Yankee Pride
The term Yankee is often used to describe those individuals who had been established in the Eastern United States and who later emigrated to other regions of the country. Many of the Yankees who settled in the Springdale area were of Scotch descent. On Sunday, May 4, at the site of the Oak Hill Cemetery, a marker honoring these Scottish pioneer settlers was dedicated. The sound of bagpipes could be heard wafting through the area, and many descendants from scotch pioneers were present at the occasion. After the dedication, the group moved to the Zwingli U.C.C in Mt. Vernon where a reception was held.
Among those in attendance at the ceremony was Delma Donald Woodburn. Delma's grandfather, Reverend Donald was pastor at the Scotch Presbyterian church which was formally near the marker site. Delma was honored at the event by the Dane County Historical Society, for which she was the groups founding president. During the reception Delma commented: "You cannot have a future without a past." Delma has worked throughout her life to insure that future generations have a link to the past. Her dedication to furthering the goals of the State, the County and the Mt. Horeb Area Historical Society are greatly appreciated.
The following selection from Melchoir Koch speaks of the scottish influence in the Riley area.
(an exerpt from "The Sugar River Saga")
Another character playing a prominent part in the drama of this narrative is Bob McCaughey, better known far and wide as William John. This staunch Scotch citizen was the true picture of the thrifty Scot of old. His cottage-style home built on the highest point in the village was surrounded by a large garden which provided much for the family larder for his good sized family of boys and girls. William was employed by the Chicago North Western Railroad as a section hand, as they called them in those days. When the so-called pay car came along, well guarded, and paid the section hands $1.25 per day for ten hours of labor- and that word labor meant what it read in Capital "L"-yet William John, in spite of his meager pay, his long hours of work, his large and well cared for family, thrived and prospered and always had some money to lend to his less thrifty and fortunate neighbors. If ever the word "canny Scot" meant anything literally, it surely did in the character of William John.
But ere we get away too far from our friend, William John, we must come to one of the typical Rileyites, the village blacksmith known as Sep Ireland. He was of Scotch-Irish descent. Whether or not he inherited the best or the worst of both his ancestors, I will leave to your kind judgment. He officiated as the village strongman, baseball umpire, auctioneer, expert horse shoer. His dry humor prevailed above all his work. His true worth and character came to life as an auctioneer. That was one time Sep would be all dressed up truly different: bell bottom blue trousers, usually a brown coat, a checkered shirt and sometimes in one pocket a bottle of lemon juice to clear his throat. At least it was supposed to be lemon beverage, I would not vouch that it was such. But juice or none, his work was efficient. Scotch-Irish humor kept the crowd going and bidding if for no other reason than to hear Sep talk.
His activities did not end there. He was an inveterate hunter. Almost any day in rabbit hunting season, Sep and his hounds would set out and scour the local country side for game, and I have my serious doubts that Sep ever came home empty-handed. Of course, like all hunters he had many friends who enjoyed this sport in his company. Among them was Reverend Hausner, a Catholic priest in the little village of Pine Bluff. The Reverend was an enthusiastic hunter. Although their religious views did not exactly dovetail, they saw eye to eye in this sport. But the Reverend's eyes were not as good across the gunsights as Sep's, and he would have gone home empty-handed many times if not for the eagle eye of the Scotch-Irish marksman. But Sep could not let Father Hausner get away without just a prank or two. On more than one occasion while the Reverend was getting his hunting togs on, Sep would exchange the loaded shells for blanks and even sitting rabbits were perfectly safe till the expensive pump gun was emptied of its harmless ammunition. But rest assured, the Reverend would have plenty of rabbits when he went home even if Sep would have an empty game bag for the day.
This, like many of his pranks, was all in good harmless fun and no one was hurt. He was supposed to be able to repair any kind of machinery, shoe any kind of horse regardless of disposition and usually accomplished this work even after a hard day of hunting. People would just wait until he returned.
One incident involved a lady by the name of Mrs. Hosea Emery, who asked him to repair her spectacles. As both Sep and most everyone would know, she was as we would kindly say a bit unusual. But Sep told her to call for them in an hour and the job would be done, and done it was. Sep removed the lenses and returned her the frame and in a kindly serious voice said, "Try them now." The lady did just that with an exclamation of joy that she could see real well now. This was just one of the harmless pranks played by this all around useful citizen of Riley Station.
He lived a long and active life, having lived four score and ten years. He spent his last years with his daughter, Nellen, as she was called. Even in his old age he kept his humor and cheer, but he has now gone to his reward. Many memories still hover over the spot where his blacksmith shop stood, where the ring of the anvil and the rattle of harness from the horses has since long been only a memory. May he rest in peace among his hundreds of friends whom he both favored and amused in his long career in the Hub of the Sugar River Valley.