Down on the Farm

Even today agriculture is Ohio's largest industry, as it has been through the years in Madison Township. While the township has been touched by urbanization, much of it has remained rural. But in recent decades more and more of its residents have jobs in surrounding cities.

Through the years corn was the major crop, while wheat came in second. Now soy beans has set up a challenge. Due to the development of the beer industry in Middletown in the 19th century, barley was once extensively grown. Rye and oats were planted largely as feed for cattle.

Corn was the easiest plant to cultivate. Wheat required that the land be well prepared, plowed and pulverized with a harrow. The grain was put in with a drill. Wheat figured in most farmers' plans in crop rotation. The wheat grown in the township was a winter wheat, being sown in the fall. It was a variety especially suited for the making of pastry products, and farmers' wives made their own bread usually from their own grain. For almost 100 years Middletown had a large grist or flour mill just across the river to which farmers brought their wheat. Some would wait while part of the wheat was ground for flour, which they could take home. The milling company produced brands of flour which became popular throughout the region, but most of the wheat was sold by the farmers by the bushel as a cash crop.

This section will contain a brief review of farming, farm life and its associated activities in Madison Township, for during the township's first 150 years, the township was "country."

Life for the pioneers revolved around corn, the first crop of the frontier. It was easy to plant, even on the rough land between the tree stumps. Corn grew luxuriantly on the new land and there was a large surplus which was used to fatten hogs. Soon stills would appear and grow into distilleries which processed corn into liquor.

Since wheat was more difficult to grow and process, corn remained the primary food for many years. The corn was brought into the cabin in the evening and the pioneer and his older children shelled it in front of the fireplace as mother sat sewing or knitting clothes. The smaller children grabbed the cobs as they were stripped and built cob houses.

For some pioneers the only way to make corn meal was to grate the corn on a simple kitchen grater, but a few, such as Daniel Doty, Middletown's pioneer settler, had hand mills. Doty's mill was the first and neighbors often stopped by to see it. The first water-powered mill was the Round Bottom Bill at Columbia, but it was quite a distance away.

In 1800, Bambo Harris erected the first powered mill in this area along Elk Creek, just north of what became Miltonville.

Young farm boys would be sent on horseback with a bag of shelled corn behind them to the mill to return with a bag of corn meal. They had to wait turns until it had been ground. By changing the mill stone, the same mill could grind wheat into flour. In either case the miller took the "miller's toll" for his pay. Corn meal was used to make Johnny cakes, corn bread and mush. Mush and milk often made the evening meal.

Each fall the corn stalks were cut and set up in shocks around a single hill, left unshocked to serve as an anchor in the earth. A Madison Township farmer once wrote: "It is not fun to cut corn. The first day or two in the cornfield strains every muscle in your body.
Your arms, and your hands and back, and your legs all suffer, and when you go to bed at night, you ache from your heels to your head. If your hands are a little tender, you are sure to cut them on the sharp edges of the blade like leaves and before noon, little blisters come in your palms, to break before the night and bleed the next day. By the second day, cracks appear between the thumb and forefinger, they bleed too. The tying of the knot in the stalk band that binds the shocks together splits your nails."

The corn was left to stand several weeks before it was husked, but this was not easy on the hands. Husking pegs were used to make the task a little easier. The pegs were about 6 inches long, made of hickory, ash or oak and straight or curved depending on the preference of the user. In later years pegs were made out of steel.

Even the gathering of the corn crop became the excuse for a party and was known as a corn husking. Young men searched for red ears which guaranteed them a kiss from the girl of their choice. A square dance usually ended the festivities.

Butler County and Madison Township were celebrated for producing the best hogs in the state, the main breed of the 19th century, Poland-China, originating in Butler and Warren Counties. This breed grew to large size. It was estimated that for every 100 pounds eaten the hogs would gain 10 pounds. Most of the corn was fed to the hogs which, fattened, were sent to market, often to the pork houses at Middletown. Here pork was packed and sent off by canal boat.

