Among all of the quotes about history, there are many which rightly remind us that if we do not study history we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again,

Although this is quite true, my favorite quote about history’s relevance focuses not so much on human failings that tend to plague each generation, but rather on what makes us inextricably tied to history and to those who preceded us.

Long before it was discovered that we carry the DNA of our ancestors within every cell in our bodies, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote:

“. . .man is a bundle of relations, a knot of roots, whose flower and fruitage is the world. ” 

As I will explain later, this point was driven home to me just a couple of months ago.

The Blackburns and the Van Winkles

Last week, we posted an essay about one of NW Arkansas’ earliest settlers, Peter and Temperance Van Winkle. We ended just as the Van Winkles returned from the Civil War to find their home had been burned, and the lives they had so painstakingly built had to be reconstructed, just as the Union itself had to be rebuilt after being torn asunder by war and violence.

Although it is known their home was burned, it is unclear whether Confederate or Union soldiers torched it. Some accounts claim that the Union, wishing to decimate the source of lumber the Confederates received during the Rebellion destroyed it, while other accounts contend that in an effort to keep the Union from taking over the lumber mill, the Confederates took action to keep potential booty from being confiscated by the North.

Whichever side was guilty, the result was the same.

After the war, Van Winkle’s emancipated slaves chose to continue to work for him — undoubtedly a huge help with all of the work that had to be done.

What is left of the slave quarters on the Van Winkle farm

Although the cost of living and land values were relatively cheep after the war, money and food were scarce and Confederate money was worthless.

However, over time, Van Winkle rebuilt the lumber mill, and soon, it outshone it’s former glory. Van Winkle provided the lumber for a number of projects, including the construction of Old Main at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville in the 1870s.

Two Influential Pioneer Families

One of Van Winkle’s daughters married J.A.C. Blackburn, the son of Sylvanus Blackburn (of War Eagle Mill fame).

JAC made a name for himself in his own right — instrumental in creating infrastructure in Rogers, AR, he and his wife lived near the downtown most of  lives. Toward the end of their lives, Peter and Temperance also resided in Rogers.

The Rogers home of J.A.C Blackburn

It was in Rogers in February of 1872 that Peter and Temperance, as was their routine, took a walk with their son one February evening.

This was Peter’s last sojourn; while on the walk he collapsed and died immediately – the result of a massive stroke. The new state had lost a pioneering icon; NWA Arkansas had acquired a legend.

Knots and Roots

Back to the Emerson quote. In May of this year, I took a trip to see my aunt, Nancy Howell Stevens, and cousin Paige Carlile Kerr.

Soon after arriving, Nancy mentioned that her husband’s physical therapist, knowing  I lived in Arkansas, asked if I’d heard of a renowned, historical mill located in NW Arkansas. My mouth literally fell open! Not only had Lynn and I been to the mill several times, I’d done extensive research on Sylvanus and Catherine Blackburn, which we wrote about in an earlier post.

That was astounding in itself, but it got even better. As we wrote previously, Sylvanus and Catherine had many children – but John (the physical therapist) was a descendent of JAC Blackburn, tying him directly not only to the Blackburns, but to the Van Winkles as well.

Some would blithely say that it’s a small world, and it is; but even more than that? We truly are a “bundle of relations, a knot of roots.” And that, my friends, is why Lynn and I truly love bringing you stories of Hidden Treasures in the Ozarks.

Peter and Temperance Van Winkle

On a chilly morning in February of 1882, a crowd gathered at the Frisco train station in Fayetteville, AR to greet an overnight train that had been specially dispatched the night before.

The train’s melancholy mission completed, a group of men stepped up and forlornly unloaded the coffin of one of the most prominent and well-known citizens in the entire state, Peter Manelis Van Winkle.

The pall-bearers  loaded the coffin into a horse drawn carriage; Van Winkle’s family members filled the carriages immediately following the hearse.

The processional traveled down Dickson street, then turned south onto College, where they traveled approximately three blocks before turning on to Center street. In the middle of the thoroughfare, the horse-drawn hearse came to a stop in front of the Van Winkle Hotel.

