FULTON COUNTY
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Fulton.
Fulton County was formed
February 28, 1850, from Lucas, Henry, and Williams counties. Its service is pleasantly undulating,
and is drained by tributaries of the Maumee. Its soil is fertile. Being originally heavily wooded, its
early settlement was slow. Its area
is 400 square miles. In 1885 the
acres cultivated were 124,300; pasture, 25,032; woodland, 53,834; lying waste,
2,632; produced in wheat, the 375,532 bushels; oats, 362,327; rye, 12,132;
corn, 680,014; butter, 531,773 pounds; cheese, 452,240; wool, 188,294; sheep
owned, 40,992. School
census 1886, 6,696; teachers, 142.
It has 33 miles of railroad.
Township And Census |
1840 |
1880 |
Township And Census |
1840 |
1880 |
Amboy |
460 |
1,291 |
German |
982 |
2,989 |
Chesterfield |
538 |
1,011 |
Gorham |
906 |
2,027 |
Clinton |
708 |
3,725 |
Pike |
485 |
990 |
Dover |
381 |
1,058 |
Royalton |
570 |
1,096 |
Franklin |
720 |
1,207 |
Swan Creek |
621 |
1,528 |
Fulton |
625 |
1,559 |
York |
784 |
2,572 |
Population in 1850 was 7,070; in 1860, 14,043; 1870, 17,789; 1880 21,053,
of whom of 14,907 were Ohio-born; 1,485, New York; 902, Pennsylvania; 185,
Indiana; 569, British Empire; 731, German empire.
Wauseon, named from an
Indian chief, is thirty-two miles west of Toledo, on the L. S. & M. S. R.
R., in the center of a fine agricultural region. County officers in 1888: Probate Judge,
Levi W. Brown; Clerks of Court,
Albert D. Smith, James C. King; Sheriff, Daniel Dowling; Prosecuting Attorney, Mazzini Slusser;
Auditor, Abram W. McConnell;
Treasurer, John B. Schnetzler;
Recorder, Harrison E. Randall;
Surveyor, Lucius B. Fraker;
Coroner, Levi E. Miley;
commissioners, James C. Vaughn,
Daniel T. Beddle, Sylvester W. Baum. Newspapers: North Western Republican, Sherwood
& Williams, editors; Democratic
Expositor, J. C. Bollmeyer,
editor; Fulton County Tribune,
Republican, Smith & Knoft,
editors and publishers. Churches: 1
Methodist, 1 Congregational, 1 Baptist, 1 Disciples, 1United Brethren, and one
Catholic. Bank of Wauseon, Barber & Callendar, E. S. Callender, cashier.
Workshops and
Employees. - Philip Shletz,
jacks and cider-mill screws; H. H. Williams
& Co., butter tubs and lumber, 18 hands; Meeks
& Cornell, saw mill; W. J. Harper,
Rugg machine; Wauseon Roller Mills, flour and feed,
18. - State Report for 1887. Population in 1880,
1,905. School
census in 1886, 576; W. S. Kennedy,
superintendent.
Wauseon was platted in 1854.
The first building was erected by E. L. Hayes as a store and dwelling in April of that year. In 1870 it became a county-seat.
Colonel D. W. Howard, of
this county, has given us the following valuable and interesting reminiscences
of early experiences among the Indians and pioneers of Fulton and adjoining
counties:
My grandfather, Thomas Howard, with my father Edward, an uncle Richard Howard,
with their wives and a sister, Mrs. Sidney Howard Nelson, left Yates County, N. Y., early in May, 1821, with
two emigrant wagons. Arrived at
Buffalo, grandfather, my mother and two HuntS,
with a girl cousin and myself, the only children, shipped on board a thirty-two
ton schooner, commanded by Captain Anson Reed,
for Fort Meigs; the men driving the team's (with
three or four cows and a few sheep) along the shore of Lake Erie; a trip of
many weeks duration and of much hardship, as there were scarcely any roads much
of the way.
The little vessel arrived safely after a
very rough voyage of more than a week, entered the dark waters of the Maumee on
the morning of June 17, and in the dusk of the same evening anchored in the bay
under the walls and frowning packets of Fort Meigs.
