Knox County, Ohio - Chapter 19: Indians, 1881

THE TRIBES OCCUPYING THIS COUNTY - TREATY OF FORT McINTOSH - HISTORY OF THE DELAWARE NATION - BOCKINGHELAS - KILLBUCK - CAPTAIN PIPE - SKIN CURRENCY - DELAWARE CAMPS IN KNOX COUNTY - CUSTALOOGA - THE MURDER OF THE SQUAW - BLOCK HousES - GREENTOWN INDIANS AND THEIR REMOVAL - J AMER Copus - HIs INFLUENCE OVER THE INDIANS - BURNING OF THE INDIAN VILLAGE - CAPTAIN ARMSTRONG - THE KILLING OF AN INDIAN BY MORRISON AND MCCULLOCH - THE JONES TRAGEDY - SEARCH FOR THE MURDERERS OF JONES - THE KILLING OF RUFFNER AND ZIMMER - SKETCH OF RUFFNER - BATTLE ON BLACK FORK AND THE MURDER OF JAMES Copus - REMOVAL OF THE Copus FAMILY - Mrs. SARAH VAIL - REMOVAL OF THE DELAWARES.

'Through the land where we for ages Laid our bravest, dearest dead, Grinds the savage white man's plowshare, Grinding sire's bones for bread."

HE next inhabitants in the form of a human being to occupy the territory now embraced in Knox county, after the Mound Builders, were the American Indians. At least, such is the generally received opinion; though whether the Indians and Mound Builders were not contemporaneous is, perhaps, an open question.

The Indian history, as well as that of the Mound Builders, is much involved in obscurity, and much of it largely dependent on tradition, though much of it is authentic and reliable. The Indians, however, can be allowed very little, if any, credit for this preservation of their history; it is almost or entirely owing to white occupation that they have any history at all. The day does not seem far distant when the Indian race, as a race, will become extinct. If, for any reason, this extinction had occurred before the occupation of this country by the whites, the world would know nothing of the existence of the American Indian. They have erected no monuments, they have neither written or wrought any enduring characters; they have not made an indelible footprint. How many such apparently worthless nations might have had an existence and passed away since the world began, no record will ever tell. Of all the nations that might have lived in America it remained for the Mound Builders alone to leave an enduring record; a history written on the hills and valleys in characters or figures that defies the ravages of time. Even the present intelligent race, were it swept away, would scarcely leave monuments so enduring.

The territory at present embraced in Knox county was in possession of a tribe of Indians known as Delawares upon the advent of the whites, though not exclusively used by that tribe. The several tribes of Ohio were generally on good terms, and though each tribe occupied territory which it considered its own for hunting purposes, yet the boundaries of these possessions were undefined and undefinable with exactness, and the hunters of the different tribes roamed freely over the possessions of all.

Each of the great tribes occupied lands adjacent to some important stream, and considcred all the land drained by that particular stream as its hunting grounds. Thus the Miamis occupied the country drained by the Miami river; the Wyandots the country drained by the Sandusky river, and also occupied the Sandusky plains; the Delawares occupied the valley of the Muskingum and its tributaries, one of which, Owl creek, passes through Knox county. All the territory drained by this great river was allotted by general consent to the Delaware nation. .

January 21, 1785, a treaty was concluded at Fort McIntosh with the Wyandot, Delaware, Chippewa, and Ottawa nations, by which the boundary line between the United States and the Wyandot and Delaware nations was declared to begin at the mouth of the Cuyahoga, and to extend up said river to the portage, between that and the Tuscarawas branch of the Muskingum, thence down that branch to the crossing place above Fort Laurens, thence westerly to the portage of the Big Miami, at the mouth of Loramie creek where stood Fort Loramie, taken by the French in 1752; thence along said portage to the Great Miami or Omee (Maumee) river, and down the south side of same to its mouth; thence along the south shore of Lake Erie to the mouth of the Cuyahoga river, to the place of beginning. The United States allotted all the lands contained within said lines to the Wyandot and Delaware nations, to live and hunt on, and to such of the Ottawa nation as lived thereon; saving and reserving for the establishment of trading posts, six miles square at the mouth of the Miami, or Omee river, and the same at the Portage, on that branch of the Big Miami which runs into the Ohio, and the same on the Sandusky lake, where the fort formerly stood ; also two miles square on either side of the lower rapids of the Sandusky.

