Visit the Descendant’s Registry
Adams
Historical
Collections of Ohio
By
Henry Howe
Vol.
II
©1888
VAN WERT COUNTY
Page 719
VAN WERT COUNTY was formed April 1, 1820, from old Indian territory. The surface is level, and the top soil loam, and the sub-soil blue marl and very deep, and, what is remarkable, of such tenacity that water will not sink through it. Hence, in wet seasons, the crops are poor from water standing on the soil. When the country is cleared and drained, this difficulty will be obviated. The soil is very rich, and the surface covered with a great variety of timber. The principal product is Indian corn.
Area about 400 square miles. In 1887 the acres cultivated were 113,001; in pasture, 15,839; woodland, 63,566; lying waste, 1,202; produced in wheat, 222,667 bushels; rye, 13,763; buckwheat, 692; oats, 396,763; barley, 502; corn, 1,201,750; broom corn, 1,000 lbs. brush; meadow hay, 17,055 tons; clover hay, 4,926; flax, 8,000 lbs. fibre; potatoes, 54,454 bushels; butter, 446,769 lbs.; cheese, 150; sorghum, 5,222 gallons; maple syrup, 326; honey, 8,551 lbs.; eggs, 571,773 dozen; grapes, 3,878 lbs.; wine, 36 gallons; sweet potatoes, 354 bushels; apples, 16,506; peaches, 29, pears, 177; wool, 49,388 lbs.; milch cows owned, 6,141. School census, 1888, 9,545; teachers, 254. Miles of railroad track, 102.
|
Townships And Census |
1840 |
1880 |
|
Townships And Census |
1840 |
1880 |
|
Harrison, |
168 |
1,481 |
|
Ridge, |
211 |
1,587 |
|
Hoagland, |
40 |
1,180 |
|
Tully, |
99 |
1,610 |
|
Jackson, |
|
800 |
|
Union, |
|
1,026 |
|
Jennings, |
88 |
1,236 |
|
Washington, |
47 |
3,815 |
|
Liberty, |
117 |
1,553 |
|
Willshire, |
434 |
1,963 |
|
Pleasant, |
192 |
5,413 |
|
York, |
181 |
1,365 |
Population of Van Wert in 1830, 39; 1840, 1,577; 1860, 10,238; 1880, 23,028; of whom 19,072 were born in Ohio; 888, Pennsylvania; 606, Indiana; 241, New York; 215, Virginia; 73, Kentucky; 768, German Empire; 329, England and Wales; 109, Ireland; 57, France; 45, British America; 9, Scotland; and 3, Norway and Sweden. Census, 1890, 29,671.
Three of the northwestern counties of the State, Williams, Paulding and Van Wert, were named from the three captors of Major ANDRE. The details of the capture will be found under the lead of Paulding county. ISAAC VAN WERT, who gave name to this county, was a farmer in West Chester county, N. Y., and was born in Greenburg in 1760, and died May 23, 1828, aged 68. For many years he was an active member of the Greenburg church, and served as chorister until his death. The three captors for their service received the thanks of Congress and an annual pension of $200 and a silver medal bearing on one side the word “Fidelity,” and on the other the legend “Vincit Amor Patria.” He spelt his name Van Wart. A monument was erected to his memory by the people of Greenburg.
Below is the entire description of the county as it appeared in our original edition. It was written for it by Mr. James Watson RILEY, who laid out Van Wert, and of whom a notice is given under the head of Celina, Mercer county.
SKETCH OF VAN WERT CONTY IN 1846.
[From the Old Edition.]
Van Wert received its present boundaries and name in the spring of 1820, two years after the lands of the northwestern part of Ohio were purchased from the Indians, by the treaty of St. Mary’s. With most of the fourteen counties
Page 720
formed by the same act it was almost an entire wilderness, the surveyors’ marks upon the township lines being, with a few exceptions, the only traces of civilization in the whole region.
The ridge upon which stand the towns of Van Wert and Section Ten is a subject of curiosity to strangers. It is of great utility to the people of this county, and the others (Putnam, Hancock, Wyandot to Seneca), through which it passes, being at all seasons the best natural road in this part of Ohio. It is composed entirely of sand and gravel, and has an average width of about half a mile. Its highest point is generally near the south side, from which it gradually slopes to the north. The timber is such as is usually found upon the river bottoms, and although upon it are as large trees as elsewhere, yet in their character they form a striking contrast with the forest on either side.