The
next morning the site of the Indian
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villages which lined either bank of the river, with the yells
and boisterous revelry of the inhabitants at their sports, filled us with
dismay who had never before beheld the face or heard the hideous yells of the
native redman.
The principal settlement on the river at
this time was "Orleanes," on the river
flats, immediately under the fort, on the north west
bank, and was largely composed of Canadian French. Business was almost entirely confined to
the Indian fur trade, which was carried on by John and Frank Hollister, General John E. Hunt, Robert A. Forsyth and Judge Wolcott,
whose wife was the daughter of the Indian chief Little Turtle.
F. C. Blackman, Photo.,
Wauseon.
Central
View in Wauseon.
The agriculture of the country was at this
time so limited, that it scarcely produced sufficient for the support of the
inhabitants; but the wild game of the country (such as wild turkey, venison and
bear meat), which was abundant, made up for the deficiency. A little settlement was started at
Waterville, six miles above Maumee City, in 1818, by John Pray, Deacon Cross, Whitcomb Haskins
and a few others; a few families, Elisha, Elijah, and
Richard Gunn, Mr. Bucklin Scribner and Samuel Vance, settled at Prairie Damascus, on
the north bank of the river, six miles above the head of the Grand Rapids
(twenty-five miles above Fort Meigs), about 1818, and
Pierce Evans, the Indian trader,
at Old Fort Defiance, at the mouth of the Auglaize river. The Indian mission was established ten
miles above Fort Meigs on the right (south bank) of
the river in 1821, and my father, Edward Howard,
with two brothers, built their cabins at the head of the Rapids, during the
winter of 1822-23, and were the first settlers above the mission (eight miles)
on the south bank, with Uncle Peter Menard
(Menor), a French trader, on the
Indian reservation, on the south bank.
The first settlers within the present
limits of Fulton County where Valentine Winslow
(whose wife was Cecilia Howard, a
cousin of mine), Col. Eli Phillips
and David Hobart, who came in the
summer of 1833, all of whom have long since passed to the other shore except
Col. Phillips, who is still
living, hale and hearty, on the farm on which he built the first cabin. The old pioneer was active at the
rearing of our Pioneer Cabin, several years ago, to commemorate the events of
the early pioneers.
The Old Maumee Mission. - The
Presbyterian Mission was established on the south bank of the Maumee, ten miles
above Fort Meigs and eight below the head of the
Rapids, in the year 1821 or 1822, about the time that my father and his two
brothers moved to their lands at the head of the Rapids of the Maumee.
At the time of its establishment there was
no settlement on the south side of the river above what is now the village of
Waterville, and my father and his two brothers with the aid of the mission
people cut the first wagon track, from opposite Waterville to the head of the
Grand Rapids, winding up and over deep gullies, and across several considerable
streams, such as the Tone-tog-a-nee (named from the great chief of the name,
whose village was at its mouth), Kettle creek and Beaver creek, which had to be
crossed by fording in order to reach their destination.
There
were several large villages in this vicinity. Tone-tog-a-nee (at the mouth of the
creek), Na-wash village on the Indian island immediately opposite the mission,
and on the opposite side of the river
side of the river Awp-a-to-wa-jo-win, or Kin-jo-a-no's Town , on the Indian reservation (opposite my
father's at the head of the Rapids), San-wa-co-sack,
on the Auglaize above Fort Defiance, and a large village at the mouth of the
river and along the bay, with numerous smaller towns of less
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note located on the banks of all the streams in the
country.
Rev. Isaac Van Tassel was the principle of the mission; Mr. Sackett and Rev. Mr. Coe, assistants, with their wives and
several maiden ladies as teachers, and together with a few mechanics and
laborers forming the community of white people that established and carried
forward the enterprise successfully for many years; in fact sustained it in its
work of Christianizing and civilizing the Indians until the tribes were by
degrees moved to their far-off homes in the West and Northwest, on the
Missouri, the Kansas and the Osage rivers and on the bays and rivers of the
Straits of Mackinack.