The southern boundary line, established by the terms of the above-mentioned treaty, passed across the northern part of the present limits of Knox county. The line forins the northern boundary of Knox from the northeast corner to about the centre of Pike township, where it enters the county, passing across the northern part of Pike township near the village of North Liberty, thence across Berlin township near the village of Ankenytown, a little north of it; thence across Middlebury township near the village of Haneytown. This line was subsequently (in 1795) re-established and extended into Indiana, by the Greenville treaty, made by General Wayne.

By this treaty a large territory was ceded to the United States, including nearly all of Knox county. The Indians were not, however, removed, but continued to live and hunt on their old grounds until later in the century; and even up to the War of 1812 many of them were here.

The true name of this once powerful tribe is Wa-be-nugh-ka, that is, ''the people from the east," or ''the sun rising." The tradition among themselves is, that they originally, at some very remote period, emigrated from the west, crossed the Mississippi, ascending the Ohio, fighting their way, until they reached the Delaware river (so named from Lord Delaware),. near where Philadelphia now stands, in which region' of country they became fixed.

About this time they were so numerous that no enumeration could be made of the nation. They welcomed to the shores of the new world that great law-giver, William Penn, and his peaceful followers, and ever since this people have entertained a kind and grateful recollection of them; and to this day, speaking of good men, they would say, ''Wa-she-a E-le'ne'' - such a man is a Quaker, 7. ¢., all good men are Quakers. In 1823 I was Indian agent at Piqua, Ohio, and removed to the west of the Mississippi persons of this tribe who were born and raised within thirty miles of Philadelphia. These were the most squalid, wretched and degraded of their race, and often furnished their chiefs with a subject of reproach against the whites ; pointing to these of their people and saying to us - ''see how you have spoiled them' - meaning, they had acquired all the bad habits of the white people, and were ignorant of hunting and incapable of making a livelihood as other Indians.

In 1819, there were belonging to Johnston's agency in Ohio, eighty Delawares, who were stationed near Upper Sandusky, and in Indiana two thousand three hundred of the same tribe.

Bockinghelas was the principal chief of the Delawares after Johnston went into the Indian country; he was a distinguished warrior in his day, and an old man when the agent knew him. Killbuck, another Delaware chief, had received a liberal education at Princeton college, and retained until his death the outlines of the morality of the gospel.

Killbuek's creek, in Wayne county, was named from Killbuck. His village, called Killbuck's town, 'was on the road from Wooster to Millersburgh, on the east of the creek, about ten miles south of Wooster. It is laid down on maps published as early as 1754. When the country was first settled Killbuck was a very old man. There were at least two chiefs of this name.

The Delaware Indians had a settlement at or near Jeromeville (Ashland county), which they left at the beginning of the war (1812). Their chief was Captain Pipe, who resided near the road to Mansfield, one mile south of Jeromeville. When young he was a great warrior, and the implacable foe of the whites. When asked "why his tribe fought so desperately?" he replied, 'He who will not defend the graves of his dead is not worthy the name of man." He was in St. Clair's defeat, where, according to his own account, he distinguished himself and slaughtered whité men until his arm was weary with the work. He had a daughter of great beauty. A young chief of noble mein fell in love with her, and, on his suit being rejected, mortally poisoned himself with the May apple. A Captain Pipe (son of old Captain Pipe) whose Indian name was Pauhangecanpouye, removed to the small Delaware Reserve, in the upper part of Marion county, and when his tribe sold out, about forty years since, accompanied them to the far west, where he died.

At an early day the Indians, in great number, came to Mount Vernon totrade. They encamped on the river bank, and brought large quantities of furs and cranberries to dispose of for goods. Their method of trading is worthy of notice. They walked in deliberately and seated themselves, upon which the merchant presented each with a small piece of tobacco. Having lighted their pipes, they returned the residue to their pouches. These pouches were made of a whole mink skin, dressed with the hair on, and with a slit cut in the throat, for an opening. In it they kept, also, some kinnickinnick bark, or sumach, which they always smoked with their tobacco, in the proportion of about three of the former to one of the latter. After smoking and talking awhile together, one only at a time arose, went to the counter, and, taking up a yard-stick, pointed to the first article he desired, and inquired the price. The questions were, 'how many buckskins for a shirt pattern?" "or "how many for cloth for leggings?" etc. Their skin currency had an established value. A muskrat skin was equal to a quarter of a dollar; a raccoon skin, a third of a.dollar; a doeskin, half a dollar; and a buckskin, one dollar. The Indian, learning the price of an article, paid for it 'by picking out and handing over the skins, before proceeding to purchase the second, when he repeated the process, and so on through the whole, paying for everything as he went on, and never waiting, for that purpose, until he had finished. While the first Indian was trading, the others looked uninterruptedly on, and when he was through another took his place, and so on, in rotation, until all had traded. No one desired to trade before his turn, and all observed a proper decorum, and never attempted to get the price down, but, if dissatisfied with the price, passed on to the next article. They were Cautious not to trade while intoxicated ; but usually preserved some of their skins to buy liquor, and end their wisit with a frolic.