The building was draped in mourning, signifying the death of of someone significant; there, the body of Van Winkle was carried into the hotel, where it laid in state from Friday morning until Sunday afternoon.

Where it all Began

Peter Van Winkle and his wife, Temperance had arrived in Northwest Arkansas from Illinois nearly fifty years earlier. Soon after their arrival, Van Winkle purchased 80 acres in Washington County for $1.50 per acre.

Thirteen years later, in 1851 the Van Winkles purchased land in Benton County, close to the historic War Eagle Mill. Here, Van Winkle built, owned and operated the largest lumber mill in the area.

For the rest of the decade, life was good for the Van Winkles; they raised a family and expanded the lumber mill into a force to be reckoned with . Although the magnificent, antebellum home is no longer present, the beautiful hollow where the Van Winkles built their home looks much the same as it did when they lived there. Stones from the terraced garden remain. As Lynn and I studied the layout of the estate, we discovered that the garden was in full view from the balconies of the upper stories, no doubt a pleasant respite from the intense heat of many an Ozark summer.

What remains of the terraced garden

The original retaining wall that graced the front of the Van Winkle mansion

The Civil War Years

The dawn of the 1860s brought a sense of foreboding to the area; a bloody war between the states was inevitable. What was once believed to be a short lived skirmish turned into four bloody years of all out war. The entire Van Winkle family was disrupted in a profound way.

Van Winkle played a pivotal role for the Confederate cause; as the owner of the largest lumber mill in the area, he was commissioned to build a headquarters of sorts for the Confederate army. He ultimately built 39 cabins for Confederate commanders in the area, along with five stables for their horses. The location of the compound was critical; only 18 miles from the Missouri border, it allowed Confederate leaders to keep an eye on Union activity across the state line.

Prior to the Battle of Pea Ridge, Van Winkle loaded up his family and slaves and waited out the rest of the war in Texas. Peter and Temperance’s 9th child,  Robert E. Lee Van Winkle, was born there.

After the war, the Van Winkles returned to their home near War Eagle — but what they came home to would have caused men of lesser fortitude to crumble. But Van Winkle was not defeated.

In our next post, we will share what life was life in post- war Arkansas, and how the Van Winkles  influenced the rebuilding of the entire area during the difficult Reconstruction years.

As we’ve previously written, the years prior to Arkansas’ statehood were simultaneously exciting and terrifying. The story of Sarah Northrup Ridge and her family demonstrates this dichotomous fact perfectly.

Sarah Northrup’s father was a steward of the Foreign Mission School in Connecticut — one of the school’s founders was Dr Lyman Beecher, father of Harriet Beecher Stowe and patriarch of one of the most influential families of 19th century America. The school was founded as an effort to evangelize and educate people of color and to then train them to go and teach in their native communities. Chinese, Bengalis and Hindus were among the students — by 1820, half of the student population was made up of Native Americans of 6 different tribes.

Among those native Americans was Major John Ridge, a powerful Cherokee tribesman who became smitten with young Sarah. The two defied social norms of the day and married in 1824, centuries before such unions were remotely accepted, much less commonplace. Sarah and her “half-breed” children endured racial prejudice for the rest of their lives as a result of the marriage.

As it is wont to do, gossip among the local citizenry flew with abandon — some accused Dr Beecher of trying to marry off white women to Native Americans to more fully Christianize them. Others maintained that Sarah was only 16 when she was married (she was actually 20); even more creative members of the public asserted that Major Ridge abused his young wife.

The couple decided to relocate to the Cherokee nation in Georgia — no doubt hoping for a more accepting environment to raise their children. They took with them Sophia Sawyer, a young teacher from New Hampshire who the Ridges hired to educate their children.

Unfortunately, a welcome reception was not in the cards — the  Cherokee were even less enamored with the marital union in general, and with Marjor Ridge specifically.