Mission schools. - I had a long acquaintance with those good
missionary people and have no words but kindness for them. While they may have accomplished but
little in Christianizing the Indians, they did the best they could for them and
with the best intentions. Their
work was one of great difficulty: white men and half-breeds sold whiskey to the
Indians, used all efforts against their patronizing the institution, and hired
the Indians to keep their children from school. It is easy for anyone to appreciate the
difficulty of establishing a school among these wild, fierce people - boys and
girls who had never been restrained, or their freedom abridged in the
least. To gather together one or
two hundred boys and girls of all ages, from six or seven to twenty years, was
no easy task; to ask them to come in out of the free woods, to close their
Indian sports of fishing and hunting and paddling in their canoes, of riding on
horseback, running races and other pastimes, was of course requiring great
effort on the part of these young savages, and after a few days experience in
the school-room, with all its attendant restraints, it cannot be wondered that
many of them took the trail back to their villages, having had enough of
civilization.
I appreciate the situation, as I had the
same experience and have not forgotten it to this day.
After the Indians became acquainted with
the mission people, and knew that they were true friends, their children were sent
to the school and most of the time they had from eighty to one hundred and
fifty in attendance.
The society bought a large and valuable
tract of land, including an island of about three hundred acres, upon which
they opened a farm, built a large mission house, and a commodious school-room;
where the teachers held forth to us for six long hours every day except Sunday,
when we had two good long old-fashioned Presbyterian sermons.
I have said we, and I do so for the reason
that I had (what I then thought) a sad experience at the old mission. When I was between seven and eight years
old my father placed me in the care of the Rev. Van Tassel, at the mission school. I was taken like the Indian boys from
the woods, away from my sports and associates at the Indian village opposite my
father's, or I had spent most of my time, as free as the Indian boys and, like
them, as wild as a partridge or wild turkey.
We spent the time at the village in
summer, shooting bow and arrows, fishing or swimming in the river, and in many
other plays and sports peculiar to young Indian boys, and you can imagine that
it was almost death to shut us away from all these pastimes; and shut up in a
school-room (where the presiding genius was a sanctimonious old maid of the
hard-shell, stiff-backed Yankee Presbyterian persuasion), where long prayers
were said morning and evening, and not a smile or whisper allowed.
Many of the Indian boys brought to the
school after a few days experience left between two days, and forever after kept
at such a distance that they could never be caught or tempted back. I would have gladly followed their
example and hid in the Indian villages, among which I had many friends, but
Indians were too honest and would not have kept me hid from my father and
mother.
Every effort was made by these earnest
missionaries, and always with the kindest manner, to induce these wild and
untutored people to believe in the Bible and its teachings, but with limited
success; they took education readily, but religion sparingly and
doubtingly. Although the great end
originally anticipated was not gained the mission did a good work; it educated
many hundreds of the youths of these tribes, of whom many in after years in
their new homes west of the Mississippi became good farmers and mechanics and
some of them are still living in Kansas and Indian territory.
Sports of Indian children. -We
enjoyed our Saturday half holiday.
In the winter season, when the river was frozen over, we skated on the
ice, both boys and girls, and when there was snow we enjoyed ourselves sliding
down the long hill on the bank of the river.
The sled was made of a strip of white elm
bark about one foot wide and six or seven feet long, with a bark rope or string
fastened to the forward end, in order to raise it above the uneven surface and
guide it down the steep and slippery path.
This was placed smooth side down, giving us the rough outside bark for a
foothold. We would start this Indian shute at
the top of the hill with as many boys and girls as could stand upright on the
bark and a leader on the front holding the string to guide it down the slippery
track. With lightning speed it
would fairly fly down the hill and far out on the ice on the river if successfully
guided; if not, you might be able to see a load of boys and girls piled up in
the snow, or scattered along the hill.
It took a brave boy with a steady hand to ride this Indian sled down the
steep hills, for after this bill was packed and the path beaten it became as
slippery as glass.