Several camps of Delawares were located within the limits of this county prior to the War of 1812. One, located on the bottom land of Owl creek, just opposite the mouth of Centre run, is remembered by the older citizens, who often speak of "the Indian field."

Another camp was situated in the neighborhood of what is now Fredericktown; another at Greentown, now in Ashland county, then under the jurisdiction of Knox county. Some of the old pioneers have seen several times old Crane, the Wyandot chief; Armstrong, and Captain Pipe, the Delaware chiefs.

Custaloga was a chief of the Delawares, of the Wolf tribe, and represented the Delawares at the council that met Colonel Boquet at the forks of the Muskingum (Coshocton) October 17, 1764. The expedition under Colonel Boquet came from Fort Pitt (now Pittsburgh), and numbered fifteen hundred men. One of the results of the council was the recovery of over two hundred white captives, which had been stolen from the early settlements of the whites near the Ohio river, and western part of Pennsylvania. Many of these captives had grown up from childhood with the Indians, and some had intermarried with them. When they were thus reclaimed by fathers and brothers who had long mourned their loss, and who had accompanied the expedition, many of the captives, instead of rejoicing were thrown into great unhappiness. They clung to their Indian friends and relations, crying with loud lamentations at the separation, and, in some cases, were with great difficulty torn away.

Custaloga was one of the principal speaking chiefs at the council. It is supposed his home was at one of the Indian fields so numerously found by the early white settlers along the Owl Creek valley ; a principal and very large one of which was at Elmwood, a little below or opposite to the present city of Mount Vernon, and on the right bank of the river.

In 1820 an Indian squaw of the Stockbridge tribe was shot near the county line, between Utica and Martinsburgh, in Licking county. She was taken to Mount Vernon, where she died. One McLane shot her, and was sent to the penitentiary for it. He and four others, named McDaniel, Evans, Chadwick, and Hughes, were engaged in chopping, when this squaw, and others of the tribe, came along and camped near them. The diabolical proposition was made and accepted, that they should play cards, and that the loser should shoot her. McLane was the loser and did the shooting; his confederates were tried with him and acquitted. McLane died before his term in the penitentiary had expired, according to some authorities, and according to others served his time out.

The squaw was shot through the thigh, and was carried to Mount Vernon by her companions and placed in the old log gunsmith shop of John Earnhart on High street; but the quarters becoming uncomfortable on account of the. cold November weather, she was removed to a log house on the northwest corner of Mulberry and Vine streets, where she died. 'True to the stoicism of her race, she never groaned or complained, though her sufferings were intense. Her five or six Indian companions remained with her until her death, when they buried her in the northeast corner of the old graveyard. For several years her husband would return in November, to see that her grave remained undisturbed. Her name was Rachel Konkupote. She gave birth to a female child while lying confined by her wound, and on her death the child was given to John and Judah Bird, colored persons of Morgan or Clay township. The child was named Mary, and the legislature subsequently undertook to dispose of it. Hence the habeas corpus case, tried before Judge Brown, on the twentieth of November, 1820, noted by Norton, As follows:

In this year (1820) an interesting case was presented in an allowance of a writ, on the twentieth of November, by Judge Brown, requiring John Bird and Judah Bird to bring into court the body of an Indian chiid, daughter of Rachel Conkapote {Konkupote!, deceased, by her husband, Elisha Conkapote [Konkupote!, both Indians of the Stockbridge tribe. Judges Young and Chapman also appeared, and the whole court lent itself to an impartial examination of the case, which resulted in

The legislature subsequently allowed the Birds fifty dollars per annum for the support of the child. This legislation was procured by Hosmer Curtis, esq., in 1822, then a member of the lower house of the legislature.

When war was declared with Great Britain, in the spring of 1812, a feeling of uneasiness ran through the border settlements. The Indians had always been allies of the English as against Americans; and they would have been equally allies of any other power that would have assisted them in regaining the territory that was being wrested from them by the advancing pioneers.

