Jacob Lowden (1815-1892)

Parents: Stephen Lowden (1780-1852), Anna Elizabeth Liddick (1783-1866)

Siblings:

Polly Lowden (1808-1868) ] John Lowden (1810-1911?) ] Stephen Lowden Jr. (1812-?) ] Philip Lowden (1813-?) ] Thomas Lowden (1814-1901) ] [ Jacob Lowden (1815-1892) ] Rachel Lowden (1825-1906) ] Ann Lowden ] Elizabeth (?-1824) ]

Children:

Ann Lowden (1839-1839) ] Stephen Elijah Lowden (1841-1931) ] Jacob Anson Lowden (1843-1928) ] Hiram Smith Lowden (1845-1936) ] William Henry Lowden (1847-1921) ] Anne (Annie) Rachel Lowden (1849-1884) ] Milton Lowden (1851-1951) ] Martin L. Lowden (1852-1927) ] George W. Lowden (1854-1883) ]

Spouse: Phoebe Ann Smith (1815-1854)

Birth Date: 15 Apr 1815

Birth Place: Genesee County. N.Y.

Death Date: 1892

Burial: Trinity United Cemetery, Hannon, Glanford Twp., Wentworth Co., Ontario, CANADA

Notes:

See Milton Lowden's essay on pioneers.

Jacob came to Glanford in 1848 and settled on lot 16 concession 5, two miles west of the village of Binbrook, which, then, was usually called Hall's Corners

Jacob Lowden was born in 1815 in Genesee county (later Monroe county NY). He met Phoebe Ann Smith when she visited in that area. He married her, on 13 December 1838, at her father's home (Jacob L Smith, a grandson of (Pinewoods) Jake Smith, the first settler in Glanford township) They returned to New York state where their children Ann (1839), Stephen Elijah (1841), Jacob Anson (1843), Hiram (1845), William Henry (1847), and Annie (1849) were born. When he had the money to pay for a farm in Glanford township by 1849 they moved  to Ontario where Milton (1851), Martin L (1852) and George (1854) were born. Lowden descendants intermarried with Cloughs, Laidmans, Petitts, Bushes, Scotts, Stewarts, Youngs etc.

Spouse: Phoebe Ann Smith (1815-1854)

Birth Date: 6 Nov 1815

Birth Place: Glanford

Death Date: 10 Feb 1854

Burial: Trinity United Cemetery, Hannon, Glanford Twp., Wentworth Co., Ontario, CANADA

Spouse Father: Jacob L Smith (1784-1860)

Spouse Mother: Hannah Hagel (1785-1843)

Spouse Notes:

another source gives her birth as Oct. 14, 1816

another note gives her birth as 15 Oct 1815

Marriage Date: 13 Dec 1838

Marriage Place: Her Father's Farm

Note: Jacob, who was from Rochester, NY area [near mouth of Genesee River], was opposed to the use of strong drink and tobacco, and at one time he and his seven sons were all members of the same division of the Sons of Temperance

PIONEER TALES OF THE LOWDEN FAMILY -
compiled by Milton Lowden (1851-1951)

You may wonder how two living so far apart as my parents [Jacob Lowden and Phoebe Ann Smith] came to get acquainted. Strange things do happen. My mother had a chum who married a man named Nash who was a near neighbor of the Lowdens in the State of New York near the mouth of the Genesee River but was a near relative of the Nashes of Stoney Creek. In visiting her chum she first met my father whose brother Philip had married Nash's sister. As there was no railroad from Hamilton to Rochester at that time she had to go by boat and when the boat quit running in the fall there was no way for her to get home and so she had to stay there until spring. As the Lowdens and the Nashes lived on adjacent farms and visited frequently and what would you expect when a boy of twenty-three and a girl; of twenty-two met every few days during the winter. The result was that they became engaged and in less than a year were married.

My grandfather [Jacob Lewis] Smith and my father then bought the Glanford farm for the sum of $1,000, but as there was no cleared land on it and as they had not the cash to pay for it, father did not move to Canada until he had it paid for but worked a rented farm in the neighborhood where he had been brought up. He chopped wood in the winter to help raise money. He raised $600 and Mother's father paid $400. When it was all paid, he hired about seven acres chopped off and the following fall he moved on it with a family of four children, my brother Henry being about six months old.

My father had two brothers and a sister older than he, and two brothers and a sister younger. His brothers Stephen and Tom, and his sister Rachel were younger. His brother John lived to be a little over 100 years of age.

I never saw many of my father's family. My Aunt Rachel married a man by the name of Hall, and bought a farm twelve miles further west than the old Lowden farm. She and her children have visited Canada. My grandmother and Uncle Stephen put in one winter here when I was a boy.

My grandfather Smith married Hannah Hagul (sic) and had eleven children four sons and seven daughters.