Not all hogs were sent to market, some being kept on the farm to provide meat for the farm family.

Butchering usually began in late November for crisp, cool weather was needed to keep the meat from spoiling, yet not cold enough for instant freezing. A temperature between 32 and 35 degrees was ideal for the day. Some farmers might butcher several times during the winter, but others joined a ring. The farmers helped each other on the busy day. They then traded meat, enabling their families to enjoy fresh pork during much of the winter.

Long before sunrise. fires were started--the wood already piled up --under wash boilers, tubs and special iron kettles. Scalding water was needed in large quantities.

Shots rang out as one of the men took accurate aim with a gun, hitting an unsuspecting plump hog marked for butchering. Some farmers simply delivered a sharp blow on the back of the head to obtain the same result. With a sharp knife the jugular vein was slit. When the bleeding had slowed to a trickle, the hog was dragged to the scalding place.

Here it was dipped into the boiling water for just the right length of time, emerging steaming and bleached. A few wood ashes were often added to the water to hell) in the process. If left in the water too long, the hair would set rather than loosen. With the hide scraped clean, the hog was ready to be hung up. Forked supports already in the ground supported a pole on which the carcass was hung. A gambrel stick or old single tree was placed between the hog's hind legs for hanging. Then the cleaning of the carcass was completed, and the body heat was given time to leave the flesh, before the cutting up was begun. Previously the farmer had sharpened the knives and cleavers.

Trimmings of lean meat were placed in a receptacle to be made into sausage. Slabs of fat were cut into cubes to be cooked in a large iron kettle and with a paddle, pieces of fat were kept from scorching. The lard was thus boiled out. The fat was then placed in a large press, which

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extracted the remainder of the lard as well as leaving a cylinder of cracklins, a tasty snack that could be enjoyed for weeks.

The lean pork scraps were cut up and fed into a sausage grinder. Ham and bacon were carried to the smokehouse to be cured. First the meat was rubbed with a salt, salt peter, sugar and spice mixture. Using seasoned hardwood, the meat was smoked in the smokehouse, which had to be kept properly sealed and ventilated.

The big jobs on the farm were once performed by cooperative groups known as rings.

Farm neighbors exchanged labor for tasks which required extra help such as butchering, corn husking or shredding and the biggest job of all--threshing. This annual summer event required not only the work of many men but of farm wives.

The rings were built around the man, usually the engineer, who actually owned his own equipment. He organized his own crew, paid them, and then charged customers 2 to 4 cents a bushel for the grain threshed. The men in the ring joined together to do the field work, delivering the wheat sheaves to the separator.

The chief of the whole operation was the engineer, who was assisted by his separator boss, being kings of a day. The day began with the engineer getting his fire going as the others came dribbling in, having to wait until the dew was off the sheaves. The engineer had to keep up a head of steam and the separator boss see it was all set so the belts were kept in line.

The third person of the team was the boy hired to run the water wagon and pump. Water had to be obtained from a stream or spring. In the case of the West Middletown gang. Elk Creek was used. The water boy had to drive to the source of water and hand pump it. He stood on the wagon working the lever. A 3 inch canvas hose sucked up the water. If the steam engine were running low, a whistle warned the water boy to hurry.

In the Madison Township area around Jacktown, Nelson Emrick, later joined by son, Charles A. (Bob) Emrick had a threshing ring. The one operating around West Middletown over to Miltonville was operated by Wilson Fall, assisted by his son, Herbert, who later became an artist.

The farmers' wives played an important role on threshing day. They spread a table for the hot, sweaty men who actually "ate like threshers."

At that time a dining room table worth having would stretch out to 12 feet after the boards were inserted. Women used their second-best table cloths, for despite a wash-up some of the workers left their mark.