Tecumseh, the brave and eloquent chief, was earnestly engaged in uniting the Indian tribes, inducing them to take up the hatchet, and, with the help of the British, drive the Americans from their country. Very few soldiers were then upon the border for the protection of the settlers; block-houses and means of defence were scarce. When the American commander, General Hull, surrendered, this feeling of insecurity was increased to one of alarm. It was supposed that a British invading army would immediately cross the State of Ohio, and that the Indians would be let loose upon the defenceless settlers. Block-houses were immediately erected for protection - they sprang up, like mushrooms, almost in a single night. Two were erected on the site of Mansfield; one on Rocky fork, at Beam's mill (now Goudy's mill); one on the Clear fork of the Mohican, and one where Ganges now stands. The block-houses at Mount Vernon and Fredericktown were also erected about this time. Within reach of these rude works the pioneers felt comparatively safe. A few of them could defend themselves against quite. a force of savages; and, as rapidly as possible, these works were occupied by soldiers.

There had been, for some years, a camp of Indians at Greentown on Black fork - about one hundred of them. A few were Mohawks, but most of them were Delawares, under an old chief named Armstrong. They had always been friendly and neighborly with the whites, and quite a settlement of white people had gathered around them. Fearing that Tecumseh would influence these Indians to engage in the war, and that they would suddenly fall upon the settlers and murder them, the military authorities determined to remove them. It was the policy of the government to gather all the friendly Indians together as much as possible - to separate the sheep from the goats, as it were - that it might know who were its friends and who its enemies. This was the motive for the order removing the Greentown Indians. However unjust it might seem to drive them from their homes and hunting-grounds, it was in accordance with a general policy that seemed to be for the best. A of Piqua, Ohio, where they were under the protection and supervision of the military. To this place it was decided to remove these Indians, and the task was intrusted to Colonel Samuel Kratzer, who had arrived at Mansfield with his command from Knox county. His soldiers were scattered about the vicinity, building block-houses and doing garrison duty. One company, under command of Captain Martin, was stationed at the block-house at Beam's Mill. In September, Colonel Kratzer sent a company of soldiers, under Captain louglas, to bring the Greentown Indians to Mansfield. It was a delicate and disagreeable duty. When Douglas arrived at the village and reported his mission to the chief, Captain Armstrong hesitated about obeying the order. He had eighty fighting men under his command, and could have made a vigorous resistance. It seemed cruel to remove these people from their homes, where they were living quietly, attending to their own business, molesting no one, and surrounded by their families.and the comforts of life; in a country wonderfully beautiful, which they had always called their own. What wonder is it that they hesitated to obey this peremptory order? These Indians were in a great degree under -the influence of Christianity. Missionaries had visited them regularly for years, and preached in their councilhouse. They traded freely with the whites, and were more intelligent and further on the road to civilization than most other tribes. The village site had been selected for the romantic beauty of its scenery; it is said by those who visited it at that period that no more lovely spot could be found; yet they must leave this at the bidding of destiny. It seems as if it was ordained that this race should be ground to powder under the heel of civilization.

The Indians were thrown into a violent state of excitement upon the appearance of the soldiers for their removal. Captain Armstrong trembled with-suppressed emotion; so much so that he could hardly reply to Captain Douglas. The camp was like a powder magazine - a spark would have caused an explosion - a word would have brought on a desperate struggle. Douglas, finding he would have some difficulty, concluded to go to Mr. James Copus, for his advice and assistance, desiring, if possible, to avoid bloodshed.