The eldest son Elijah had the second farm west of my father's. He married the eldest Swazie who had the south half of the lot just north of my father's. He was a prominent member of the Methodist church. He had a family of eleven children one of whom live to be ninety-seven years. He himself lived to be ninety-four.

The second son Hiram had the farm just west of my father's from which he sold at one time timber for the sum of $18,000. He married [Charity Hess] Taylor, sister of Henry Taylor. He was an official in the Methodist Church. He taught singing school in his younger days and his son, Lafayette; was a noted musician. His daughter Hannah lived to be between ninety-five and one hundred years old.

The third son Anson (Benson) had a farm south of his fathers on the north side of the Twenty Mile Creek and I don't know how many daughters he had. He was a prominent Methodist and sometimes occupied the pulpit. He died at ninety-four.

Grandfather's youngest son died young leaving two children. His widow afterwards married Uncle [Benson's] eldest son.

Of grandfather's daughters, the eldest married Andrew Swazie, brother of Uncle Elijah's wife. She lived to be ninety-seven and good eyesight at that age. She had a numerous family some of whom lived to be over ninety.

The second Phoemia did not live so long. She married Henry Taylor brother of Uncle Hiram's wife. She had three sons and two daughters some of whom lived to be over ninety.

The next Phoebe died before reaching the age of forty leaving a family of eight children, seven sons and one daughter three of whom lived to be over ninety.

His daughter Cynthia married Elijah Burkholder. Two of her children died of diphtheria but eight of them lived to be a good age, some of them over ninety.

His youngest daughter, Christina, married father's cousin Cyrus Smith. She had no children of her own but raised quite a family and made a fairly good job of it. She lived to be ninety-seven.

Elizabeth and Catherine were Unmarried. They graduated at the Toronto Normal School and Elizabeth taught school for some time. They both lived to a fairly good age.

Large families were the rule at that time. My grandfather's cousin Samuel Smith had a family of eighteen children but they did not all grow up. This was the largest family I ever knew for one couple. His brother Gideon had sixteen children by two wives.

I will describe the way clearing was done. The first thing was to cut the small twigs as close to the ground as possible. (all up to the size for wood) Then cut out the ones intended for market falling them with their tops on brush piles if possible. Then cutting the ones for lumber and wagon spokes. Father had some excellent oak and was very good at cutting and splitting it, and so his spokes were in good demand. The next summer, having all the valuable stuff removed; when a convenient time arrived he would fire the brush. After the brush had been burned, he would take a wooden rake which he made himself and rake up the small chips into piles for burning. The large ones having been drawn to the house for summer fire-wood before the brush had been burned.

Then when everything was ready for logging it was quite customary to make a bee inviting the neighbours with their oxen for one day. When the bee was over, the rest of the logs had to be piled for burning. Sometimes Father and Benson (Anson) would do it without the help of Elijah when he was busy at something else. At one time such as this they had a heavy log and as they were putting it on the pile, it came back at them coming on Anson, and as it would soon have crushed the life out of him, father had to get it off him alone. He did it but he strained himself so that he never got over it and never had the same strength afterwards.

After the logs had been burned the ground was ready for the crop. The first thing to do was prepare a seed bed by harrowing it over. A harrow such as we use on cultivated land would be useless on newly cleared land so a special harrow had to be made in the shape of a letter "A" The side pieces which held the teeth were slanting a little back on the under side so as to slip over a root or other obstruction. This harrow was generally run over the ground a couple of times before the grain was sowed and after the grain was sown, it was harrowed again and in the spring the ground was sowed with timothy and clover and continued in sod about eight years at which time most of the stumps could be pulled with oxen and the ground ploughed.

Father always tapped the maple trees in the spring. The sap was caught in troughs which were made by cutting. a tall pine tree into lengths of about three feet and splitting through the centre and digging it out so as to hold the sap. These troughs of course, rested on the ground at the root of the tree and stayed there all summer. Late in the fall when they were filled with ice they were stood on end against the tree. When it got warm the ice dropped out taking the leaves and whatever in the troughs had gathered leaving the troughs fairly clean in the middle.

When the sap was gathered it was taken to the boiling place and poured into a large trough made by cutting a fine tree about three feet thick into lengths about ten or twelve feet and digging out the centre, Father generally had maple syrup and sugar all summer. By boiling the syrup fairly thick it would form a kind of rock candy around the sides and over the top and keep indefinitely.

Sometimes he was annoyed by the neighbour boys coming at night and boiling the partly boiled sap into sugar and have a treat. As the kettle had to be scoured before using again this was very annoying. One night while they were there, there was a light fall of snow and next morning their tracks were plainly visible, and father followed their tracks to their home and called them out of bed, They denied it, but father showed them their tracks which they could not deny. Two of them lived about a mile away and the third, a mile further but father got his name without going there. Father promised he would not tell his name if they would never do it again, but he told me about it after we were both married and was that father never had told it. That was the last time the neighbour boys troubled his sugar bush.