Hungry men around a table set for threshers could devour a dishpan full of peeled potatoes that were then mashed or creamed. To go with the potatoes were bowls of chicken, ham and beef gravy. Side dishes included cole slaw, applesauce, garden peas, green beans and home-cut noodles. Hot biscuits were passed along with country butter, assorted jellies and jams. There was the choice of milk, buttermilk, tea or coffee.

While menus varied, the tables groaned under the weight of the platters of fried chicken, ham or home-raised beef Dessert was expected- -always pie and cake. The pie was cut at least in six pieces, any less would have been considered stingy. Threshing gave each farm woman a chance to present her specialty- -something not served by others cooking for the ring.

Only men ate at the first table. There would be a children's table set up somewhere. The women Would eat after serving the meal as the men went back to work. After the meal, the
dishes had to be hand washed and put away.

The women also enjoyed getting together for quilting bees. Quilting was a necessary task to provide bedding. Quilts were highly prized, being made of pieces of cloth left from dress and other materials. Women often exchanged pieces and each quilt became a reminder of relatives and friends of other days. Some quilts even became reminders of family history, and some designs became elaborate pieces of art still prized on the antique markets.

Driving through the country, one can see huge rolls of hay lying in a field. It has been cut by a machine called the hay conditioner, which prepares it for the roll baler that compacts it in rolls, tied with twine. It can then be left in the field, covered by plastic until time for use, or stored in a barn. This is far different than the making of hay as it was done in the earlier years in Madison. It, too, was an arduous task like threshing. But hay was the essential food of farm animals and a good supply must be kept on hand, usually in the barn's hay-loft. Timothy was the main grass seed sown and best adapted to the upland ground. It yielded about two tons per acre, based upon planting one gallon of seed per acre. Clover was often mixed with the timothy. Horses would eat timothy, which was tougher grass. Alfalfa and clover made the best hay for cattle.

Hay making required its special farm implements. Of course, in pioneer days hay was cut with a scythe or sickle and bundled by hand, but by the 20th century machinery had come into use. The mower had two large iron wheels with a gear box and a long cutting blade--the sickle bar, that went "clickety- clack", extending to the right of the wheels. There was a contoured iron seat for the driver below which was an oil can.

Once cut, the hay was left to dry but it the weather was not right, the tedder had to be hitched up. It was an unusual device with a series of pitchfork-like prongs that when the machine advanced the forks pitched the hay into the air letting it fall back on the ground for sun and wind to dry. When properly dried, a horse was hitched to the rake, another implement, which gathered the hay off the ground leaving it in windrows. Farmers took pitchforks and put the hay on the hay wagon, which had a large flat bed.

One man stood on the wagon to see the hay was evenly distributed and the load properly built. Two pitchers walked along. gathering up the hay with a long-handled three-tined fork and lifted it up onto the wagon. When the load was pulled into the barn, the horses were unhitched and brought out of the barn. Then they were hitched to the end of a heavy rope, which ran through a series of pulleys. On the other end of the rope was a big double-pronged hay fork, which was sunk into the hay. As the horses walked away from the barn, the hay was lifted to the top of the haymow and slid across the track until just at the right spot, the rope was tripped causing the hay to fall in place.

A major specialty crop grown in the township was tobacco, with Middletown and Germantown being regional markets. At one time Middletown's large tobacco industry was the largest employer in the city. Many Madison farms had large tobacco barns, but most have long since been torn down.

Growing tobacco had a rhythm of its own, according to Margaret Edwards who recalled growing tobacco on their farm along old Route 4 above Poasttown. It was a year-round assignment, said Edwards. Planning for the crop began in February, then "in the spring the big steamers--a steam engine threshing machine rigged up with giant pans--would come to steam
the tobacco beds. This would kill the insects and weeds in the soil.- Then we would soak the tiny tobacco seeds in an old sock and sow the beds. The beds were covered with canvas and by the last of March the seeds would start germinating."

If not enough rain fell, the plants had to be hand watered. By mid-May the canvas came off, so the plants could harden. If any weeds appeared, they were jerked out. By the end of May, the fragile tobacco plants were ready to pull, one by one, and then planting began.