James Copus was the first settler in Mifflin township. He was born in Greene county, Pennsylvania, about the year 1775; married in his native county in 1796; emigrated to Richland county in March, 1809, and settled on the Black fork of the Mohican. He first located about three miles east of the present site of Charles' mill, on what has since been called Zimmer's run, where he erected a camp cabin of poles. In this cabin he lived eighteen months, when he moved down nearer to Black fork, about three-fourths of a mile from that stream, where a beautiful spring gushes from the foot of a high rocky ridge or bluff. Here he built a permanent cabin on land he had selected, and began clearing off a farm. Meanwhile, he had become well known to the Greentown Indians; was on the most friendly terms with them, and was much respected by them. He was a man of strong religious convictions - a Methodist, and frequently preached for them in their council-house. He wasa stout, fearless, industrious German, and soon had a small patch cleared about his cabin, fenced with brush and logs, and planted in corn He possessed a yoke of oxen and a cow or two. A few white neighbors soon gathered around him, among whom were James Cunningham, Andrew Craig, David and Samuel Hill and Mr. Lambright. The settlement came to be known as the Black fork or Copus settlement. The Indians soon learned to trust Mr. Copus, to believe in his honesty and fidelity, and in consequence, he soon acquired great influence over them. It was to this man that Captain Douglas went, to secure, if possible, his influence in getting the Indians removed without aconflict. Mr. Copus entertained some peculiar views respecting human rights; his sympathies were with the Indians, and he was strongly opposed to their removal. He liked them as neighbors, believed they were inclihed to peace, and could not see the necessity of driving them from their homes. He entered into a long conversation with the officer, respecting the justness of his mission. He maintained that they had suffered the most shameful wrongs, and that a God of mercy would demand restitution from the hands of the whites. He at first refused to assist the officer, declaring to him, that, if he would not disturb them, he would himself stand accountable for their conduct. All Mr. Copus' arguments were to no purpose. The officer stated simply that his orders wete peremptory to remove them, and, however unjust it might be, he could not do less than obey orders. Mr. Copus saw that if he did not use his influence and persuade the Indians to go peaceably, there would he bloodshed, and, with this view, he at last agreed to accompany the officer to the Indian villlage; first stipulating, however, that, should the Indians quietly surrender, their lives and property should be protected. This Captain Douglas promised, and taking with him his three sons, Henry, James and Wesley, they proceeded to the village. Through Mr. Copus' influence, the Indians were persuaded to go quietly away with the soldiers, after being assured that their property should be protected and restored to them, and that they should be protected on the march. Prior to this they had assured Peter Kinney, a neighbor, that, if permitted to remain, they would surrender their guns and war-like weapons, and answer to roll-call every day, but as Captain Douglas had no dis_ cretionary power, this could not be done.

A schedule of their property was taken by James .Cunningham and Peter Kinney, and they took up their line of march across the Black fork, turning their faces from a home they, as a tribe, were never to see again. They were taken across to the new State road, thence to Lucas, and from there to Mansfield, camping in the deep ravine, which now crosses the First ward, above the bridge on South Main street. It is now called Ritter's run. Some eight or ten soldiers straggled from Douglas' command, and remained behind at the Indian village. No sooner had Armstrong and his people disappeared in the forest, than these soldiers deliberately, to the surprise and distress of Mr. Copus, set fire to the village and burned it to the ground. Nearly everything the Indians left behind was consumed. The village contained some sixty comfortable log houses, a large council house, and much personal property, which the Indians were unable to carry with them.

This is the statement of Mr. Wesley Copus, who was present. He is now dead, but the statement was wrtitten down in his presence, and by his dictation, some years before he died. He attributed the untimely death of his father to this act of perfidy on the part.of Douglas' command.

After being joined by a few Indians from Jeromeville, Colonel Kratzer and his command conducted the Indians through Berkshire and across Elm creek, in Delaware county, to Piqua.

It is said the Indians discovered volumes of smoke rising over the tree tops, surmised that their property was being burnt, and some of them vowed a terrible vengeance.

Captain Thomas Steene Armstrong, chief of the Greentown Indians, whose Indian name was Pamoxet, was born in Pennsylvania, somewhere on the Susquehanna river. He was not a full blooded Indian, but very dark-skinned; the name Steene probably alluded to some white relative, in this country. He first came into notice at the treaty of Fort Industry, July 4, 1805. He was probably chief of the Turtle branch of the Lenni Lenape, or Delaware tribe, and located at Greentown, about the time Captain Pipe made his residence near Mohican Johns-

At the time these white settlers came, Captain Armstrong appeared to be about sixty-five years of age; was a small man, slightly stooping, rather dignified and reticent, dressed in ful) Indian costume, and appeared to advantage. He had two wives - one an old squaw, by whom he had James and Silas, and, probably, other children. He married a young squaw in 1808, by whom he had children. He frequently visited the cabin of James Copus, and made sugar there the first spring after his arrival. James and Silas often shot at a mark, with bows and arrows, with James and Wesley Copus, in the sugar camp. They also amused themselves by hopping, wrestling, and other boyish sports. Armstrong had two Indian slaves, or servants, both deaf. They were of some other tribe. He was a harmless old chief, and treated every one very kindly. The favorite hunting-ground of his tribe was in Knox county, along Owl creek and its tributaries, and frequently they had difficulty with the early settlers of that region. After their removal to Piqua, Armstrong settled in the Upper Sandusky region, among the Delawares and Wyandots, and never returned to Greentown; but his boys, however, James and Silas, frequently came back. The chief was a good Indian doctor, and could talk very good English. His descendants married among the Wyandots and Delawares, and, when these tribes were removed, went with them beyond the Mississippi, settling near Wyandot, Kansas.