At a depth of about sixteen feet, through sand and gravel, pure cold water is found, while through the clayey soil in the country adjacent it is often necessary to dig from twenty to forty feet. The ridge passes out at the northwest corner of the county and is temporarily lost in the high sandy plain near Fort Wayne. Crossing the Maumee, it can be distinctly traced, running in a northeasterly direction; when, although frequently eccentric and devious in its course, it runs nearly parallel with the river, being distant from it from one to ten miles; it is again lost in the sandy plains nearly north of Napoleon. Has not this ridge been the boundary of a great bay of Lake Erie! When its waters were, perhaps, 180 feet higher than now? The sand, gravel, round smooth stones and shells, all bear evidence of having been deposited by water, and the summit of the ridge is everywhere at the same level, or relative altitude.
Van Wert in 1846.—Van Wert, the county-seat, is 136 miles northwest of Columbus, and was founded in 1837, by James Watson RILEY, Esq. It is handsomely situated on a natural ridge, elevated about twenty feet above the general surface of the country, on a fork of the Little Auglaize. It contains 2 stores, 1 grist and 2 saw mills, and about 200 inhabitants.
The site of the town of Van Wert has evidently been an Indian town, or a place for winter quarters; the timber standing when first visited by the writer, and probably by white men, in 1825, was all small and evidently of a growth of less than fifty years, and several wooden houses, covered with bark, were in pretty good repair when the town was laid out in 1837; numerous graves, on a commanding bluff upon the bank of the creek, as well as the deep-worn trails upon the ridge up and down the creek, and in various other directions, bear witness that this deeply sequestered yet pleasant spot, unknown to the whites in all the wars, from ST. CLAIR’s defeat to the close of the late war, and, in fact, until after the treaty of St. Mary’s, was cherished by the Indians as a peaceful and quiet home, where they could in security leave their women and children when they sallied out upon the warpath, or hunting excursions.
At the time of laying out the town plat an old Indian of the Pottawatomie tribe was encamped near, and told the writer that he had with his family spent forty winters there and had expected there to leave his bones; but, added he, the game will soon disappear after your chain has passed over the ground; in a few days I shall take my leave, and, added he, while tears almost choked his utterance, I shall never return again to this place, and the haunts of the deer, the bear, and the raccoon, will soon be broken up, and brick houses take the place of my wigwam!! This Indian had been a brave, said “he owned a farm on the river Raisin, in Michigan, which he bought from the government.” He had a red-haired French woman, of near his own age, a prisoner taken from Montreal, in infancy, for his wife; but every winter he returned to his native haunts.
Soon after the first settlement of Van Wert a spring of clear pure well-water was found, which had been carefully hidden years before by the Indians with a piece of bark about six feet square. This bark had been peeled from a black walnut, flattened out, the earth scraped away from around the spring for about sixteen
inches in depth, the bark laid flat over all, and then the whole carefully covered with earth so that no trace of the spring could be seen. After removing the bark the spring again overflowed and resumed its old channel to the creek.
CAPT. JAMES RILEY was the first white man who settled in Van Wert county; he moved his family into the forest, on the St. Mary’s river, in January, 1821, and began clearing up a farm and the erection of mills. In 1822 he laid out a town on the west bank of the river, opposite his mills, and named it Willshire in honor of his benefactor, who redeemed him from African slavery. His sufferings during his shipwreck on the coast of Africa, and subsequent captivity among the Arabs, have been detailed in a volume by himself, with which the public are already familiar. In 1823 he was elected as a single representative to the State legislature, from the territory which now comprises the counties of Preble, Miami, Darke, Shelby, Mercer, Allen, Van Wert, Putnam, Paulding, Defiance, Williams, Henry, Wood and Lucas, fourteen counties, which now, with a largely increased ratio of votes, send eight representatives and four senators. During that session, which is justly pointed to as pre-eminent in usefulness to that of any one previous or subsequent, he bore a conspicuous part, and assisted in maturing the four great measures of the session, viz.:
The act for improving the State by navigable canals.
The revenue act, in which the first attempt to establish an ad valorem system of taxation was made.
The act providing a sinking fund, and an act for the encouragement of common schools.
The last named and so much of the first as relates to the Miami canal, were originated by him, and called his measures.