Tobacco was labor intensive and required only a small amount of capital, making it a cash crop. Once grown, the spindly plants had to be transplanted into the field. They wilted down, and some didn't revive, and these had to be replaced, one by one. by hand setting with a peg. Most farmers for the first planting had a simple transplanter, which was horse-drawn for the main planting. It had a barrel of water with a spurt being released at the proper moment as the plant was dropped by one of the two people riding at the back of the farm implement.

July was a time for special care--spraying for insects, hand worming, cutting intruding weeds and cultivating. When the plants began to bloom in early August, the tops had to come out and suckers cut off to keep the energy in the stalks and leaves. By the end of August or early September, the tobacco had to be hand cut, if it had survived the blue mold, soft rot and hail. The plant was laid down on the ground to wilt so as not to break the leaves when handled. Once wilted it was taken by wagon or a sled to be spud on tobacco lath--four to five stalks to a lath. Then the laths were hung on rails, often three tiers high in the tobacco barn or shed.

Warm rain would bring the tobacco into case. Curing time was dependent upon the weather of October or early November. When it came "in case" each lath had to be taken down and laid in piles, covered to keep it pliable. Sometimes this had to be done with such speed that men worked right through the night. Stalk by stalk the tobacco was hand stripped, a task usually done in a strip shed adjacent to the barn, each of which had its own pot-bellied stove. If all went well a farmer might have a check in hand for Christmas purchasing. Eventually, as cigarettes took over the tobacco market requiring another type of tobacco, it was no longer profitable to raise tobacco for cigars, most farmers stopped raising the crop in this area.

The cultivation of grapes for the making of wine was a specialized, but important occupation around Miltonville during the 19th century. A county history published in 1882 noted: "Grapes are receiving increased attention. All the modern and esteemed varieties are being raised in the vineyard as well as in the garden of the amateur."

In a 1995 interview with Raymond Standafer, who grew up in Miltonville, had lived in the old William Wolf farmhouse, just north of the school he recalled searching through its attic sometime around 1925, discovering baskets and baskets of bottles--wine bottles. lie and some of his boyhood friends carried the bottles back to Elk Creek, which ran through the farm, and threw in bottle after bottle, using them like clay pigeons.

Later an antique dealer came from some distance, looking for the old winery and any bottles that might be left. Standafer was told they would have been worth a fortune, some even having been made in Europe with fancy glass etchings.

Most of the land of the farm on which they lived was cast of Elk Creek, although a few level acres lay west of it surrounding the house which was along Elk Creek Road. While some grapes were grown on the level area, most were grown on the hillsides. The area vineyards were
largely on terraces, cut out and edged with creek stone controlling erosion as practiced in Europe.

William Wolfs obituary read as follows: "All young bloods and most of the old bloods of Middletown ... and Hamilton, have been guests at his hospitable home at various times ... this wine Mr. Wolf manufactured himself from grapes which he grew on his hillside farm. He was scrupulous in maintaining the purity of the beverage and no one who ever drank the wine had cause for complaint..."

Wilda C. Augspurger's farm along Howe Road just east of Miltonville contains some of the acreage of the old Wolf farm. Augspurger noted that the Eckert family had also grown wine grapes. During stagecoach days the Eckerts built the house, now the Augspurger home. The Eckerts had a basement wine cellar, with double doors wide enough through which barrels could be rolled for storage. Elias Mattix and his descendants also grew grapevines on terraces near Miltonville, their land being west of Elk Creek Road.

When disease and blight wiped out the Madison township vineyards some farmers turned to producing peaches and apples. Harry Augspurger, Wilda's father, was a pioneer in this endeavor. The son continued in the fruit business and at one time picked and sent to market some 400 bushels a week during the ripening season. Augspurgers marketed apples from their orchards until 1975.