Another
Indian game was to take it two pieces of freshly peeled bark, a foot wide and
three or feet three or four feet long, place the two insides together and then
place them on the ground.
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Now the game was to run and jump on the bark, the feet
striking the rough bark of the upper piece, and unless well practiced in the
art, the upper bark would fly from under the moment the feet struck it. I have seen many a novice in the art fly
off when his feet struck the bark as if he had taken his departure for some
other planet. It took long and
careful practise to be able to strike a slippery part
and not go down. This exercise
created a great deal of amusement in our summer sports.
Nut gathering. - But the great enjoyable seasons were the maple sugar
making in the spring, and gathering hickory nuts in the fall of the year. The latter always commenced in the
Indian summer days in the fall, usually in November. After the frosts had loosened up the
nuts, they were showered down by every wind, and the ground would be white with
them, all free from the shell, lying ready to be gathered by the Indian
children or the coon and bears, that were very fond of
these rich thin shelled nuts. These
animals grew very fat on them, as there was always an
abundance, it being a great hickory country.
The abundance of the "shellbark"
hickory in the woods at that day (a very few of which still remain) was a
source of profit as well as pleasure.
Many thousands of bushels were annually gathered by the Indians,
purchased by the traders and shipped to eastern markets.
Rev. Isaac Van Tassel, the
head of the mission, was one of the kindest and purest of men, always just and
generous. His wife, the daughter of
Rev. Badger (one of the earliest
missionaries of the West), was equally well fitted by her universal kindness of
heart and manner to aid her husband in this noble work. Elder Coe
was one of the active workers and became a great friend of the Indians; they in
turn gave him their full confidence and from his exceeding kindest called him
the "Tender Heart." Mr. Thomas Mackelrath,
one of the teachers, was always kind to us: Miss Riggs, one of the "old
maid" teachers, was as kind to us as any mother could be, too good and
noble a woman to remain an "old maid," which I believe she did.
Mr. Van
Tassel removed to a farm near Bowling Green,
where he died about 1850. Mrs. Van Tassel survived her husband many
years, dying in Maumee City a few years ago, the last survivor of the mission
teachers. The kind-hearted old man,
"Old Coe," as my father
called him, died many years before Mr. Van
Tassel. When
the mission broke up, in 1835 or 1836, many of those still living returned to
their homes in the East.
Dayton Riley. - Prominent
in my memory of the characters of that time was Dayton Riley, a brother of the well-known William Reilly, who was taken in Algiers and
was a slave of the Arabs for a number of years. This man Dayton Riley wandered into this wilderness country about the time of
the founding of the mission, and being a carpenter and handy at all work, was
employed and made his home at the mission until it broke up. He followed the life of the trapper and
hunter, and after a hard and weary season of trapping would find his way back
to the mission to rest and recruit is failing strength during his declining
years. He became somewhat
dissipated, as most of his occupation do this sooner or later, but lived to
quite an advanced age.
Wauseon and Ottokee were noble red men. Finer or more perfect specimens of the
human physique, or of natural mental ability, are seldom found anywhere. Ottokee,
the older of the two brothers (or half brothers, as they really were), was a
man 6 ft. high, weighing about 200 lbs., and when speaking on the floor of the
council lodge was as dignified and as noble in demeanor as a Clay or Webster,
and had as much force and eloquence as their limited language would
permit.
Wa-se-on (which signifies far off) was not so fleshy, but had
a heavy frame and was quite as large a man as his older brother Ottokee, yet not so great an orator,
but a very intelligent man and a good speaker.
There were two other brothers of this
family named No-tin-no (or the
calm) and Wa-sa-on- -quet. The latter was at one time the head
chief of the Ottawas of the Maumee valley, but
through dissipation and debauchery, consequent upon his intercourse with the
white traders, he was "broken" of his office and reduced to a private
member of the tribe. He was one of
the most eloquent speakers I ever heard.
He died from the effects of whiskey soon after being removed west of
Mississippi.
No-tin-no, the oldest of the four brothers, was living the last
I knew of him. He was a good
speaker, but not as eloquent as either of his brothers. These men were the sons of the noted
Ottawa chief, O-to-sah, if I
remember correctly, by different mothers.