During the short time the Greentown Indians were encamped in Mansfield, two of them, a warrior and his daughter, a little girl, escaped from the guards and made their way toward Upper Sandusky. This Indian's name was Toby; he did not belong to the Greentown Indians, but to another tribe located at Upper Sandusky. For some reason, his little daughter had been living with the Greentown Indians, and, when he found they were being removed by the Government, he came to take her home, and met her at Mansfield. Here he found her under guard, and not being able to get her away openly, he succeeded in getting her through the guards, and they started for Upper Sandusky. At that time there was, in Colonel Kratzer's command, a company of soldiers from Coshocton, and, among them, two men by the name of Morrison and McCulloch; the latter had had a brother killed by the Indians at Brownstown. These two men took their rifles and started in pursuit of the fugitives' on the Sandusky trail. Two miles out, they overtook and immediately fired upon them, wounding the father. They then returned to town. The Indian ran about forty rods to a stream, and laid down init. Morrison and McCulloch told what they had done and a company of soldiers, under Sergeant J. C. Gilkinson, and accompanied by the two scouts, Morrison and McCulloch, went out to look for the wounded Indian, and found him still alive, lying in the stream. As they approached, he lifted his hands, imploring mercy, but there was no mercy for him. Morrison drew his tomahawk from his belt and handed it to McCulloch, saying, ''Take revenge for your brother's blood." McCulloct walked deliberately up, and, in spite of the entreaties of Mr. Gilkinson, sank the tomahawk into the Indian's skull, up to the hardle. :

They then took the body out of the water, and, having piled some logs on it, left it for the present and went home, taking along the gun, tomahawk, and other articles belonging to the Indian. Some days after, they returned, cut off the head of the Indian, scalped it, brought it to town and stuck it on a pole in the street, where it temained several days, when some one, becoming disgusted with the sight, took it down and buried it. Dr. J. P. Henderson, still living, adds to the above the following: ''The scalp they filled with whisky, handed it around and drank from it, though mixed with blood."

The daughter escaped, and, after living nine days on berries, arrived safely at Sandusky. Nothing could be done to punish Morrison and McCulloch for this crime, as there was a standing order that all Indians found in the woods, outside the guards, should be shot.

About the same time the Indians were removed from Greentown, Levi Jones was killed, near Mansfield. On the thirteenth of August, 1812, John Wallace and a man by the name of Reed went out a half-mile east of town to clear off a place fora brickyard. In the afternoon, Levi Jones, who kept a grocery in the cabin on the Sturgis corner, went out where they were at work and remained with them some time. In returning, he took a different route from the one by which he went out, it being a trail through the woods.. When he reached the vicinity of the brick block lately known as the Friendly Inn, and near the foot of the hill on the east side of North Main street, he was fired upon by a party of Indians in ambush. It is supposed this was a party of the Greentown Indians. They probably had some grudge against Jones, who sold whisky, and had trouble with them at different times on this account. One shot took effect, the ball entering the back of the left hand, passing through the hand and entering the right breast.. The hand through which the ball passed was confined at his breast by a sling, in consequence of a felon on his thumb. Jones did not fall immediately, but, giving a yell of pain andalarm, started on a run for the block-house. He might have reached it, but unfortunately came in contact with a brush across the path, which threw him backward upon the ground. Before he could regain

,his feet, the Indians were upon him, and finished their work by stabbing him several times in the back. They then scalped him, and, having secured his hat and handkerchief, gave the scalp yell and left.