During pioneer days apples had ranked next to corn as a staple food product. Apples were used in many ways. They added variety to the diet as well as vitamins and fiber. Every family enjoyed apple cider and made at least a half barrel of apple butter. Since canning had not yet been invented, apples were dried in the sun, then strung by the children, stretched like clothes lines in a dry place for winter use. Apples were also made into jelly and preserves.

While different varieties ripened during the season, most came ripe at the same time. Neighbors were invited and a social event called the apple bee or apple cutting was organized. When the guests arrived they were greeted by tubs, baskets and kettles filled with apples. Groups set to work in a party atmosphere.

Some girls carefully pared an apple with a long peeling failing to the floor forming the initial of her prospective husband. During the early 20th century up on Brown's Run, autumn was apple-picking time. Then farmer and local mechanic, Homer Eisele, cleaned up his old cider mill. Eisele did custom work for his neighbors on the "Run," as well as for himself. In his power cider mill the apples were put into a hopper where they were carried by a conveyor to the grinder or chopper. From it the apple pieces fell into a big bin above the press. The big press squeezed out the juice, which soon became cider.

John Fouts operated a cider mill on the Reed farm. According to legend Johnny Appleseed once roamed the hills of Madison Township and is credited with planting some of the apple trees found there in pioneer days. First Johnny had followed the river, and in later years was seen on the Miami Canal.

In late February or earl ' y March, depending upon the season, the sap begins to flow in

sugar maple trees. In early years, when there was an abundance of such trees, it was time for
the gathering of the sap.

In an old copy of the Middletown Herald for March 3, 1854, is a description of a sugar camp which was located on both sides of Elk Creek just west of the cemetery. The reporter noted that only here could he "find a sufficient cluster of these favorite trees to be called a sugar camp." He wrote of the "old sugar house in the thick, dark woods that had become a neighborhood meeting place when the, stewing off time took place." Old timers told the reporter of the days stories were told and jokes cracked as "all waited for the rich, yellow syrup to send up golden bubbles in the large iron kettle."

The syrup was taken and strained. If sugar were to be made, it went into the sugar pan, boiled again to the proper degree and caked into pound and half-pound squares. If syrup was to -be the final product, it was allowed to cool but reheated and cooled again to precipitate the silica, thus breaking up the sugar crystals. It was then put into containers for home use or the market. The making of high-grade syrup or sugar required cleanliness and skill. If the sap was permitted to stand too long or boiled too long, the flavor was lost and the syrup became dark in color.

The process began when the men went out to tap the trees. A gash was made with an axe about four feet from the ground. Then an elder or buckeye spike was driven about 1- 1 /2 inches into the hole. The sweet sap was caught in wooden buckets, collected, and taken to tile sugar house. Later metal spouts, galvanized buckets and other advanced equipment was used. Today, it is much more complicated than that.

The making of sorghum molasses was once a craft practiced in farm neighborhoods throughout southern Ohio. Among the last to make it locally was Leroy Ratliff up on the old Williamson farm along Brown's Run. In the corner of one field he had set up a sorghum mill. At first an old horse pulled a wooden beam to supply the power to crush the cane. Later Ratliff hitched up a Ford tractor, put it on idle, then geared it down to run the operation.

After the cane was grown it had to be gathered, and then the leaves stripped off and the tops cut off, both later used to supply feed for cattle. But the stalk was fed between two rollers and the juice caught and put up into flat metal vats known as evaporating pans. These were set on top of a crude furnace and the liquid brought to a boil. As the syrup boiled, impurities rose to the top and they had to be skimmed off with a shovel-like tool called a sorghum skimmer.

Ratliff reserved this job for himself, as it had to be done just right or the sorghum would not be of right quality. When the syrup reached just the right point, as indicated by the way it congealed in a cup of water, it was poured from the tray through a strainer into cans. Ratliff 's wife, Stella, supervised this step of the process, seeing that the syrup was put into the containers.

