Oil City Blizzard 1

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Oil City Blizzard

McCREA OF EAGLE ROCK
from the August 14, 1890, issue of the Oil City BlizzardOne of the Pioneers of Venango County
Interesting Reminiscences from a Man Who was Born in the Wilderness and has Resided at His Present Residence Seventy-Seven Years
Eagle Rock is a way station on the line of the W. N. Y. & P. Railway, about fifteen miles up the Allegheny from Oil City. The depot building is used as a country store, postoffice and general rendezvous for the persons who live in the dozen houses in the vicinity. The arrival and departure of trains constitute about the only excitement. The location is wild and picturesque, and possesses elements of beauty to charm the eye of one in search of Romantic Scenery, but just why Patrick McCrea should have come here, in 1797, and settled in the primeval forest, with no other white man residing along the river between Warren on the north and Franklin on the south is difficult to divine. Still, he was a deserter from the English army, and his coming to this place may possibly be accounted for on the hypothesis that he was longing for sweet solitude.
But Patrick McCrea is not the subject of this sketch. His son, Hugh McCrea, now seventy-seven years of age, is the interesting relic of by-gone days encountered by a pair of blizzard men who were at Eagle Rock on a fishing trip a few days ago. He was born June 24th, 1813, and , as his memory is excellent and his conversational powers unimpaired, her forms a kind of Connecting Linkbetween the past and the present. He discusses occurrences and relates incidents of fifty or sixty years ago as though they happened yesterday, and as he possesses an inexhaustible supply of anecdote and reminiscence he becomes at once entertaining and instructive in conversation. His father and mother were both natives of Ireland. Hugh obtained his education principally from his father, for whom he worked until the age of twenty-five, when he began farming for himself. He has lived all his life upon the land originally seated by his father, except for two years, 1864 to 1866, when he resided near Williamsport. The house in which he now resides was built in 1861. it was the third one he built. The first was burned two days before his marriage, which occurred in 1844. He has five children living: John W., S. P., Mrs. Charity Masterson, Mrs. Clara O'Brien, Mrs. Margaret Dykens.
Well Preserved Mr. McCrea's seventy-seven years rest lightly upon him. He is as strong in mind and body as a much younger man. Last winter, he says, he suffered from an attack of La Grippe. However, he has never been confined to his bed but once in the past fifty years, and then for only one day. In his talk with the Blizzard representatives he had not the slightest difficult in recalling dates.

"My father came here in 1797," said Mr. McCrea. "Then there was not another white man on the river between Franklin and Warren. At that time the age of my father was forty years, so you see he was born in 1757. He had served in the British army as Lieutenant for five years, was born in Ireland and studied medicine there for some time. After serving in the army the length of time mentioned, he deserted and located at Richmond, Va., where he taught school and kept a store. He became aware of the presence of several British officers in Richmond, and becoming suspicious that they were after him, he left and settled in the wilderness here at Eagle Rock and was here five years before he married.
"I was born here in 1813, and have always lived here, with the exception of two years that I resided in Williamsport, Pa. I made my living partly by hunting and fishing, principally by farming and rafting on the Allegheny."
Good Fishing

"Are there any fish in the river here now?" was asked.
"I guess there must be. At least I haven't seen anybody taking any of them away lately."
After enjoying his little joke, Mr. McCrea continued:
"But the time was when this river was just filled with fish. There was no better place in the country for fishing. Why, I remember one time that we seined eleven hundred in one day, but that was a long time ago. They were principally bass, pike, pickerel, suckers, eels, etc. I never in my life saw a nicer string of fish."
Big Game

As to the kind of game that existed in those early days, Mr. McCrea said:
"We used to kill a great many deer and bear. There was a wet lick for deer across the river there, and I have killed as many as twelve bucks there in one summer. I have seen them come there in daylight. There were a great many wild turkeys, and I have killed hundreds of them. Along about October a flock of them would look nice. They were sharp fellows, and it was very hard to get a sight at them. They didn't mind noise at all; they depended on seeing. If they saw an arm or hand they would holler 'Quit' and go. In the winter of '40 there fell a very deep snow, about four feet, and it seemed to kill off the turkeys and wildcats, too. I never killed as many bears as my brother. He made hunting a business, and killed a great many bears, deer, and wolves. Wolves? I should say so. In the spring of the year you could hear them howling around here every night. They were the large gray variety. At night we kept our sheep penned on account of them -- did not dare to let them out.
"One time my brother-in-law had wounded a bear out back of President, and I went back with him to hunt it. On my way I saw a great many fresh signs, indicating that there was a bear around somewhere. I hadn't gone far from the place where I first saw the tracks, when I saw Mr. Bear sitting up on his haunches, listening. Getting down on all fours, I slid cautiously along for three or four rods, to bring me nearer to him, and then took aim and fired. He dropped at the first shot. We dressed him, and found he weighted 350 pounds, meat. Shooting at that time, of course, was all done with rifles. Shotguns were not used. We carried a tomahawk and knife also when hunting.
Great Hunting