Capt. RILEY lived at Willshire seven years, but his health and constitution had been destroyed by his sufferings in Africa, and in the spring of 1828 he was carried to Fort Wayne for medical aid; after lingering on the verge of death for several months he was taken on a bed to New York, and in 1830 had so far recovered as to resume his nautical life. In 1831 he made a voyage to Mogadore, to visit his benefactor, Mr. WILLSHIRE, established a trade there, and subsequently made nine voyages to that country, during one of which he sent his vessel home in charge of another and travelled through Spain, to Montpelier, in France, for the benefit of surgical aid. The winter of 1839-40 he spent at Mogadore and the city of Morocco, which latter town he visited in company with Mr. WILLSHIRE, and in consequence of this visit the emperor granted him a license to trade with the people of his seaports, during life, upon highly favorable conditions, never before granted to any Christian merchant. On the 10th of March, 1840, he left New York in his brig, the Wm. Tell, for St. Thomas, in the West Indies, died when three days out, and was consigned to the ocean. The vessel returned to Mogadore for the cargo provided by him, and was wrecked and lost while at anchor in the harbor; all on board, save one, perishing.
Willshire, founded in 1822, by Capt. James RILEY, is in the southwest corner of the county, on the St. Mary’s river, and contains 1 church, 2 stores, 2 grist and 1 saw mill, and about 100 inhabitants. Section Ten is on the Miami Extension canal, and has a good canal water-power, as well as being the best accessible point on the canal from the county towns of Van Wert, Putnam and Allen. It was laid out in 1845 by O. H. BLISS and B. F. HOLLISTER, and has about 300 inhabitants.—Old Edition.
VAN WERT, county-seat of Van Wert, about 130 miles northwest of Columbus, at the crossing of the P. Ft. W. & C. and C. J. & M. Railroads.
County officers, 1888: Auditor, Lewis A. HARVEY; Clerk, Charles F. MANSHIP; Commissioners, Albert J. ROLLER, William FRECK, John C. ROBINSON; Coroner, Alexander S. KIRKPATRICK; Infirmary Directors, Abraham ALSPAUGH, Andrew J. STEWART, Andrew LYBOLD; Probate Judge, Barritt J. BROTHERTON; Prosecuting Attorney, Jacob Y. TODD; Recorder, Jesse W. BAIRD; Sheriff, Isaac
Page 722

Jas.
J. Ream, Photo, 1888.
CENTRAL
VIEW IN VAN WERT.
Page
723
R. TUDOR; Surveyor, Marion P. McCOY;
Treasurer, John F. SIDLE. City
officers, 1888: J. O. BROWDER, Mayor;
Henry ROBINSON, Clerk; Jacob FOX, Treasurer; Geo. W. CLIPPINGER,
Marshal; A. N.
GRANDSTAFF, Street Commissioner; Geo. E. WELLS, Solicitor. Newspapers: Bulletin,
Republican, SUMMERSETT & ARNOLD, editors and
publishers; Republican, Republican.
E. L. & T. C. WILKINSON, editors and publishers; Gazette,
Prohibition, C. E. DETTER, editor and publisher; Times,
Democratic, Geo. W. KOHN & W.
H. TROUP, editors. Churches:
1
Methodist, 1 Baptist, 1 Catholic, 1 Presbyterian, 2 Lutheran, 1
Evangelistic, 1
German Reformed, 1 Friends.
Manufactures and Employees.—Eagle
Stave
Co., staves and heading, 78; H. BUTLER & Co., staves and
heading, 28; Oil
Well Supply Co., sucker rods, etc., 20; J. A. GLEASON &
Brother, wagon
wood-work, etc., 8; A. & F. GLEASON, building material, 14;
People’s
Milling Association, flour, etc., 6; D. SPANGLER, building material, 5,
RUPRIGHT Brothers, drain tile, 6; Van Wert Foundry and Machine Works,
foundry
work, etc., 16; L. F. ROSS, drain tile, 5; Union Mills Flouring Co.,
flour,
etc., 5; W. A. CLARK, flour, etc., 4.—State
Report, 1888.
Population in 1850, 268;
in 1860, 1,015; in 1870, 2,625; in 1890,
5,548. School
census, 1888, 1,614; D. E. COWGILL, school superintendent. Capital invested in
industrial
establishments, $215,000. Value of annual product, $735,000.—Ohio Labor Statistics, 1887.
The town and
county at this time are highly prosperous.