A neighbor, Paul Bowlus, recalled his part in the process as assisting in preparing the cane for the rollers, and in helping sell the product. Bowlus claimed it was "the best sorghum" he ever tasted, and it was sold out in no time. Several hundred gallons were made, being sold in one-gallon tins. Housewives prized it for making gingerbread or for pouring over pancakes.

While Ratliff sold his syrup commercially, he would also do custom work for neighbors who wished to grow their own cane, providing their own supply of syrup.

Specialty farming in Madison Township is largely a practice of the past and the land has been returned to ordinary crop production- -corn, wheat, hay and now, soy beans. Professional farmers such as Alan and Daniel Crout with the latest equipment cultivate land for neighbors.

Animals were an important part of farm life. The faithful dog helped herd the sheep and bring in the cows. Cats kept the barns from being overrun by mice and away from the corn crib. Cows and sheep provided income. But the horse actually helped with the farm work, providing power beyond the strength of human beings. Being valuable the horses had to be protected from horse thieves. Vigilante groups were organized, which eventually became known as Horse Ranger Companies, such as a very early group in Madison Township which began as the "Trenton and Miltonville Benevolent Society, founded Oct. 28, 1843.

This company patrolled Madison township, with its territory covering as far west as the west bank of the Miami-Erie Canal in Middletown. Another such group was the Monroe Horse Ranger Company, whose jurisdiction began at the east bank of the Miami-Erie Canal, including Lemon Township and into Warren County and Red Lion as well as some of Liberty Township. Jurisdictions were established by state charters. A Central Council transacted the business of the organization, being headed by a Captain and Lieutenant. A secretary and treasurer completed the list of officers. A General Council meeting was mandated each year with membership fees set at $3 per year.

Horse thieves such as the famed Site Doty were clever, skillful and worthy adversaries. The hills of northern Madison Township, especially in the Browns Run area, were remote over a century ago and even had blind stables. In these hidden barns stolen horses were kept for a short time then taken off some night to other similar stables. The horse thieves were well organized.

Horse Rangers became a popular organization and in Ohio were governed by Ohio Statutes enacted by the General Assembly that provided that "any number of persons not less than 15 ... residents of the state of Ohio" were authorized to become a group recognized "for the purpose of apprehending and convicting horse thieves and other felons including counterfeiters." Jeremiah Marston was the first president and Ezra Potter, the first secretary of the Madison group. During its early years the following men served as leaders (Captains): Ellis Miller, Robert Busenbark, Aaron Ball, John Hunt, Samuel Landis, John Good, Henry Good, David Pylon, Silas Long, Henry Sellers, James Law, Francis Cornthwait, Elias Mattix, Theodore Marston, Benjamin DeBolt, Elias Long, Henry Gantchy, John Law, Peter Thomas, John Thomas, William Richter and J.G. Long.

Most farmers in the township tried to keep horses that could work, draw a carriage or carry a saddle. "Shakespeare" the sire of many township horses was brought from new Jersey in 1816--a large, superior work or draft horse. Then this breed was mixed with that of "Balger" from Maryland, a horse noted for being spirited, active and a fleet traveler, which could carry a traveler 8 to 10 miles an hour under saddle. Mixed, the horse bred was a good work horse and also a good riding or carriage horse.

Horses were very important to farmers providing the horse power needed to run simple machinery used in producing crops, as well as providing for family transportation. They were sometimes raised for sale outside the township. Several Madison Township farmers were also known as stockmen, such as George Williamson who raised horses and fine sheep for sale. There was a strong market for horses in the south to work the fields of cotton. In the 1850's Cincinnati was the nation's largest horse market with great auction barns, boarding stables and drovers. However with the coming of the railroad to Madison Station in 1851 (West Middletown) local farmers could ship livestock by rail.
An old history noted that in 1836 there were 7846 horses in the county. Ten years later there were 10,960. Then by 1856 the figure was 11. 100 and it remained fairly constant into the 1880's. In the 1890's the horse population began to fall as there was a depression and the bicycle craze began to sweep the nation. The Miami Cycle and Manufacturing Company of Middletown was soon turning out bicycle and motorcycles, and then came the automobile. The horse, itself would be replaced on the farm by a tractor.