John Pugh and Mr. Westfall were working a few rods from the place, and hearing the yell, ran into town and gave the alarm. They returned, and found Jones lying dead in the trail, but, fearing an ambush, left him there and returned to the block-house. Ina very few minutes everybody in the vicinity heard the news, and all immediately took shelter in the block-house. The excitement was very great; they momentarily expected an attack. During all this time, the supposition was that Reed and Wallace, who were clearing the brickyard in that direction, had also been killed by the Indians, and that the latter were still lurking in the neighborhood. The wives of Reed and Wallace were almost frantic, thinking their husbands had been murdered. - It- was now about sundown, and, as it seems there were no soldiers in the block-house at that time, it was determined to send immediately to Mount Vernon for help. Who would volunteer to go, was the question. It was a hazardous journey; whoever volunteered would stand a fair chance of losing his scalp. It happened that, just at that time, the eccentric but brave Johnny Appleseed was present. He immediately volunteered to undertake the hazardous journey, and started about dark, bareheaded and barefooted, through the wilderness. He reached Mount Vernon in safety, and with such expedition that Captain Garey, with a party of soldiers, was at the block-house by sunrise the next morning. ;

On this journey Johnny Appleseed gave a warning cry at every cabin he passed, informing the inmates that Reed, Wallace, and Jones were killed, and that the Indians were passing south. There was something awful, it is said, in Johnny's warning cry, as he pounded at the door of each cabin he passed, and shouted to the inmates: 'Flee! flee! for your lives! The Indians are upon you," and, before they could open the door, or fairly comprehend his meaning, this angel of mercy had disappeared in the darkness and night, on his way with the fleetness of a deer to the next cabin -

When the soldiers arrived in the morning, the body of Jones was brought in on a sled and buried, and a search made for any savages that might be lurking about. The place where the Indians had tied their horses was found near the foot of the hill upon which Judge Geddes now resides. The next day Captain Douglas raised a company of fifteen volunteers, and started on the trail of the Indians, following it to Upper Sandusky. They came so near the fugitives the second day, that they found their camp-fires still burning. At Upper Sandusky they found Governor McArthur with a company from Chillicothe, and remained there several days, searching the Indian camp for the murderers of Jones, but did not find them. Some three hundred friendly Indians were encamped there. Douglas did not-think it safe to return by the way he went, and came back by way of Fredericktown. The men were roughly dressed, and had handkerchiefs tied about their heads instead of hats. T hey looked more like Indians than white men; and, as they were going into Fredericktown, they fired off their guns by way of salute, and greatly frightened the inhabitants. Two women fainted in the street, and a general stampede for the block-house took place.

The murder of Jones must have happened a few days before the removal of the Greentown Indians, as at that time soldiers were already occupying the block-houses on the square,

Two weeks after the removal of the Greentown Indians, Martin Ruffner, and the Zimmer* family, living on the Black fork, about five miles north of the site of the burned village, were murdered. 'The deed was supposed to have been comunitted by a portion of Armstrong's band, in retaliation for the injuries they had suffered, and it was also supposed they had a grudge against the Zimmer family, as members of that family haa, on different occasions, tied clapboards to the tails of their ponies. Their ponies were allowed to run loose in the woods, and an-- noyed Mr. Zimmer by getting into his corn-field. Any insult to their ponies was made a personal matter, and resented accordingly.

Martin Ruffner came from Shenandoah county, Virginia, and settled in Pleasant township, Fairfield county, Ohio, in 1807. He was accompanied by his mother, brother Michael, and a sister, who married one Richard Hughes. Martin Ruffner returned to Virginia a year or two before he settled in Richland county, and married. In the spring of 1812, he and his relatives located on what is now Staman's run, in Mifflin township, half a mile a little north of west of the present village of Mifflin. He was of German origin, a bold, fearless backwoodsman, and sr