The industries of the city are largely of wood.
HISTORICAL
MISCELLANY.
The
reminiscences of W. Willshire
RILEY (whose father
made the first settlement in Van Wert county)
are very
interesting and instructive in the graphic pictures they give of the
journey
into the Ohio wilderness, and the manners and customs of the first
settlers. They have
been published in the “County
History,” from which we make the following extracts:
OUTRAGES ON
TRAVELLERS.
My
father removed his family from Upper Middletown, Middlesex county,
Conn., in May, 1820, to the town of Chillicothe, O., in two-horse
covered
wagons via. New York city;
thence through New Jersey
and Pennsylvania to Cumberland, Md., and thence followed the line of
the
Cumberland or National Road (which was being built in different
sections, and
large gangs of Irish laborers with some negroes were at work). These men often committed
outrages on travellers
by felling trees across the road, and demanding
pay for their removal. They
tried the
game on father, but as he was a large and powerful man, well armed and
resolute, he soon taught them better manners, and we were suffered to
pass,
where others had been forced to pay these highwaymen.
There were very few houses (cabins) along the
road, and our journey was very slow.
We
usually encamped at night, sleeping in our wagons, building camp fires
and
setting a watch to guard against horse thieves, then numerous in the
mountains. Near the
top of Laurel Hill
we passed a new grave, surrounded with new pickets made out of oak,
said to be
the grave of a traveller
murdered for his horse and
money but a few days before. . . .
A FAMILY
DISGRACE.
We
crossed the Scioto river,
and went, via Springfield
and Troy, to Piqua, on the Great Miami river.
Here were a few log-cabins strung along the west bank. A hewed two-story
log-house was TOMPKIN’S
TAVERN, where we took lodging, one stone house, the old Council House,
occupied
by Dr. SHAPPIE as a residence, John JOHNSTON, Esq. (Indian agent),
Samuel
YOUNG, Stephen WIDNEY, an Irish gentlemen, and some few others. While we were at supper,
in rushed Mrs.
WIDNEY, wringing her hands, crying out: "Oh, gentlemen, my poor son
John
is lost in the woods; och
hone! och
hone! What
shall I do? The
opossums will kill him,
and the deer will eat him; och
hone! och
hone! It will be
such a disgrace to the family!”
All turned out, fired guns, made a bonfire,
and in about half an hour John WIDNEY made his appearance, a strapping
fellow
of sixteen years of age.
“DEVIL’S
RACE GROUND.”
Proceeding
on their journey, Capt. RILEY’s
party arrived, in
January, 1821, at the temporary cabin which had been prepared for them,
“about
one-fourth of a mile south of the present bridge in the town of Willshire.” . . . .
The wolves prowled around us all night,
keeping the children pretty well scared.
This was the first night of the first settlers in Van Wert
county at the
“Devil’s Race Ground.”
The winter proved
rather a mild
Page 724
one, and by
spring a large two-story
cabin had been built on the east bank of the river, at the foot of the
rapids,
near the site of the mill. This
cabin
was, I think, sixty feet in length, built in three sections of twenty
feet
each. The floors
were split and hewed
puncheons, with clapboard doors, with windows with sash and glass, the
first
glass windows seen north of Piqua.
A GUARDIAN
SPIRIT.
The
woods swarmed with Indians, who came to grind their knives and
tomahawks on the
grindstone, the only one north of Piqua.
They would camp around for weeks, but we never allowed
them to have any
whiskey, although it was always on hand by the barrel, and each hand
had to
have his rations. They
always treated us
with the utmost kindness. My
mother
often doctored their papooses, and they appreciated it.
My father’s portrait, a very fine likeness,
looking straight at the beholder, hung in our big room.
The Indians had all seen him while surveying,
and all crowded in to see him, or his spirit, as they believed was
there to
report to him in the woods that they were depredating upon his fields
or
insulting his family. Finding
that to be
the case, he did not deny it, and in the whole eight years that we were
surrounded by thousands of them, we were never injured to the value of
a
dollar, but treated politely and kindly by all tribes.
A GRAND RAISING.
During
the winter, men were engaged hewing and hauling timber for a large
frame grist
mill. Father and
his surveyors were in
the forests on the Auglaize until the time for raising the frame of the
mill
arrived, when all hands came in, and invitations were sent to Fort
Wayne, St.