The rolling lands of Madison township were usually used as pasture land, cattle were run on the more gentle slopes and sheep and goats were left with the steeper land. Dr. Thomas E. Reed, a prominent Middletown physician owned a Browns Run farm, largely hills, on which he kept a herd of goats and sold their milk in the city. A farmer with a large truck could run a milk route, collecting the large milk cans from his neighbors and haul them into a dairy or creamery. This had to be done daily before refrigeration was common, with the evening milk being kept cool by running water over the cans. For years Clem Crout in partnership with a neighbor, Charles Long, ran such a route along Browns Run.

A few farmers ran their own dairies, retailing the milk in town to a list of customers. John Michael along the road that now bears his name- - Michael --had a milk route in town. He milked 25 high grade Holstein cows a day, raising corn and hay for them on his 200-acre farm. C.F. Early had a dairy farm near Poasttown. He was assisted by a son, Ernest, who later established his own dairy along Bellemonte Street and for many years made ice cream. becoming the icecream king of Middletown.

But the most elaborate dairy operation of all was set up by George M. Verity of Armco on his Niderdale farm, where he built up a herd of 160 cows, and produced, "Jersey Creamline Products." While most of his cattle were Jersey, Verity also had a smaller herd of Ayershire cattle to provide milk, especially for babies. Land too hilly at Niderdale for cows was turned over to sheep, an operation supervised by Charles Poffenbarger.

There are still those who remember the delightful years of Niderdale Farms.

It began back in the early 1930's. In 1935 as the Depression was ending for Armco, Mr. and Mrs. George M. Verity embarked on a visit to Europe. After a trip across tile continent, they made their way to England's Pateley Bridge, the Verity homestead in the Vale of Nid in Yorkshire, from which came the name of Niderdale.

At first, Verity had just thought of a country hide-away and a 1930 Atlas shows a 76acre site listed as the "Verity Park Club." From this nucleus, he began to purchase surrounding farms. From Harry Bowlus, he bought the old Williamson homestead which had come down through several generations to Absalom Williamson who willed it to a niece, Lavina Gephart, who married Bowlus. This, when combined with neighboring farms such as those owned by George Slade and Bertha Streck Armstrong made up Niderdale Farms.

Another major purchase was the farm known as the Henry Eisle place, also a family homestead, which became the site of the dairy operation. When purchased later by Metz McGraw, the barn was remodeled into a clubhouse, now known as Browns Run Country Club.

Originally it was necessary to ford the creek itself to get to the Bowlus place. but Verity opened a lane off Thomas Road. He also bought up several smaller tracts of hilly land until he had acquired an estate of over 500 acres. It included timbered areas, and worn-out farms.

As early as 1882 a writer had commented that when the trees along Browns Run were
cut, "it began to widen, until its adjoining rich surface soil was washed away," making what was once a fertile garden of beauty "a barren waste of sand and gravel." Verity launched a program of soil reclamation and conservation.

Although Verity once declared himself as "land poor" he felt rewarded turning the land into woodland park and a dairy farm.

On March 19, 1933 Peyton Goins, began work at Niderdale. At first he oversaw the whole diary operation for the milking of 12 cows to the running of the route. But as the dairy expanded, Lacy Stinson came in as manager and Goins took charge of the cattle as herdsman.

Goins recalls there were 17 dairies in Middletown when he began at Niderdale. Niderdale's Jerseys produced the highest quality milk with 5% butterfat. It sold at 15 cents a quart, while the average was selling for 10 cents. In 1941 Bordens bought the business, but not the cattle. On Sept. 30, 1941 a big dispersal sale was held. With the cattle sold, Goins went to work for Bordens. He retired in 1973 after 40 years in the dairy business.

'It wasn't all business on the farm however, for Verity loved to ride his horse "Grey Dawn." He would ride for hours over bridle paths and invite his friends to do so.