No two of them, I think, where full brothers, polygamy being a legalized
institution among all the Indian tribes with which I have been personally
acquainted.
Aw-pa-to-wa-jo-win,
or "half way," was about half way from the mouth of the river to Fort
Defiance, and also halfway from Detroit to Fort Wayne, the then two principal
trading points of the country. The
presiding chief of this village was an old man whose active life had long since
past but who was always received in the councils of the tribe with great
respect. His name was Kin-jo-a-no. This chief had but one son, a very
intelligent young man, whose name was Muc-cut-a-mong. He was killed, however, while yet a
young man, by the hand of his own cousin (Pe-way)
at one of the corn dances held by his tribe.
There
were many other noted chiefs of these tribes inhabiting at this time the
valleys of the Maumee, Auglaize, St. Maries and St. Joseph. Among them were Charlow, Shaw-wun-go,
Pe-ton-i-quet, Nac-i-che-wa, Oc-que-nox-ie,
the latter chief having his village on the Auglaize. This man was
Page 665
a natural-born savage, and really the only Indian I was
ever much afraid of when a boy, for he was ugly either drunk or sober, and
always manifested a desire or disposition to take somebody's scalp. He had great influence with the tribe,
especially in their councils of war.
All the other chiefs and headmen that I came in
contact with, without a single exception (when not crazed and maddened by
whiskey, or "fire-water"), were kind-hearted, generous and always
honorable.
The very last speech made by an Indian in
the country in council was made by Ottokee
at a treaty or counsel with the United States government agents, for the
purpose of their removal West. Many did not come into the council and
consent to be removed, but remained in the deep forests of the Maumee and
Auglaize valleys for a few years, wandering from place to place and camping
wherever they found a white man who was kind enough to allow them to do
so.
Ottokee and Waseon
were among the last to remove from this county, having gone West in the spring
of 1838. These chiefs lived but a
few years in their new homes and died comparatively young, Waseon being not over forty-five years
old.
The lands which were assigned to these
Indians, and to which they were removed, lie upon the Osage river
in Kansas, about sixty miles south of Kansas City and not far from the
flourishing village of Ottawa.
The old block-house is gone! It took fire
from the chimney on Monday, May 20, 1879, and was burned down. One by one the relics of a past
generation pass away, and this was almost the last one of any note in northwestern
Ohio.
The land was purchased of the United
States government, and the post established in the year 1831 or '32. It was put up as an Indian trading
house, used as a magazine, or in the French traders at parlance a store and
fort, for the safety of the trader and the protection of his furs and
goods. They were usually built of
hewn logs of great size, as this one was, and when completed with heavy split
puncheons for roof, made a building that was a perfect protection against the
assault of any ordinary band of drunken Indians or their more vicious
associates, renegade white men and half-breed Indians, who were often ugly from
a too free use of the white man's Schoo-ta-ne-be or
fire-water, which was always furnished them by the less sensitive or
unscrupulous trader.
Indian Trading House. -In the spring of 1832
my father engaged two white men, whose names I have forgotten, to build an
"Indian Trading House," as such buildings were called at that day on
the frontier. The house was located
near the site of the village of the chief Winameg,
furnished a stock of Indian goods early in the winter, and a regular Indian
trading establishment.
A young man by the name of Wilkinson, nephew of old Captain David Wilkinson, the veteran captain of the
lakes, was put in charge, as the French frontiersman would say, the Bourzwa of the concern, my father judging that I was a
little too wild to be at the head, and might shut up the block-house, mount my
pony and right away to some Indian village where a big dance was going on, and
say, as my old friend Frank Holister
said on such occasions, that it was a poor store that couldn't attend itself
sometimes.