Mary’s, and Fort Recovery, and great preparations were made
for their
entertainment by the hunters and Indians bringing in venison, wild
turkeys,
ducks, geese, and plenty of wild honey, maple-sugar and molasses, not
forgetting eggs and whiskey with which to make egg-nog,
without which no crowd could be gotten together; all used it, and
tobacco, when
they could get it, except my father, brother, and the Quakers in his
employ,
Messrs. LOUIS and POWELL, who used neither.
On the appointed day, people came from Fort Wayne, Fort
Recovery, St.
Mary’s and Piqua, to the number of about fifty, which, with
the surveyor,
settlers and millwright, swelled the number to over one hundred. But very few had assisted
in raising a frame
of such large timbers; they were very awkward.
The
frame of the mill had been partly raised when some of the timbers fell,
fortunately without injuring anyone, although Capt. RILEY narrowly
escaped
being crushed to death. All
agreed to
adjourn in gratitude for their narrow escape and complete the raising
the next
day. Accordingly
brush and bark camps
were made along the bank of the river to sleep in over night. Long tables were set out,
made by putting
legs or pins through slabs, and standing them in rows, with similar
ones not so
high for seats. With
abundance of provisions,
well cooked, and good coffee, all served in tin cups, and on tin
plates, all
partook of a hearty meal before dark.
A MOONLIGHT
DANCE.
Then
they determined to have a dance on the green by torch and moonlight;
bright
fires were burning, so that the smoke might drive away mosquitoes and
give
light, and many hickory bark torches, held by lookers-on, which they
would
swing furiously through the air to rekindle once in a while, afforded a
fine
light, and to all a novel, grand and beautiful sight.
A man named FRESHOUR, from towards Fort
Recovery, furnished music on a violin, and, as there were no women to
dance,
men personated them by wearing their chip hats or fur caps. The dances were Scotch
reels, Irish jigs, and
Old Virginia hoe-downs, and, as there was ample room, many were dancing
at one
time. Their joints
were limbered by
occasional tin cups of egg-nog. One man, Fielding CORBIN,
who had all day
been lying down groaning with rheumatism, became so much excited with
the
dance, or the stimulating effects of the nog, that he forgot his
lameness
when an Irish jig was played, and jumped up and danced it to
perfection,
touching every note, keeping perfect time, and excelling all, so that
ever
after the settlers called him LIMBER JIMMY.
Many of the company danced until daylight, and in the
morning, in a few
hours, the frame was raised in sections, a hearty dinner partaken, and
all
started for their homes, delighted with the idea that they would soon
have corn
meal without pounding, and that they had been to the raising of the
first frame
building ever erected north of Dayton, Ohio.
The irons and millstones were hauled from Dayton, taking
four yoke of
cattle to haul them through mud and swamps, which they had to bridge
with
corduroy (poles laid crossways).
MULTITUDES OF
FISH.
Finally
the mill was set running, and people came from all quarters with bags
of corn
and some buckwheat (no wheat had been raised as yet) from great
distances to
get their corn ground, camping out when more than a day’s
travel. The race
was one-quarter of a mile in length,
and no sooner was it closed at the mill than the fish began to
accumulate below
the dam, which was eight feet high, and they could not be sent over. That being the only
obstruction from Lake
Erie, the river seemed to be perfectly filled with pike, pickerel, lake
salmon,
white fish, large muskallonge,
black bass and
suckers. Father saw
that by opening his
waste gates at the mill and letting the water in at the dam, he could
soon have
the race full, when, by shutting the upper gate and opening the lower a
little,
they would be on dry land, and could be picked up with the
Page 725
hand.
He immediately set men to make barrels, and dispatched a
two-horse wagon
to Piqua for salt. Opening
his gates,
the fish fairly swarmed, until they became so thick that, with a
dip-net, they
could be thrown out as fast as a man could handle his net. Owing to the time taken by
the team, the fish
were so thick that they began to die in great quantities. Father caught and salted
all that he could
with the salt on hand, raised the gate into the pond, and let them go;
thus
losing an opportunity to have made a fine fortune for that time. The salt did not arrive
for several weeks, as
he had to go to Dayton, ninety miles and back.
The mill proved of inestimable value to the surrounding
country,
supplying the settlers with corn meal and sawing lumber, which was
rafted down
to Fort Wayne and Defiance. Capt.
RILEY,
however, did not reap much benefit from the enterprise.
