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Biography of Benjamin Springer

From HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
W. H. Beers [Chicago, 1883]

In 1796, Benjamin Springer, with his wife and two sons, Silas and Thomas, also his son-in-law, Usual Osborn and wife, settled on Big Darby. They were natives of Pennsylvania, and built their cabin on land now owned by John Taylor, close to the north line of Canaan Township, and just within the limits of the same. Prior to their settlement in this county, they had resided a short time in Kentucky, whence they removed to the Darby. Howe says that Springer came out in the fall of 1795, built his cabin, and, in the spring of 1796, brought his family. This is a mistake; he did not come until the latter year, according to the reminiscences of Jonathan Alder, who says that Springer came to Darby the year succeeding the treaty of Greenville, or the next year after he pitched his camp on the Dominy land. As Alder did not come until the fall of 1795, it follows that Springer did not come until 1796. Alder gives a brief history of Springer's family, and we cannot do better than to quote his narrative. After speaking of his settlement, he says: "His family consisted of himself, wife and three children – Silas, Thomas, and Osborn's wife. He built the first mill on Darby. It was situated about a mile below where Pleasant Valley now is. It was poorly constructed, and only ran about six months, the first high water sweeping the dam away. It was never rebuilt. Springer lived to be eighty years old, and died on Darby. The last time I saw him, he came to my house in 1825, and took dinner with me. After dinner, we walked out, and, parting, he shook hands with me and said: 'This is perhaps the last time we shall see each other alive.' I made light of it, but he said he was in earnest, as he did not believe he would live long. He wished to carry to my mind the idea that he had some warning that his end was approaching. It was warm weather in the early fall, and he looked quite hale and hearty, but before winter he was dead.

"I have seen Springer's two boys – Tom and Silas – without shoes at Christmas. Tom was a great hunter, and frequently went with me on such occasions. One morning we started out early and crossed Little Darby and the Spring Fork. Late in the evening, Tom killed a fine buck, and by the time it was dressed it was dark. Tom wanted to know what we would do. I told him we would have to camp out, and he seemed very well pleased at the idea. We made a fire and roasted some of our venison for supper. Tom was rather Industrious, and did most of the drudgery, getting the wood and water. Late at night, we began to talk about sleeping. Tom said as he had no blanket he would have to sleep with me. I told him that two grown-up Indians never slept together; they are like two male bears, never found in the same hole or tree, for if they should happen to get together, they would fight, and one or the other would have to leave. 'Well,' said he, 'what am I to do; I have no blanket.' I told him he ought to have thought of that before he started, and that he never saw an Indian go out without his gun, knife, tomahawk and blanket. 'Wel,' said he, 'I do not know what I shall do if you do not let me sleep with you.' I told him we would fix our beds and he could sleep in his buckskin. I had only been teasing him, as the deerskin was, after all, the warmest thing he could sleep in. I had looked out an old tree before dark, and so I went and got a lot of bark to keep us off the ground. Tom stretched himself out, wrapped in his deerskin, and was soon snoring. I woke up in the night and found that it was snowing very fast, but as Tom was still snoring I did not disturb him. When we awoke in the morning there was about six inches of snow on the ground. When Tom opened out his buckskin to get up, the snow fell on his face and scared him some, for he declared that he knew nothing of the snow until he woke up. Taking all together, Tom had the better night's rest of the two. We built a fire and roasted some of our venison, and then packed the remainder and started for home. Tom never got tired telling about that hunting trip. One morning, I went out before day coon hunting, a year or so before our deer hunt. There was a heavy frost. Just after daylight, I met Silas and Tom Springer. Tom was barefooted, and I asked him if his feet were not cold. 'No,' said he, 'not much.' How the fellow could stand it and go through such a frost and not freeze his feet, I never could understand. After Tom grew up to be a man, he went out West, and I saw no more of him. After Silas grew up, he married Margaret Kilgore, a very fine young woman, about 1807. She was the daughter of Thomas Kilgore, who was one of the early settlers on Big Darby. Silas settled on the farm now owned by Eugene Babb, in Jefferson Township. He adhered to the New-Light Church; was an upright citizen, and raised a large family." We have been told by old settlers that he died on this farm, but Alder says: "Silas Springer bought a farm on Big Darby, which he improved and lived on until the year 1825, when he sold out to George Brown and moved West. He was of a religious turn of mind and would sometimes preach. After he went West, he joined the Mormons, and I then lost sight of him." Which of these accounts is the true one we are unable to say, but, doubtless, some of our readers may be able to throw sufficient light on the subject to clear away all doubt, and establish one or the other as the true story.