Ridge’s father, John Ridge and his cousin Elias Boudinot signed a treaty with the United States government promising the relocation of the Cherokee to Indian territory in Oklahoma. Ridge mistakenly believed that the majority of the Cherokee people would readily agree to the relocation. When they resisted the move, the United States government forced the relocation, resulting in the Trail of Tears, which claimed over 4,000 lives.

The Cherokee fully held the elder Ridge, Major Ridge, and Boudinot alls  responsible not only for uprooting their lives, but for the deaths of their fellow tribesman. On June 22, 1839, a mere 24 hours after summer solstice, a group of Cherokee exacted their revenge; they grabbed Ridge from his bed early in the morning and drug him out to his front lawn where they brutally stabbed him 29 times in front of his wife and children.

Sarah’s nightmare didn’t end there — the Cherokee relentlessly slaughtered her cattle and pigs and released her horses, which trampled all of her crops.

At this point, Sarah and her children relocated to Fayetteville, AR where her pristine home stands to this day. She brought along Sophia Sawyer, who immediately began her crusade to enhance education in the area (more on Ms Sawyers’ contributions in a future article.

The home of Sarah Northrup Ridge, located near downtown Fayetteville, AR

As for Sarah and her children, their physical safety was ensured in Arkansas, however, their struggle against racial prejudice continued, as it often does among the disenfranchised. The Cherokee nation attempted to claim the Ridge children’s inheritance due to the fact they were only half Cherokee. However, their inheritance was restored to them in 1847.

“Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed.” Peter S. Beagle

In 1797, one of Northwest Arkansas’s most prominent citizens was born in the state of Tennessee: Archibald Yell.

Yell epitomized the pioneer spirit and innate toughness required to help transform the area from a territory that was part and parcel of the Louisiana purchase into statehood in the mid-1830s.

Yell’s exploits during his half century on this  earth is the stuff of legends — he was a sergeant in the War of 1812 (Battle of New Orleans), then went on to serve as a first lieutenant  in the First Seminole War, then finished his illustrious military career as a Colonel in the Mexican War.

Despite his military service, Col. Yell was first and foremost a statesmen — he first came to Arkansas in 1831; President Andrew Jackson, who had favorably noted Yell for his service during the War of 1812, appointed him as the Receiver of Public Monies in Little Rock.

Forced to return to Tennessee shortly thereafter because of  a bout of malaria, he returned in 1835 when he was appointed as a territorial circuit judge. That same year he built a home and law office in Washington County. As Arkansas made the transition from territory to state, Yell was instrumental in helping draft a state constitution.

From 1840-1844, he served as second governor of Arkansas – he resigned at that point and returned to Fayetteville and began practicing law with his partner, David Walker.  As fate would have it, he ran against and ultimately defeated Walker in the congressional race the same year he left his gubernatorial position.

Law office of Archibald Yell

Ever the quintessential patriot, Yell volunteered as a private during the Mexican War — he rose up the ranks and became a Colonel. Serving in this capacity, he had a difficult time maintaining discipline among his troops.

Although his reputation suffered as a result of the antics of his infamous group of soldiers, Yell redeemed himself during one of the final battles of the War.

Santa Ana ordered General Zachary Taylor to surrender at Buena Vista — after Taylor refused, all hell broke loose.  One newspaper reporter described the carnage that ensued as follows:

“. . .Imagine, for a moment, a battery charged almost to the muzzle with musket balls and slugs, fired three times into a dense mass of men and horses, at a distance of two hundred yards, and you can form some idea of the slaughter!”

Another newspaper account described Yell’s heroism, despite the desertion of a good number of Arkansas troops – his account describes Yell’s valiant effort to lead a charge against over a thousand Mexican soldiers, sword in hand.  After becoming “restive,” Yell’s horse led him right into the middle of the din — he perished after a lancet attack — the kill wound pierced his skull.

Tombstone of Archibald Yell. Although originally interred on the Yell farm, his remains, along with this original monument, were later relocated to Evergreen Cemetery in Fayetteville.