A SECOND
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
Settlers
began to arrive, and about 1824 a Mr. HOOVER settled on the road to
Shane’s
Crossing, about a mile south of Willshire. He came from Pennsylvania,
and brought with
him a tin-plate stove, the first one ever seen in the
country—a great curiosity.
Next came Ansel BLOSSOM, from Maine.
He had a wife named Mercy, and a large family. He had taught school in
Maine, and imagined
himself a second Benjamin FRANKLIN, and imitated him even to the
sticking his
thumbs in his waistcoat armholes, and on no account would go faster
than a
walk, even to escape a thunder shower, as it was undignified to run. And to make sure that his
children would bear
great names—I will give such of them as I remember, in the
order of their ages,
I believe, viz.: Horatio Gates, Edward Preble, Ira Allen, Benjamin
Franklin,
Smith Mathias, James Monroe, and John Quincy Adams; Catharine Bethiah, and
Mary—don’t remember the other.
Benjamin worked for father, and the rest,
clearing their land and farming. The
first wedding was that of Philip TROUTNER and Miss BOLENBAUGH. About a week before, Mr.
BLOSSOM, by his own
vote, became justice of the peace, and was entitled to perform the
marriage
ceremony. Philip
had postponed his
nuptials rather than go to St. Mary’s or Fort Wayne, but one
morning the
squire, on going to his milk house, saw a “Weathersfield
kitten,” i.e., polecat,
quietly
drinking milk from a milk pan, when he very deliberately walked into
the house
and asked Mercy to hand him the fire shovel.
To her inquiry, “What do you want it
for?” he replied, “You’ll be
addressed presently.” He
found the
animal with his head over the pan, and brought the shovel down upon his
neck,
cramming his head into the milk, intending to drown him; but the animal
gave
him such a sprinkling as to render him blind for a time, and to perfume
his
clothes, including his only white cotton shirt, with a high collar,
which he
wore on great occasions starched, so as to give his bald head the
appearance of
being held up by the ears. He
instantly
called for Mercy to help him into the house, and changed his clothes as
soon as
possible, to deodorize them by burying.
This caused Poor Phil, as he was called, to put off his
wedding, the
whole settlement having heard of the squire’s battle with the
odoriferous
little animal.
“MOST
GREAT
MEN WERE BALD.”
Ansel BLOSSOM was peculiar even
in his having the ague,
chills or shakes all together, and instead of wrapping up in blankets
he would
take off his coat, and shake until the perspiration would stand in
beads upon
his bald head and smooth-shaven face, so that children often went to
enjoy the
sight when told the squire had pulled off his coat to shake. One night, just after
he had been elected justice, he spent the evening with my father. The subject of great men
was his theme. He
remarked, “Capt. RILEY, have you ever
noticed that most all great men were bald?
I remember many were.
Julius
CÆSAR of old, our John Quincy ADAMS, and also Benjamin
FRANKLIN, two of our
decidedly great men, are bald.”
Raising
his hat, which he always wore even in the house, “Did you
ever notice that I am
bald?” Father
humored his conceit, and
told him that in many respects he reminded him of FRANKLIN, etc. He left for home through
the woods. He heard
some one call to him “Who, who, who,
who, who are you, ah?” “I
am Esquire Ansel
BLOSSOM.”
“Who, who, who, ah,” was repeated from
a limb, and he heard the cracking
of the mandibles of a huge white owl, the emblem of wisdom.
HELL
LOCATED.
The first
religious services were
held at our house by missionaries, who visited Fort Wayne whenever the
Indians
were to receive their annuity, when there were a great many Indians and
traders
assembled from all parts of the country.
The missionaries were generally Methodists, but every
denomination was
invited by my mother to hold meetings (she being a Congregationalist);
one, Mr.
ANTREM, a Methodist preacher, most frequently.
He was a large, powerful man, and was considered a
revivalist. The
Holy Spirit, as he called it, manifested
its saving power by giving ladies what they called the jerks, which
would
commence with a loud groaning, and then the head would jerk back and
forth,
causing their long hair, which they braided, to crack like a whip-lash,
they
jumping up and down and shouting, while the preacher called on the
congregation
to alternately sing and pray. He
would
exhort them, telling that hell was raging just beneath them with fire
and
brimstone. “Yes,”
said FRESHOUR; “I know
it’s just under Shane’s prairie, ‘cause I
dug a well last week, and the water
was so full of brimstone and sulphur
that they could
not use it, and it turned every-
Page 726
thing black, and
caved in. I
don’t believe but hell’s right under
there.” To
this awful discovery ANTREM
quoted several passages from the Bible; read from DANTE, John BUNYAN
and
MILTON. Several
young women from the
prairie jerked until they fell
exhausted, frothering
at the mouth, with every nerve twitching.
