Ketchum - Cassy remembers 100 years - Montgomery InGenWeb Project

Only the older citizens of Crawfordsville know that the famous Gen. E. R. S. Canby was raised here and that his old nurse who watched over the slumbers of his babyhood still lives. Gen. Canby was treacherously shot down by the great Indian Chieftain, Captain Jack, and his death precipitated the Modoc War which will go down in history as one of the bloodiest of Indian outbreaks. Old Aunt Cassy Ketcham, who guided the first footsteps of the murdered Canby, now lives with Zack Williams, on East Wabash Avenue, and is in her 101st year. A Journal reporter called on the old lady the other day and found her in good physical and mental health. She is a full blooded negress and bears her years remarkably well. She uses a light cane in walking, but climbs steps without assistance. Her features are sharp but pleasant and she dresses after the manner of the good old days. A blue turban covers her snow white hair which is collected in a bunch on the top of her head, and a bright red shawl protects her shoulders. She wears a large plain ring and is still fond of the ornamental. Her eyes are large and bright, yet her sight is the only sense which is at all impaired, her hearing being particularly acute. In answer to a few questions of the old lady gave the following sketch of her life:

“I was born a slave in Prince George County, Maryland, on October 13, 1790. I know very little of my parents, my mother dying while I was a baby and my father living on a distant plantation on the property of a man named John Allen. I remember seeing him only once or twice, but remember my one sister and two brothers quite well. I was owned in Maryland by Miss Nancy Spriggs. She was an old maid and very wealthy, owning hundreds of colored folks. As my mother was dead, I was placed with an old mammy who took care of the orphans, and was allowed to play all I wanted to. One night I woke up and found the quarters were on fire. There was a row half a mile long burned down, but God spared all us little children that time. When the quarters burned, Miss Nancy took me for a house girl to the mansion. There I learned to knit and carry cool water to the ladies as they sat on the verandas in the warm, sunny afternoons. The work was easy and I played most of the time. Miss Nancy entertained elegant folks from Washington and would go there herself sometimes. When she came back, she would come toting a whole parcel of Jerusalem apples (tomatoes) and other truck. She liked to bring things home from Washington even if she could get them right at home. I can’t remember so much about my life in Maryland, because children in those days were not like the children now. No one told them anything and they were not allowed to ask questions. What I remember best is the fruit, the strawberries and peaches which were finer than I have ever seen since. I never saw General Washington, but Miss Nancy used to drink to him and all the ladies bow and smile. I remember the war too, and how one warm afternoon the soldiers with red coats and white breeches went marching by on the dusty road from Bladensburg looking tired and worn. Folks all laughed and said they had to go back because they were whipped, but the night before they didn’t talk that way. They were all scared and didn’t laugh until they heard the men in the red coats had been whipped in the dark at Bladensburg. Then everyone joked and laughed loudly at the soldiers as they hurried back to the sea. The men in red coats said nothing but hurried on and I have never seen them since, and I reckon they are all dead now. Miss Nancy was mighty good to all of us and would never sell anyone. She rented a man named Tom once though to John Mercey and when he came home he was wearing a tow shirt. Miss Nancy saw him cross the yard and in her wide hoped dress stood on the veranda and shook her fan at him saying, “Tom, Tom, go to the quarters and put some clothes on. Don’t go dressed like that.” Then Miss Nancy talked about trifling John Mercey who whipped his folks and gave them tow shirts to wear until her black eyes shone like beads. Those were happy days. But one day Miss Nancy died and the black folks all were weeping around while the relatives buried her and came home to divide the property. Dr. Danby was Miss Nancy’s young cousin and I was given to him as he was going to Kentucky. The night before we left, my father came over from Allen’s plantation and I told him and my brothers and sister good bye. I never heard one word from any of them afterwards and reckon they are all dead by this time.

We made the trip from Maryland to Boone County, Kentucky, in wagons and the journey was a long one through the woods and down the Ohio River. In Boone County I had a good time always and married twice. Once to John Griffin and last to Andy Ketchum. Dr. Canby finally removed to Madison, Indiana, and took Andy and me with him. We lived there for some time and one day General Jackson, who had recently been made President, passed through on his way from New Orleans to Washington. He visited Dr. Canby and appointed him land agent at Crawfordsville to succeed Mr. Whitlock, the Whig. We came in wagons and again had to go through the woods. We made our last stop at Jimtown. There was only one house there then owned by a blacksmith named Wick. Crawfordsville was a mighty small town then and Dr. Canby was a great man in it. His house stood where the central school yard was his door yard. He built a big house with 40 rooms in it and folks called it “Canby’s Folly.”  The doctor was married twice and had nine children. Dick Canby, who was killed by the Indians, was the best one of all. I remember so well when he was born and I nursed him while he was a baby. Many a night I sat up with him and he was always good to me. He was smart and hot headed and I remember once he had a fuss with his school teacher. In the morning when school time came, the Doctor said, “Richard, it is time for you to go to school.” Dick replied, “I am not going anymore.” “Tut, tut, tut,” cried the Doctor, “pick up your books and off with you at once, young sir!” Dick did it and after that got along with his teacher and his books.

Finally he went off by the stage to West Point and after that I saw but little of him. I finally bought the lot where George Hurley lives now from Dr. Canby and lived in my house then many years. My last child, Kittie, married Henry Wilson and he died of the smallpox. Then at length Kittie died too and I sold out to Mr. Hurley. For the last 16 years I have lived here waiting for the call of the good Master. I’m a Methodist and leave my future to the Lord. He has always been kind to me and although I lived in bondage, I was freer and happier than many who had no masters, happier I’m sure than all who were not servants of the Lord. I do not want to die, but I am ready to go when the great Taskmaster says “well done.”

Aunt Casandra speaks as good and as pure English as most white persons, she having been a house servant all her life and so constantly thrown with people of education and refinement. There is no doubt as to her age being correct. She has certificates of registry properly signed and sealed which settled the question beyond the shadow of a doubt. The old lady seems good to live many years yet and will likely survive another decade. She is always brighter in the morning than in the evening and is always pleased to receive friends. Several years ago she made a trip to Missouri to visit Howard Canby, a brother of Gen. Canby, to whom she was also nurse. She never expects to leave Crawfordsville again, however, until with her house in order, she shall silently pass away to again mingle with her friends of a century ago who now await her in a brighter country far away.