Despite his heroism, Yell wasn’t without his flaws: he purportedly had a hot temper, with a penchant for engaging in duels and various other brawls. Reports of his inability to rein in his soldiers also damaged his reputation, as did his unwillingness to directly face the issues confronting him as a Congressman.

But that’s as it should be — heroes, are after all, human; their flaws serve to make their courageous acts seem more attainable to the masses.

Home of David Walker, law partner of Archibald Yell

When we first decided to maintain a blog on all things wondrous in the Ozarks, we had a vague sense of what we wanted to convey. But over the course of the last two months, our goal has come into sharper focus.

Do you Imagine in Color, Do you See the Whole Picture?

When you think of the early settlers and pioneers in the United States, how do you visualize the people, places and events?

Schoolhouse in Benton County, Arkansas, established “in 1868 or before” – just a few years after Benton County resident Lt. James Harrison Kay’s Mississippi regiment fought the bloody Battle of Chickamauga — a desperate struggle for control of the Chattanooga.

This may sound like a strange question, but a few years ago I realized that when I thought about the early days of our country’s existence, I imagined events and places in black and white, totally devoid of color. I also viewed people of that era as severe, harsh, hardened, and not much like me at all.

It dawned on me that I likely did this because early photographs were in black and white — also, photographers back in the day discouraged their subjects from smiling, as the picture would likely be more blurry and distorted — they had to be absolutely still in order for a photograph to “turn out.” The point? Those early settlers laughed and smiled as much as we did; they also saw the same vibrant colors of redbuds across the landscape in early spring and the fiery flourescence of maple, oak and Bradford pear leaves ushering in the fall.

Lynn mentioned that when she thought about the past, she saw it in fits and starts, not as a cohesive whole — at best, the whole was not only a mere sum of its parts, the whole wasn’t even considered.

I think most people are like Lynn and I; when we began discussing this, the proverbial dawn came. What if we gave, not just a rendition of this or that person’s life, or this or that particular event, but a sketch of what was happening over the course of a few years in various parts of the Ozarks among contemporaries who may or may not have been aware of each other’s existences?

Embracing the Whole

For example, while Anthony Houston, who was born in 1792 was making a life for himself in Benton County Arkansas, what was fellow resident James Harrison Kay, a veteran of both the Mexican War and the Civil War, experiencing? How about Archibald Yell, the second governor of Arkansas who was felled by the Mexican War?

James Harrison Kay Burial Site

We were concerned by the fact that some pictures we will show are of gravestones — but realized that those stones gave us a starting point for where to look to uncover the greatest hidden treasures in the Ozarks — we will focus not on the dates of someone’s birth and death, but on the dash between those years — the stuff that made up their lives and contribute to our own lives decades and centuries later — even if we have been largely unaware of it. From there, we have discovered little known historic sites that bring have helped us piece together the everyday lives of extraordinary, early Arkansans.

We hope you enjoy reading what we’ve put together as much as we’ve enjoyed our journey of discovery.

To many, the name “War Eagle” is synonymous with craft fairs, funnel cakes and stone milled grains — but in reality, War Eagle is much more than that. The settling of this part of Northwest Arkansas is a fascinating story of grit, determination, and an undeterred, entrepreneurial spirit.

Sylvanus Blackburn – Not Your Average Teenager

The year was 1832, and 21 year old Sylvanus Blackburn set out from Tennessee to the Arkansas Territory, which was not formally admitted into the Union until 1836. It was not uncommon for early settlers to make their way from Tennessee to the area to start afresh — what may have been atypical, however – even for that particular era – was for  a young man to take on such an arduous and ambitious quest.

Five years prior to his Arkansas trek, 16 year old Sylvanus married Catherine Brewer, who was also 16 and a Tennessee native. They made the decision to travel to Arkansas after they’d  been married for five years and had had a couple of children.

After arriving in Arkansas, Blackburn and his son spent the night at the home of an acquaintance living in Lowell, Arkansas. The next day, he set out to explore a ford located on the War Eagle River.