Several times I have heard father say that he had never attended school but three months, yet he could read fairly well and could count and subtract fairly well. His writing was confined to signing his own name. He once told me that my mother had taught him.

I do not remember my mother as I was under three when she died but I know it was a great loss to all. After mother died Aunt Katy ran the house until Aunt Betsy quit teaching and came to live with us. There was always a hired girl at $1.00 per week.

I do not know when father started to build the new house, but I do know that it was not finished until after mother died. It had an excellent cellar under the whole house. Some of the farms only had a cellar under part of their house and sometimes such houses held two families. A family of humans in the house and a family of skunks under it. There was no more comfortable nor convenient house anywhere than father had. There was a well in the cellar with a pump in the pantry which furnished the drinking water.

When Elijah was twenty-four years old he rented the Scott farm in Binbrook on the Chippawa Creek on which was a saw mill. He rented it for two years before he married Sarah Scott who continued to cheer him up to a good old age.

Not long after Elijah was married, Anson (Benson) married Kate Hagal, a cousin of mother's; and brought her home and then Aunt Kate and Aunt Betsey went to live in Mount Hope. Anson and Kate who was very nice lived with us a little more than a year and father bought the farm in Charlotteville where they moved.

I forgot to mention about the barn. I don't remember when the old barn was built but I was ten years old when the addition for the horses on its east end, and the addition on the west for cows and the open shed were built.

Father had a small garden between the house and the drive from the road to the barn and in this garden he had what you might call a small nursery where the seed of the fruit was sowed, and when the trees were about three years old they were planted in the orchard and grafted afterwards. There were a number of cherry trees on the hill east of the house. They had been raised from pits. Afterwards father bought two Black Tartawan cherry trees and two Merry Dukes and planted them between the house and the road. At the same time he bought a couple of grape vines and planted them on the south side of the house and trained them up. They also did well. One of the Merry Duke cherries died but the smallest one lived and bore more fruit than both of the Tartarrans.

During the winter of the deep snow father lost his largest apple trees by the mice peeling them.

Father would make a trip to near Winona every fall, going early in the morning, and buying apples on the tree shaking them down and gathering them up himself, and returning the same day. Then we would peel and core them and string them on string and dry them for use the rest of the year.

The first time we ever had plenty of apples for our own use there came a fall of snow on the 14th of October and the apples were all frozen. We got grandfather's old cider mill and made them into cider and apple butter, enough to last all summer. Uncle Hiram Smith shook his apples down in the snow and saved them. We never had any canned fruit when I was a boy. It was either dried fruit or preserved, a pound of sugar to a pound of fruit.

We were visited every spring with flocks of pigeons, ducks and geese. I once saw a flock of pigeons which completely covered the sky as far as the eye could reach. There were many thousands or perhaps millions of them. I took at least a minute perhaps two or three for them to pass over. It seemed much longer than that to me. I once saw a flock of wild geese pass over on their way to their home in the south. There were many thousands of them. This was after I was grownup. I only saw such a flock once, and this quite late in the fall.

Father was opposed to the use of strong drink and tobacco. At one time he and his seven sons were all members of the same division of the Sons of Temperance. If any of our visitors started to smoke he always opened the windows. I don't remember ever hearing him forbid any of us using tobacco but he often said that he never could see any good in it. Often when any of us would plan any mean trick he would say, "How would you like to have some one do that to you?"

Father was a leading farmer in our neighbourhood. He would often have a new kind of grain a year before any of the neighbours and if it proved good he would have a supply to sell the neighbours before the price came down.

Father used to visit his old home in the U.S. He would start in the morning and get back to his old home about noon of the third day walking the one hundred and twenty-five miles in two and a half days. He would return in the same time. He would always bring back some scions for grafting, thereby getting a good quality of fruit.

Hiram lost his hand by he and Anson playing with an axe when he was about one and a half years.

Milton maintained excellent health, taught Sunday school and milked cows until 94, had hyacinth blue eyes that seemed even bluer as he got into his nineties.

He fell down the cellar steps shortly after his 94th birthday. He was bruised from head to toe and it took some months for him to really recover. Meanwhile Edward's hired man kept forgetting that he was to milk the two cows that Milton had milked up to his fall. Before he was fully recovered the cows were sold. Each summer after that he continued to hoe in the garden. In the winter he crocheted gloves for everyone in the family. Only in the fall of 1950 did he begin to seem less than well, and gradually grew weak.

My mother told a wonderful story of his death. She was on the couch in his room when he suddenly sat up in bed, looking towards the door. She said the smile on his face was such that she could imagine him greeting those he loved. He fell back in the bed and when she got to him he was dead. She said that she never felt afraid of death after that.

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