Indian Goods. - The stock of Indian goods mainly consisted of red
and green blankets, with the pure white marked with broad black stripes across
the end, and always of British manufacture. Turkey red calicos and Merrimac blue,
with a few light patterns, blue and green English broadcloths, large cotton
handkerchiefs and shawls (used almost entirely for the head as turbines), guns,
tomahawks, butcher-knives, powder, lead shot and lead balls, brass trinkets,
rings, beads, wampum, small bells to ornament the sides of leggings, silver
brooches, rings for the nose and ears, with Turkish vermillion to paint the
face. Fine saddles and highly ornamented
bridles, trimmed with silver-plated bits, tinsel and colored leathers, were
great articles of trade.
The Fur Trade. - Many of the roving traders sold whisky to the
Indians; but as a rule the principal traders did not sell it to them, for it
destroyed the ability of the Indian to make much of a hunt, and of course was
not in the interest of the traders whose aim was the procuring of furs and
skins, which mainly constituted the trade.
Bear, wolf, otter, mink, muskrat, raccoon,
fisher, the red cross and silver-gray fox were the principal furs taken, the
beaver having nearly all disappeared.
The last beaver caught in the county was taken on the Little St. Joseph,
near the present village of Pioneer, in 1837, by a Pottawatomie chief named Me-te-ah, for which I paid in goods
twenty dollars, it being a very large one, and the last that had been taken for
many years.
The prices of these furs at that time were
$3 to $4 for bear, the same for otter, 40 cents for rat, 30 cents for mink, 50
cents for fox, $2 for fisher, coon 25 cents, deer-skins 75 cents to $1.25, wolf
25 cents, silver-gray fox from $25 to $75.
In exchange for these we sold blankets (according to size) from $2 to
$6, Turkey calicos 75 cents to $1 per yard, blue 50 cents to 75 cents, and all
other goods at about the same rates.
Lead was 50 cents and powder $1 per pound.
We had a very good trade for a year or two
at this post, and then the general government began to agitate the removal of
the Indians. The business of the
old house was changed to a country tavern, and was patronized solely by the
white man. The dusky form of the
Indian was seen no more about the spring and the camping ground, and his
familiar whoop and drunken song were no more heard passing the old post, for he
had taken up his line of march toward the setting
sun.
The Old
Council Elm. - This noble old tree, a monarch of the forest, has a
history connected with the incidents of the Maumee valley.
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The tree was a white elm, standing on a beautiful spot
on the north bank of the river, being four or five feet in diameter, and fifty
feet to the first limb. It was
crowned with an immense top that covered with its shade a number of square rods
of beautiful green sward. The spot
where it stood being at a point very near and overlooking "Grand
Rapids" (the grandest of the entire succession of rapids from Fort Meigs), and within sound of it's never ceasing murmur, it
was selected long ago by the Indians as the favorite council ground, and
consequently this tree became known in the early days by the traders and
settlers as the "Council Elm."
It was destroyed by a severe storm in
July, 1879. While the canal basin
and dam were being constructed at Grand Rapids, young Jackson, at that time a very young man, was the assistant
engineer of the Public Works of Ohio, in charge of this part of the public
work. He was somewhat acquainted
with the tradition and more recent history and was a great admirer of the noble
old tree, and loved to sit under its cooling shade and enjoy the cool breeze
during his leisure hours. On one
occasion one of the workmen kindled a fire on the roots of the old tree; the
young engineer, highly incensed, first put out the fire, and then calling out the
man who had built it, gave him to understand that in the future aggressions
upon the old elm would cause the perpetrator such chastisement as he would not
readily forget. This Jackson was well able and ready to
give, for he had without doubt some of the "Old Hero's" blood in his
veins, as I have often heard him express himself in strong language, using
"By the Eternal" with the variatious, and
woe be to him who fell under his displeasure, for cause.
The once large and populous village of
Kin-jo-a-no, or Ap-a-to-wa-jo-win,
was situated at the foot of the Grand Rapids, nearly a mile below the old elm,
and as the tree was isolated from the noise and turmoil of an Indian village,
it was frequently selected as the council ground for many important gatherings
of the chiefs and headmen of the Ottawas and Pottawatomies.
The great council which impressed me most
was the last council of any importance ever held under its spreading
branches.
Bad White Men. - It was some time after the lands had been ceded to
the general government, the Indians still retaining possession of lands.
