Today’s weary highway traveler has a choice of at least a couple or more lodgings near the off ramp. However, that was not the case for weary travelers on the National Road in the age of the stagecoach.
From the early days when the National Road crossed Warren Township on its way to Indianapolis, a two-story white painted brick tavern and inn stood, surrounded by a grove of cedar and locust trees, along the road on a slight rise at the northwest corner of what today is East Washington St, and Butler Ave. John Wilson, an early settler in the area, built the structure from bricks he made on site. For some years previously, he had operated a tavern/inn that was two log houses connected by a covered entry between them on an old Indian trail that became the Centerville Road.
The new hostelry had seven rooms downstairs and a large single space on the second floor, forty feet long by sixteen feet wide, that had twelve beds. Known as the “Wilson Tavern,” it was distinguished by a sign swinging in an iron frame from a post out by the road that had the proprietor’s name lettered on it and the painted image of a plow. Some travelers jokingly called it the “plow factory” according to John Wilson’s son, Alfred Wilson.
The 1830s and ‘40s saw a great tide of emigration westward and the National Road was almost continually thronged with travelers. Lines of wagons pulled by oxen, led by men walking alongside of them, were joined by travelers on horseback, many of whom stopped at the Wilson Tavern. While those traveling in wagons camped west of the tavern on the ground between the road and Pleasant Run, others sought shelter in the tavern, and Alfred Wilson recalled “many nights when you could not walk [in the large room] without stepping on some human being. They slept under the beds and everywhere.”
John Wilson died in 1840 and his son-in-law Aquilla “Quill” Parker assumed ownership of the tavern. On the post hung a large wooden sign, painted in blue with jumbo white lettering, announcing the “Parker House” to travelers. Two years later, in October 1842 the Parker House entertained Senator Henry Clay of Kentucky who was on his way to Indianapolis. The distinguished guest stopped for his noonday meal and Quill Parker was so impressed that he commemorated the event by naming his son Henry Clay Parker. Another traveler on horseback, Hoosier statesman George W. Julian, would often stop at the Parker House for lunch or dinner on his way to and from Centerville to Indianapolis.
A near tragedy came to the Parker House in the spring of 1845 when sparks fell from the chimney onto the dry shingle roof, igniting it. Despite valiant efforts to contain the fire, the ensuing blaze destroyed the building’s wooden interior. The sturdy brick walls remained standing along with the adjacent kitchen and Quill Parker quickly had the living spaces restored. Fortunately, the household furnishings had been saved and the Parker House was soon back in business.
When the National Road was paved with planks, the improvement over the old mud thoroughfare facilitated travel. Often a cavalcade of brightly colored show wagons, with streaming banners stopped at the Parker House for a week’s stay and groups from Indianapolis went out to the inn for “a good old-fashioned dance.” Fourth of July celebrations, with food and fireworks, drew folks from far and near to this National Road landmark.
The Parker House, from time to time, welcomed guests with an air of mystery. Late one fall day in a year long forgotten, a stagecoach pulled up in front of the hostelry and a well-dressed man alighted, directing the hired man to retrieve a small case from the coach’s boot. The chest, unusually heavy for its size, was taken to the man’s room. Over the next several days, the stranger rose early, and dressed in plain hiking clothes took his breakfast then left carrying a sang hoe, a small, short handled digging tool. Returning as the shadows began to lengthen towards day’s end, he took supper in his room and retired for the night. One evening Quill Parker asked him about this unusual daily routine and the stranger replied, “Ginseng.” He explained that he was looking for areas abundant in ginseng with the intention of building a factory to process the plant for export to China where its magical rejuvenating powers had long been revered. The man also said that he would be leaving in the morning.
Morning came and nearing the time of the coach’s departure, the stranger had not been seen. Parker went to the man’s room and found him dead. A quick search of the dead man’s clothing found no identification and the small chest that was so heavy contained only a few articles of clothing and a slip of paper or two. Later that day, the “ginseng prospector” was laid to rest in the Wilson-Parker Cemetery behind what is today the service station at the southeast corner of Emerson Ave. and East Washington St. Many speculated that the “heavy chest’ contained treasure, small bits of which the stranger took with him each to bury in the woods around the Parker House. The mystery still remains to this day.
The coming of the railroad along the old Centerville roadbed in the early 1860s saw diminished traffic on the National Road, and the Civil War all but ended travel for business or pleasure. To increase revenue to support the war effort, the federal government imposed a license fee on hostelries which cut into the Parker House profits. Facing these pressures, Quill Parker closed the Parker House doors in 1864.
In the ensuing years, ownership of the property passed over to others and the old inn was used as a residence until 1893. It was then uninhabited for the next couple of years except by the “ghosts” which Butler students raised from time to time. In the spring of 1895, the Parker House was sold for $20 (2021: $674) and razed.