They were pronounced by ANTREM to be most
powerfully converted; and that appeared to be the uniform working of
the Spirit
at all his meetings in Ohio, Indiana or Kentucky.
A QUEER COFFIN.
In
the winter of 1841 there died of pneumonia a poor fellow of the name of
Jacob
D--. His wife was
too poor to purchase a
shroud or coffin. Some
of the neighbors
were consulted as to what should be done; they advised that a clean
shirt and
white drawers be substituted for a shroud.
For a coffin, in absence of planks, it was recommended
that a white oak tree
be felled, six to seven feet cut off, split in the middle, each half
dug out
trough fashion, and the body placed within.
These recommendations were adopted, and the next day a
funeral
procession, consisting of four men, two women, a yoke of oxen and a
sled, upon
which was placed the strangely-coffined corpse, proceeded
to the grave at the headwaters of Blue creek.
Here poor Jake was reverently slid feet foremost into his
last
resting-place, and the grave duly filled.
In the
summer of 1854 that terrible scourge, the ASIATIC CHOLERA, became
epidemic
throughout the country; in some localities the mortality was very
great; in
Chicago over 900 died, in Brooklyn 650.
The epidemic spread throughout Ohio, with more or less
fatal results in
different parts of the State; the greatest fatalities were in the Black
Swamp
region, and an account of its ravages in one locality is typical of all
others. A
description of the conditions
preceding its advent, and its results in Willshire, is given by Dr. J. W. PEARCE,
in the “Van Wert County
History,” from which the following abridged account is taken:
WEATHER
EXTREMES.
The
winter preceding the epidemic had been unusually cold.
Rivers, creeks and fountains of water were
frozen, and when the spring freshets came
the St.
Mary’s river rose to overflowing, and being gorged with ice
and driftwood the
waters spread out and thousands of acres of land became inundated.
This
was followed by a season of drought.
From the latter part of May until July 28 no rain fell;
everything was
dried up by the scorching rays of the cloudless sun.
GLOOMY
APPREHENSIONS.
The
condition of our village, like all others unprovided
with town ordinances, was in a most unhealthy condition. Our streets, alleys and
byways were filled
with animal and vegetable remains, and the laws of hygiene were
entirely
overlooked. Thus it
was when hot weather
and drought set in. The
atmosphere in
time became surcharged with malaria, or the germ of disease, which
commenced
pouring out its unmeasured fury on the fatal 19th. At this date, Dame Nature,
with all her
surrounding concomitants, appeared unmistakably to shadow forth
something
unusual. Men’s
countenances were
overshadowed with fearful suspense, and there was a fearful looking for
something out of the common order of things.
The red glare and almost scathing heat of the
sun’s rays were poured
down, and reflected back, as if in mockery, from the already parched
earth. The cattle
went lowing to and
for, as if in search of food and water.
The birds flew screaming through the air, as though
pursued by some
demon of hunger. The
very dogs, as if in
mockery of the fearful doom that awaited us, sent up from their kennels
their
doleful howls. Willshire
up to this time had remained in stata
quo, whilst
her people retained their accustomed measure of the milk of human
kindness and
their liberal share of hospitality and generous feeling, for which she
had
always been proverbial; yet we must confess that, in point of morals
and
religion, Willshire had
never been so low.
UNACCOUNTABLE
PHENOMENON.
The
first case was that of a hard-working, also hard-drinking man, who was
attacked
on the evening of July 19, and expired within a few hours. Dr. PEARCE says:
“We will call attention to
one of the most remarkable, as also the most unaccountable phenomenon
connected
with the history of cholera, viz., the migration or disappearance of
the entire
feathered tribe, together with the house-flies.
By the 25th of the month not a bird
or house-fly could be
seen or heard anywhere, and they remained in blissful seclusion until
about
August 7, when our ears were again solaced by the merry song and
musical chirp
of the birds. But,
alas for Willshire, out
of a population of about seventy-five souls,
forty had migrated to that ‘bourne
from whence no traveller
returns.’” On
the 21st, at the suggestion of
L. D. PEARCE, a committee, consisting of Ira BLOSSOM, R. McMANNIS
and Willis MAJOR, was negotiated with to oversee the burying of the
dead, and
to assist those in distress, as occasion might require.