Friends who enjoyed the hospitality of Niderdale trails included Minnie Chalfln, Lois Ware, Isabel Blair, Dr. Bauer, Russell Stevens Sr., and Cliff and Bill Crawford. They were part of the Forest Hills riding club on Thomas Road, where many horse shows were held. Verity had the farm gates fixed so that they could be "unlatched" without the riders getting off.

Many farmers in Madison Township kept chickens and sold the eggs in the villages and Middletown. Farmers' wives made butter which also sold well. Some had regular butter-and-egg customers while others traded their produce for grocery credit. A few farmers had a truck garden and went into the city for market. For over a century market days were important in Middletown. In 1839 the Town Council at Middletown decided to build a market house 22 by 50 feet at the corner of Vanderveer and Broad Street. Eventually the Middletown market took up most of Broad Street, with the section north of Central reserved for the selling of hay, straw and wood.

An east end market was set aside along Baltimore Street, and the widened area can still be observed.

By the turn of the century, the local market was the busiest place in town. It had been moved to Canal Street occupying the whole block south of Third (Central). Market was held every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning from sunrise to 10 a.m. It was under the supervision of an official market master appointed by the mayor of the city, with the advise and consent of the council for a one-year term.

All wagons and other vehicles had to park so the hind wheels rested against the curb stones, and every spot occupied, was to be cleaned of all litter as the tradesman left.

A few farmers had stands on their farm. Homer Weikel ran a farmers' market along Franklin-Trenton Road for many years to which city people went for fresh produce.

The annual county fair was the farmer's holiday of the year. The first one which Madison Farmers attended occurred on Oct. 28, 1831 at the Courthouse in Hamilton along High Street, which was used for the races. It wasn't until 1856 that the Butler County Agricultural Society purchased the present county fairgrounds. To attend the first fair and others that followed, people left Madison in spring wagons, surreys, and even covered wagons
which provided living quarters for a family while at the fair. Some went over to Middletown or down to Woodsdale to catch a canal packet boat which went by the fairgrounds. Single men simply rode their favorite horse to the fair. Racing was the most popular sport of the day. For the county fair, where many local horses were entered for races, a part of High Street was fenced off as a temporary track. A wild time was had in connection with the races. Betting sheds were erected, and great amounts of money changed hands. Next to horse-racing, the plowing contest commanded most interest.

The latest in farm implements was on display. Center of attention was the new, improved wooden mould-board plow, considered the best on the market. Grain cradles, scythes and sickles were also exhibited by their manufacturer. Women were also in competition at the fair. In the courthouse one could view their cans of fruits and vegetables, as well as the results of hours of fine needlework and quilting.

The exhibits and animals were all in place early the first day. The Committee on Awards then made its rounds and agreed upon the winners, so fair-goers could know who won the prizes.

At noon basket lunches or dinners were eaten on the spacious courthouse lawn. This was followed by an oration of the day, after which horse-racing and plowing contests were held. William Bebb, born at Dry Fork in Butler County, who had just entered the practice of law--he would later become governor of the state- -delivered the first day's oration. Parts of his remarks were recorded by a report for the Hamilton Intelligencer, the county newspaper of the day.

Bebb noted: "Look at Butler County, her situation, the center of the Miami Valley, but half a day's ride from Cincinnati and the Ohio River. Her soil, unrivaled for its fertility and case with which almost every acre may be cultivated. Her climate is inferior to none. Her facilities for transportation almost unequaled. Her population is virtuous, hardy and enterprising. There are here, no drones in the hive, no lords, no beggars, no haughty masters, no servile slaves." Bebb then declared: "I would not have a slave to till my ground, to carry me, to fan me while I sleep, and tremble when I wakened for all the wealth that sinews bought and sold, have ever earned. My native county is free from human nature's foulest blot."

This quotation expressed the strong feeling in Butler County against slavery that at the time still existed in the southern states, but had never been permitted in Ohio.

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