"As I said before, my oldest brother chose hunting and fishing for his occupation - I have seem him kill as many as four deer in a day, still hunting. We never paid any attention to small game like pheasants or squirrels. My brother wouldn't shoot a wild turkey unless he happened to see one as he was coming in from a hunt. He killed sixty deer and three or four wolves and bears in just one fall. He had a number of Thrilling Experiencesone of which came near ending him. He was down on the river a short distance below here one day engaged in spearing fish, when he saw a bear jump in the stream and start to swim across. With the instinct of a hunter my brother made for him. The bear met him half way, and tried to crawl into the canoe to get a crack at him. As he would put his paws on the edge of the boat my brother would strike him with the spear. Then the bear would drop back into the water and as he would do so my brother would thump him on the head with the spear. They kept the fun up for some time, until my brother finally succeeded in killing the bear, although it almost cost him his life. The bear smashed the canoe pretty well to pieces. One year we got forty-five Deer in the River
The dogs chased them in and we killed them as they swam across.
"The wolves were the large, gray kind, and I had an exciting time with them once. I had been up the river on a trip for otters, and was lying out in the woods over night. My fire had burned quite low, and about midnight the wolves commenced howling around me. They came so near that I could hear them rustle the leaves. I laid still, and kept my tomahawk and butcher-knife in readiness in case one should make up his mind to tackle me. When daylight came I got my gun in readiness. Pretty soon I saw a fellow coming. He wasn't any less than three feet in height. He looked almost as big as a deer. When he got near enough I let him have it. He jumped about ten feet in the air and scooted. So did the rest of them, for I heard no more howling around there."
Bee Hunting

"There used to be a great many bees. One year I got nine swarms of bees in trees right in sight of the house here. I found one this fall up on the hill, a nice looking one. I have often taken as much as a barrel of honey out of the woods in the fall. But the bees do not seem to make honey like they used to. The Indians used to hunt bees a great deal. They saved the honey and stored it away in deer skins. Yes, this used to be
A Great Point for Indians.
"My father got so he could talk their language. They would bring the venison, skins, etc., here and sell them to the peddlers. They thought a great deal of father, as he would not let the peddlers cheat them. They used to come here to hunt and fish. On their way in from a hunting trip in the evening they would always shoot their guns off. They would generally come in about dark. A squaw would carry a deer in on her back and have her papoose strapped on top of the deer. A little black head of the papoose sticking up looked comical. "
Snakes Then and Now

"There were seemingly no more snakes then than there are now, except copperheads; they were more plentiful. Hogs used to run at large and they killed a great many rattlesnakes. One time as I was going up on the hill, I heard a great racket down in the woods. On going down there I saw two or three hogs with a rattler having a fight. They would catch it and drag it and then tear it to pieces, and they made as much fuss over it as if it had been a bear; I never knew of a hog being bitten by a rattlesnake. Have known of sheep and cows being killed, and we lost three horses by snake-bite. Their bite does not always kill a dog. A dog will cure himself - just dig a hole in the ground, crawl in it and lay there until he is cured. The earth seems to drain the poison out. We had a dog that was bitten. Having missed him for two or three days, we hunted for him, and finally found him lying in a hold he had dug out under an old house. He came home well enough. "
Title to Land

"In those days how did you get possession of the land?" was asked.
"Bought State land - although my father never bought his land. He settled on it, and stayed on it until he died. land jobbers tried to take it away from him, but they couldn't do it. According to the law at that time, a man to own land had to live on it for five years before he could get a title. My father owned 383 or 393 acres, which he had surveyed. Could have had a good deal more if he had wanted it, but he did not want any more. If I had been in his place at that time I would not have wanted as much as he had. After father died I got a patent to the land, and paid twenty cents an acre for it."
"Has the timber been taken off around here?"
"On this side of the river most of the large timber has been taken. On the other side it has not."
Procuring Flour

"How did you get your flour here in the early days?"
"Father used to go to Pittsburgh for the first flour he got. Would go down and come back on the river. He got all the meat from the Indians for almost nothing. We went to Titusville for the first corn meal we got, at the old Holland mill. Then, I used to go to mill up above Petroleum Centre. We used to take the grist to mill on horseback. The worst job I had was going to mill. It used to take about nine days to bring a canoe from Pittsburgh up here. I have gone from here to Franklin and returned in a day, in a small canoe."
Farming Doesn't Pay

"Does farming pay up here now?"
"There is no money in farming now. I used to raise a good deal of stuff to sell. Lumberman used to buy of me right along. They would pay once or twice a year. In trusting them, however, I never lost anything. You could get good prices then, but now the prices are very low. We are never asked now if we have anything to sell. I consider it so on account of the competition of western farmers."
About Politics

"What are your politics, Mr. McCrea?"
"Never ask an honest many what his politics are," replied the old gentleman with a laugh.
"You must be a Republican?"
"Guess again."
"A Democrat?"
"That's it. The first vote I cast for President was for William Henry Harrison. The first Democrat I voted for was Jim Buchanan. I was a strenuous Whig. The Know-Nothings knocked me all to pieces. I could not have been a Know-Nothing under any circumstances."
"It seems a long time to have remained in one place, Mr. McCrea, seventy-seven years."
"Yes, it does. I went away for two years, you know. During that time there occurred the Pithole excitement, and things were changed when I came back. This, you know , was the station from which Pithole drew her supplies. When I returned it did not seem like home until I went out in the woods, and then I found everything as it was when I was a boy. I may see a good many years yet, and I may not. I live in hopes of seeing the country in this immediate vicinity turned into an oil field. If I do not, I think my children will see it."
So ended an exceedingly pleasant interview with one of the brightest old gentlemen in this part of the State, and unless something unanticipated happens he will live to enjoy many years yet full of those pleasures which gather as a halo around the crown of a ripe old age.

The End Contributor
Andrew Bullions
andrew.bullions@gte.net