And never in the history of any age did three
great spirits merit a greater share of gratitude than did this brave
Page 727
trio, as they went
forth in the
discharge of their perilous undertaking.
No money consideration alone could have induced them to
enter the cabin
of STARKER, and remove therefrom five dead bodies, already in an
advanced stage
of decomposition, and that, too, after they had received orders to fire
the
building.
They
believed, however, that humanity and order demanded of them a different
course. Two of them
have long since gone
to their reward. All
lived, however, to
receive the plaudit and homage they so richly deserved from a generous
community. At this
time, Dr. MELCHEIMER
and myself were the only
practising
physicians in town, and, as might be expected, our sleep we got in the
saddle. Dr. PEARCE
thus relates the
sickness and death of his wife:
RAPID COURSE
OF THE DISEASE.
A
short time after we had left the house, a lady friend called for
medicine. Mrs.
PEARCE at this time was in apparent good
health, and left her parlor for the office, where she prepared the
lady’s
medicine. On
turning to hand her the
same, she was noticed to reel and stagger, when, on beholding her
countenance,
the lady was horrified to see the change from the florid red to a dark
leaden
hue. Mrs. P. was
now in the last stages
of cholera, and was led to her bed in a dying condition. Messengers were
immediately dispatched for
us, where we were found seven miles in the country.
By the fleetness of our horse, we were able
to be by her bedside in a few minutes, when and where she expired
within a
three hours’ illness.
A
strange coincidence connected with her death: one hour after Mrs.
PEARCE had
ceased to breathe, as she lay with her hands crossed upon her bosom, so
powerful had been the contraction of the muscular system during the
last throes
of the fell destroyer, that the innate action of the nervo-vital
fluid, brought to bear upon the extensor muscle of the arm, was
sufficient to
raise the right arm from her bosom, and lay it at the full length upon
my
breast as we sat by her bedside.
Nevertheless life had been extinct for one hour.
A DISAGREEABLE
SURPRISE.
We
had a poor drunken fellow in our town called “Bill.” To get drunk and whip his
wife was the order
of his time. He was
a terror to his
family, and a pest of the town. Bill
took the cholera, and we were called to see him.
This was the first time he had ever been
sick, and to him it was a disagreeable surprise.
This was our time, as we verily believed, to
assist him in passing in his checks; hence we rolled up eight or ten
pills of assafœtida
and red pepper, and ordered them to be given two
hours apart, and tried as best we could to prepare the mind of the
prospective
widow for the great change that awaited the little family circle, and
departed.
On
calling around in due time to see if Bill was still alive, to our great
surprise and no little chagrin we found him about well, and in due time
he was
restored to his whiskey and shillalah;
and it has
ever been a question with us whether Bill got well from pure
contrariness, or
whether assafœtida
and red pepper was the proper
treatment for cholera.
Mother
Ruby lay dead three days, one mile from town, before burial, wrapped in
a
sheet. She was
buried in her own garden.
PROFITABLE
PHILANTHROPY.
On
the 22d of the month, the old Widow DUTCHER, a stranger to fear, who
kept a
saloon, agreed to open her doors for the reception of all in distress,
upon
condition that she be allowed to go anywhere in town to take what she
needed
for their benefit. This
appeared
reasonable, and the arrangement was entered into.
The old lady’s house was soon filled with
cholera patients, six of whom died.
But
mark the sequel. When
the disease
subsided, and the people began to return with their families to their
deserted
homes, they had nothing to eat. The
old
woman had appropriated the entire stock of provisions to her own use,
and had
laid in a stock of groceries and provisions sufficient to stand a
five-year
siege. Nevertheless,
she received our
united thanks.
OUTRAGEOUS
INHUMANITY.
George
MILLER found he was taking the cholera, and left for his
sister’s in the
country, where he was refused admission.
He forced his way in, and threw himself on the trundle bed. The inmates left, and, on
their return next
morning, George was found dead on the floor beside his bed. He was buried in the
garden, without coffin
or box. Inhumanity
at that time could
not be overlooked. The
author of this
outrage was driven from the country, and not allowed to return.