Although Blackburn probably never heard the term “location, location, location,” he  must have intuitively known of the concept, as he chose 160 acres in the area (purchased for 13 and a half cents, per acre) to build a thriving – and still operational – grist mill.

His first order of business was to build a log cabin for him and his son to live in while he set about building the mill:

The following year, he sent for his wife, children, parents and slaves to join him there.

In 1838, the first of many setbacks occurred on the property — that spring, a flood destroyed the mill, which the tenacious Blackburn soon rebuilt. He also built a large two story home for his family to live in:

The War Eagle Bridge. The two story home beyond the bridge is the house Blackburn built for his family.

The mill  prospered right up until the Civil War.

Five of Blackburn’s sons joined the Confederate Army in the early 1860s; the Army used the mill during the war while Blackburn and his family relocated to Texas. The Confederates burned the mill two days prior to the Battle of Pea Ridge in an effort to keep the Federals from occupying it.

Sylvanus and Catherine endured an even harsher blow at this time: one of their beloved sons was killed in battle.

Reconstruction Years

Despite their undoubted heartbreak, Sylvanus and his wife returned to War Eagle and adopted several civil war orphans as his sixth son, James, began rebuilding the mill. In addition to housing a thriving business, the mill was the social epicenter of the area — a plethora of social events, weddings and dances were held at the mill through the years.

In 1890, Catherine Blackburn passed away — her grieving husband instructed grave diggers to leave her grave open until he could be buried next to her. Uncannily, his intuition was once again particularly acute, as he passed away just five days later. They are both buried in the Blackburn Family Cemetery in War Eagle.

From the time I first watched “The Wizard of Oz” at age 4, I’ve been fascinated (and terrified) by tornadoes.

Here in the Northwest Arkansas portion of the Ozarks, it’s relatively rare for a tornado of any real significance to blast through — that’s because of a phenom that scientists refer to as the “Bella Vista Split” — as bad weather makes its way toward the area from Tulsa (whether it’s an ice storm, thunderstorm, or tornadic activity), once the system hits the mountains of Bella Vista Arkansas, it “splits” – driving the worst of the weather to the northeast and southeast, where the the worst outcomes occur.

But such was not the case in April of 1947, when the Brightwater community of Rogers, AR, Garfield AR and Seligman, MO were hit with a massive tornado that claimed 21 lives.

And one family in Northwest Arkansas actually experienced an “Oz” moment and lived to tell the tale.

Path of Destruction

It was 8:00 p.m., on an early spring evening. The air was still, lightning appeared in the distance. Within minutes, all hell broke loose.

The 1947 storm began at Brightwater Crossing, a small community that built up around the Arkansas & Missouri Railroad — that town was virtually wiped out — the General Store was destroyed and those who were inside were all killed. Several buildings simply blew away.

Remnants of the Bright Water tornado — the community was never rebuilt

After desecrating Brighwater, the tornado headed toward a farming community close to Garfield, AR — the home of Vallis and Sylvia Ford was directly in the path of the storm — their daughter, Charlene recalls the horror of the experience:

“I remember hearing thunder and lightning, and then a loud noise, the sound of a freight train. My Dad asked [her older brother] Clinton to open the curtain to see what the noise was from. Just as he did that, the glass imploded all over him.

I was sitting on my mother’s lap and we were knocked over and a dresser fell on top of us — it fell on my legs, but directly on top of my mother — only her arm was sticking out from underneath.

I looked up and saw the wallpaper in our dining area start peeling off, from top to bottom — then I saw my dad literally fly across the room — later, he would say that what saved him from [certain death] was that he grabbed onto my mother’s arm — she had a deep bruise for months after the storm.”

They Weren’t in Kansas, but it Seemed Like They Were

“My Dad built that house himself, and it was made of solid oak — I think that’s why we weren’t killed.” But, in a true Dorothy moment, they realized the house had been picked up off of it’s foundation, and was laid down 6 feet to the west.

Next Post: Tending to their Neighbors