squaws and children accompanied the party, and camp was made for a few days at the embryo Darlington. To misquote Shakespeare, "Grim Indian war had smoothed his wrinkled front, and stern alarms changed to merry meetings." The Indians were quite friendly; their camp was the object of considerable curiosity, and they had a number of visitors.
One day the Chief invited the settlers to witness a tribal dance to be held in the evening and announced he would select the most beautiful woman present on the occasion. Of course everybody who could go did go. The early flappers came early. When the dance was finally ended, the old chief arose, shaded his eyes with his cupped hand, and went slowly around the circle, peering intently into the faces of the embarrassed (?) young women. Once, twice he made the rounds, then stepping forward, he seized the hand of a female, drew her into the light of the fire, and exhibited his choice: a short skirted, tousled haired, painted cheeked counterpart of the fashions of today, only that her low shoes were moccasins--his own aged, wrinkled squaw.
You have not heard of this before as the winning lady did not have any competent press agent.
Since the publication of a portion of this sketch upon Friday, it has been learned that the worthy blacksmith who forged the swords so promptly was Peter Crowl, a brother of Philip Crawl, Sr., named therein.
Peter was a little eccentric in some of his ideas but very intense in his religious convictions. It is said that under no circumstances could he be induced to do any work on Saturday because of its being the Sabbath of the Bible.
Much of his work was horse shoeing and repair jobs for the stages and great wagons. One day he went into the bar of one of the taverns to get a bill changed. Several of the drivers were already there and drinking. One of them offered him a drink. It was courteously declined. It was offered again and refused. When Mr. Crowl emphatically said, "No," at the third insistent offer, the driver, probably a little unsteady, threw the whiskey in his face while the others laughed.
But Peter was no Quaker. There were limits to his doctrinal ideas. In an instant almost he had stretched three of them on the floor, and they were still lying there as he stepped over them and out to the street.
One of the swords forged by him so hastily for the officers is now in the possession of the Philip Crowl, Jr., family. When the latter was clerk of courts (1896-1902) he purchased the weapon from an aged gentleman of Darlington, who brought it to his office in Beaver and gave the history.
This old gentleman, whose name has been forgotten, also furnished the information above given.
There are no records of any grist mills in the village, but a map made in 1817 shows "Caughey's Mill" to have been located between the old road from Beaver Falls and the creek just east of bridge across the latter. The same map indicates "Crowl's Mill" as having been on the west side of Sturgeon's run about midway between the mouth of the run and the old church.
There are two other entries in the diary of Mr. Dilworth worth quoting in connection with this sketch.
"August 20, 1856, the company constructed a railroad through our place (now the P. L. & W. R. R.) had a celebration today. A carload came down their railroad to our place, and they had a dinner in grove which the company obtained from me. We all went up to the grove and took dinner. Several short speeches were delivered. When they returned, I went with them to James Duff's. The road is now ready for transporting coal."
"January 1, 1856. Heard that a fearful accident happened last evening about 5 o'clock at the Darlington station b y the meeting of a freight train of cars and a passenger train by which Mr. Stokes, stage agent; Mr. Johnston, brother to David Johnston, tavern keeper and a stranger were instantly killed and about 17 persons were wounded."
The latter entry might be a little confusing unless it were explained that for a time the stop which is now Harlow Station on the P. F. W. & C. Ry., was called Darlington Station and was used as such until the line through the town was able to care for traffic.
In 1898 there were not thirty automobiles in the United States, but they forthwith multiplied like the cells of an yeast cake. By August of the next year there were at least eighty companies organized for their manufacture.
About this time the renaissance of Darlington began. If this was not wholly due to the automobile, it cannot be denied that the motor traffic has at least been a contributing factor to the town's present thriving condition. The auto has been blamed for so many things; let it have a little to its credit. If the motor traffic did not entirely replace the volume of immediate business furnished by the Conestoga wagon and stage coach of half a century before, it put the almost forgotten old village on the map again in large letters, until Darlington has become, among motor folk and their friends, one of the best known towns between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, and its importance bears no relation to its size.
It is not always possible to trace the effects of even a particular advertisement upon resultant conditions. General publicity is very far reaching in results. The automobile and truck have advertised Darlington. Darlington is a prosperous and growing village. -- It is not insisted that the latter is a necessary consequence of the former; but both statements are true, -- and it is not unreasonable to draw an inference or at least to suggest the parallel. Moreover, the auto created considerable business of its own.