After the treaties had been made the
valley renegade white hunters and trappers, whiskey-sellers, and bee-hunters
(for the hollow trees were filled with wild honey) destroyed the Indians traps,
often stole their horses, and run them far out of the reach of their
owners.
I was then a mere boy, but all my
sympathies were with the much abused Indians, and I was rather in hopes that
some dark night these intruders and renegades would be wiped out. But the better and wiser counsels of Wa-se-on, Ottokee, Pe-ton-i-quet, Nac-i-che-wa, and other noted chiefs
prevailed, and the Indians bore their wrongs with a grace and patience
unparalleled among civilized people.
Uncle Peter Menard, my father, and colonel George Knaggs, been great friends of the Indians,
were importuned to intercede for them with the government agent, that these
abuses might be stopped and redress made for losses already inflicted.
The Indian Council. -Col. Jackson, the kind-hearted agent, was
ready to cooperate with his friends in giving the redress asked for, promised
that the matter should be laid before the authorities at Washington, and called
a council to be held under the big elm.
Some days previous to the day set for the
council the Indians began to arrive; by the morning of the council-day the
chiefs and headman were nearly all present in the village, and at ten o'clock
the assembled braves were ready for the grand smoke and talk with the white
chief, O-ke-maw-wa-bush-ke. It was a warm day, and all enjoyed the
shade of the old tree. Seated upon
a log sat the dignified Col. Jackson,
and on his left Uncle Peter Menard
and my father. The Indians
composing the council sat on the ground in a semicircle in front of the white
men, and the younger warriors and hunters not admitted to the charmed circle
sat in groups under the shade of the old elm, silent but interested
spectators. Although a boy, I had
been chosen by Col. Jackson to
act as interpreter.
Speech by Ottokee. - At a
signal from the agent that the council was convened the head chief, Ottokee, lit the pipe of kinnekanick; it was passed from mouth to mouth, the white
men participating in the ceremony, and it was not until several pipes full of
the fragrant weed had been exhausted that the council was ready to proceed with
the "big talk." Col. Jackson then said that his "ears
were open, and he would listen to the words of the chiefs." After a few
minutes of perfect silence Ottokee
rose to his feet - a noble specimen of a native orator - and, with the dignity
of a prince, his arms folded across to his breast, he commenced the delivery of
the great speech of the occasion.
He portrayed in glowing colors of the situation of his people, the faith
they had kept with their white brothers and with their great father, the
President of the United States; that they believed his words when he said he
would protect them in their rights while remaining in their old homes from the
intrusions of white men until he should be ready to move them to their new
homes west of the great river (Mississippi), but he was so far away that he
could not see or hear his red children when they called to him in their
distress. They had called many
times to have him drive away the bad white men, but he did not hear them.
The
Great Father is good, but the white men fill his ears, and he cannot hear the
red men call. My white brother
sitting before me is the half-brother of the Great Chief at
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the Big House, and he has heard us and now listens to
what we say. The bad white men have
killed our deer, trapped our otter and mink, have stolen our horses and abused
our women, have camped on our land and called it their own, and when we tell
them to go they hold up their rifles and they say they will shoot. What must we do? We have waited many,
many moons, very long, for our Great Father to drive these bad men from our
land, but he has not done that, and if we drive them he will be angry with
us. He has women,
he has children; will he let bad men abuse them? No! He will not! Our Great
Father is a great chief; he was at the great river when our British brothers
from across the big water tried to take the country away from him, but he would
not let them land. Our father is a
great chief; he is brave; will he protect his red children? I have
spoken," he concluded; "My brother will speak."
Col. Jackson
answered this speech by saying that his heart was good and his ears were open,
and he would let the president here all the words of the great chief, Ottokee. "Let the other chiefs speak,"he said.
"I will listen."
Speech of Nack-i-che-wah. - One
after another the chiefs rose in their places and spoke much in the same spirit
as Ottokee, some more vehement
than others, some with moderation; all, with one exception, counselling
peace. Nack-i-che-wah, the most active of the chiefs, and the
greatest orator of his tribe, or his nation, or in fact of the neighboring
tribes, was more bold and outspoken.
He said they had listened to the sweet words of the Great Father and believed
them, but they were like the singing bird: sweet while you listened, but it
flew away; it did not come back, and you heard its voice no more, and did not
answer when you called it to come back.
And our Great Father had sent his chief to tell us his words of honey:
our ears were open, we heard what he said, and we believed them, but our Father
has forgotten his words, and his red children are sorrowful. Shall we, too, forget that we signed the
paper, ton-ga-nun-me-gwan, and draw the tomahawk and
drive these dogs of pale-faces from our hunting-grounds?
We called to the Great Father many times
and he does not hear us. Are his
ears closed to the complaints of his red children? I have done.
So earnest the manner of speaking and so
deep the interest that all felt on this momentous occasion, no one had taken
notice of time, and it was late in the afternoon when the last speaker took his
seat among the monotonous guttural sounds of acquiescence in the arguments
presented by the chiefs in their defense of the rights of their usually quiet
people.
Col.
Jackson, the agent, then arose to his feet and in a very dignified
manner spoke to the Indians. He
said the President, the Great Father, had a big heart and he loved his red
children, that his ears were open and he heard the complaints of his people,
but the palefaces were as many as leaves upon the trees, and he must listen to
all, and he could not answer all at the same time. He had many, many more red children to
listen to, who must be heard, his ears were open and all should be heard in
their time.
"My white brother," he said,
referring to my father, who was acting secretary for the council, "has
taken the words of the great Chiefs and put them on the paper; they will be
sent to the Great Father and he will read them; his heart is good and he will
answer his red children. He will
pay them for the losses of their horses and their traps and the killing of
their game. I will call the chiefs
together when his word comes back and tell them what he says. Have my brothers anything more to
say?"
A murmuring sound of satisfaction, "Wa-ho," went through the council, and Ottokee answered that his people were
satisfied with their brother's words and that they were done. Col. Jackson
took his seat, the tomahawk pipe of kinnekanick was
again lighted and passed around, and after all, both white men and Indians, had
participated the council broke up and the Indians repaired to the adjoining
village where they partook of a bountiful feast of beef, pork, and corn prepared
for them by the order of the agent, a custom always adopted by the government,
when holding treaties or councils with the Indians.
The council broke up with perfect
understanding and good feeling among all the Indians present, with a perfect
reliance that government would remunerate them for the losses they had
sustained and drive the intruders from their lands, and for once the government
kept its word with the Indians.
Fayette, near the border
line of Ohio and Michigan, is surrounded by a fine farming section. It is on the W. St. L. & P. and L.
S. & M. S. Railroads.
Newspaper: Record,
Independent, Lewis & Griffin,
publishers. Churches: 1 Methodist
Episcopal, 1 disciple, and 1 Christian Union. Bank of Fayette, C. L. Allen, cashier. Industries: 2 saw, 1 planing,
and 1 grist mill, 1 creamery, and 2 novelty manufacturing establishments. Population in 1880,
579. Is the seat of the
Fayette Normal Music and Business College, a growing institution.
Delta,
on L. S. & M. S., 35 miles west of Toledo, surrounded by a fine
agricultural country. Newspapers: Atlas, Independent, E. L. Waltz, editor; Avalanche, Republican, J. H. Fluhart,
editor. Churches: 1 Presbyterian, 1
Methodist
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Episcopal, 1 United brethren, 1 Free Methodist. Bank of Delta, William E. Ramsey, cashier. Industries: Delta Oval Wood Dish Company, 1 grist, 2 saw, and 1
planing mill, brick and tile works, 3 wagon and
carriage shops, large pearlash factory, 1 cheese, 1 washing
machine, and 1 broom factory. Population in 1880, 859.
Archbald is eight miles west of
Wauseon, on the L S. & M. S. Railroad.
It has newspaper: Herald,
Non-partisan, W. O. Taylor,
editor. Churches: 1 Catholic, 1
German Reformed, 1 German Lutheran, and 1 Methodist Episcopal. Population in 1880,
635. School
census 1886, 260.