It is true that the plants of the Darlington Brick & Mining Co., and the Darlington Clay Products Co., or their predecessors in title were put in operation about the time, or perhaps a little earlier than the visit of the first automobile to Darlington; that Dr. John M. Davis had, in September, 1897, established an electric lighting system in the town, and that the community had become so healthy the fixture of years, the village drug store, had faded out; and that these were important factors in and evidences of increasing prosperity in the Little Beaver valley.
But just when things were going good there followed the discouraging fiasco of the United States Furnace & Foundry Co., which in 1905 to 1907 burst upon the horizon, flared and then sizzled into a court of bankruptcy, accompanied by thoughts which, if put into words, would have subjected the speakers thereof to contempt of court.
It was started with very encouraging prospects and much was expected. The capital stock of $150,000 was soon subscribed for by the local business and professional men and prosperous farmers of the neighborhood, and construction started. A large brick building was erected in the western part of the town north of the railroad and the machinery practically all installed, when dissension among the stockholders and subscribers, which had been brewing for some time, came to a climax.
The same kind of differences arose which have in so many cases wrecked concerns, where many of the stockholders to not have a great deal of knowledge of the manufacturing business or its processes and which seems to render one-man power in a corporation the more effective. More than one half of the subscribers refused to pay for the stock subscribed, and some who had paid part refused the balance.
The expenditures had been based upon full payment, and the creditors who had only partly been taken care of, became insistent. There was nothing for them or for operation. Suits were instituted against reluctant subscribers, some of whom went into bankruptcy, and some money was paid in; but the salaries and labor had to be paid, and the creditors foreseeing disaster, refused to be put off; so the bankruptcy court was the end of what had promised much to Darlington. There was little for the creditors, and the stockholders lost their investments.
The disappointment to the village as a community was more mental than financial. It was a case of an anticipated boom that simply did not come. There was just a temporary briskness in business during the construction period; and when the company became nothing by history, Darlington arose as usual in the morning, watched the ever-increasing stream of cars passing through or stopping at the hotel, the same as it had been doing for a few years, and went to bed at night a little more experienced, perhaps, a little more prosperous, and a little more satisfied with the business outlook at the end of each succeeding day.
That the local optimism was not misplaced is evidenced by the erection of the large plant of the Alliance Brick Co, a little west of the borough a couple of years ago and the numerous dwellings of its employees and others nearby; and that these dwellings, however humble they may appear, are nevertheless homes and owned by the occupants, which the deed books of the recorder's office disclose.
It is apparent that the town now takes pride in its appearance, and it is entitled to do so, with its improved streets, its better cared for lawns and its general air of prosperity, which is so much in contrast to the rather careless appearance of a few years ago; but there is one place regretfully missed by those who have known the village for a number of years. The town does not see quite the same without the old hotel with its large, inviting, shaded portico, edged with brilliant flower boxes; its comfortable shelter made more attractive with its easy chairs, its masses of seductive cushions, its vases of wild flowers. Even the large gold fish aquarium which Mrs. Cole attended to so carefully had its charm.
The appearance always seemed to welcome a visitor, not to the hotel alone, but to the village; and when he departed, his remembrance of Darlington was usually the impression of this cozy old building with its alluring suggestion of cheerfulness within; and if he was fortunate enough to become a guest, he could hardly forget the excellent meals and table service provided. And recollection of the hotel could not be otherwise than associated with the remembrance of genial Ed Cole, cheerful, well groomed, immaculate as a page out of Kuppenheimers' whether greeting his guests or giving the street its daily wetting with the hose; for many years its proprietor.
The old hotel had been a resort for sledding parties, dinners, and other gay assemblages for a generation; and when it went out, it did so like the Cheshire cat, leaving its smile still visible.
Error -- In a preceding paragraph it was
stated that the name of one of the men upon whose land the plan
of Greersburg was laid out was William Martin. The correct name
should have been James Martin, who was the grandfather of J. Rankin
Martin and William H. Martin of Beaver Falls and J. I. Martin
of Beaver. This error appeared in the first history of Beaver
county and has been copied in all succeeding publications referring
to Darlington. When an error gets a long start, it is difficult
to overtake. T. F. C.