* This has generally been written ''Seymour," but the correct name has been ascertained to be Zimmer. The settlers in that direction (in. cluding this family) Were Germans, and their pronunciation of the name Zimmer sounds very much like '' Seymour," hence the mistake, an uncompromising enemy of the Indians, several of his friends and relatives having been murdered by them. On his arrival in Mifflin, he built a cabin on the brow of the hill, not far from the Black fork, about five minutes' walk from the present residence of Mr. Jacob Staman, and on the latter's farm. While building this cabin and clearing around it, with the help of a bound boy named Levi Bargahiser, his mother and brother boarded with his hrother-in-law, Richard Hughes, while he and Bargahiser kept ''bachelor's hall'' at the cabin. They had just entered their lands at Canton, and were preparing for a permanent residence. Mr. Zimmer, with his family, came about the same time, located his land and built his cabin about two and a half miles southeast of Mr. Ruffner. His family consisted of his wife, a beautiful girl named Kate, and his son Philip, aged nineteen. He was an old man, not able to do much work, and, desiring to prepare some fifteen or twenty acres for corn, he employed Michael Ruffner to assist his son Philip. Early in September, one afternoon, while Michael Ruffner was walking along the trail leading from the cabin of Frederick Zimmer to that of his brother, he met a party of Indians* who were well armed with guns, knives, and tomahawks, and appeared very friendly. They asked him if the Zimmers were at home, and upon receiving an affirmative reply, passed on. Havying his suspicions aroused, he hastened, to the cabin of his brother Martin, and informed him of his meeting with the Indians. Martin's suspicions were aroused, and taking down his rifle, he mounted a fleet mare, and rode rapidly down the trail to the Zimmer cabin. He arrived before the Indians; and after a short consultation it was decided that Philip Zimmer should hasten tothe cabin of James Copus, who lived about two miles further south, on the trail, give the alarm in that neighborhood, and return with assistance. Meanwhile the brave Ruffner was to remain and defend the family. Philip Zimmer hastened to further south, on the Black fork. Lambright returned with him, and, joined by Mr. Copus, they all proceeded together to the Zimmer cabin, where they arrived in the early part of the evening. Finding no light in the cabin, and all being silent, fears were entertained that the inmates had been murdered. Mr. Copus moved cautiously around to the back window, and listened a moment; but hearing no movement, he crept quietly around to the door, which he found slightly ajar; and pressing upon it, found some obstruction behind it. He at once suspected the family had been murdered; and on placing his hand upon the floor, found it wet with blood. There was no longer any doubt, Hastening back to Philip and Lambright, who were concealed a short distance from the cabin, he stated his discoveries and convictions.

Philip became frantic with grief and excitement, and desired to rush into the cabin to learn the whole truth. In this he was prevented by the others, who feared that the Indians were yet concealed in the cabin, awaiting his return. Persuading Philip to accompany them, they hastened back to the cabin of Mr. Copus, and, taking the latter's family, they all proceeded as rapidly as possible to Mr. Lambright's. This family was added to their numbers, and they pushed on to the cabin of Frederick Zimmer, jr., Philip's brother, and he and his family joined the fugitives. They hastened along an Indian trail, near where the ee ee village of Lucas now stands, and stopped at the cabin of David Hill, where they remained until the next morning, when, accompanied by the family of Hill, all proceeded to the block-house at Beam's mill. This fort was then occupied by a company of soldiers under Captain Martin. <A party of these soldiers, accompanied by Mr. Copus, Philip and Frederick Zimmer, Hill and Lambright, all well armed, proceeded by the most direct route through the forest, to the catins of Martin Ruffner and Richard Hughes. They found the cabin of Ruffner had not been disturbed, the boy Bargahiser having slept there alone the night before; and the cabin of Hughes was also undisturbed. Ruffner had, a short time prior to this, upon the surrender of Hull, sent his wife and child to Licking county, to a Mr. Lair, or Laird, an uncle, who lived about one and a half miles from Utica. At Ruffner's cabin they were joined by Bargahiser, Michael Ruffner and Mr. Hughes, and all hastened down the trail to the Zimmer cabin. Entering it, they found the old gentleman, the old lady and Catharine, all dead upon the floor and dreadfully mangled. The gallant Ruffner was lying dead in the yard. There was every evidence that he had made a desperate struggle for his life and that of the Zimmers. His gun was bent nearly double, and several of his fingers had been cut off by blows from atomahawk. The struggle had finally ended by his being shot twice through the body. The details of this butchery could never be certainly known, as the prominent actors were all killed; all had also been scalped. It appeared that the table had been set with refreshments for the savages, and most of the food remained. Whether any of the Indians were killed is not known; they would have taken their dead away with them, and destroyed all evidences, if such a catastrophe had happened to them. It is supposed that eight or ten Indians were engaged in this tragedy.

There is a tradition among the early settlers, that an Indian by the name of Kanotchy was taken prisoner some years afterwards, and related the story of this massacre. It appears from this statement that the Indians entered the cabin and seated themselves very sullenly, while the terrified Kate was setting refreshments for them, as was usual. The heroic Dutchman was the only guard of consequence, as Mr. Zimmer was too old to make much resistance. 'The Indians made the attack very shddenly. Ruffner, not having time to fire, brok2 the stock in pieces and bent the barrel double in the terrible fight. The odds were too much for him, and he soon went down before superior numbers. As soon as he was out of the way they killed and scalped the old people. At the commencement of the affray Kate fainted and fell to the floor, and until aroused from this state of syncope, was unaware of the murder of her parents. When she came to her senses, she looked about upon a scene of blood and horror, and burst into a paroxysm of weeping. She begged the savages to spare her life, but all to no purpose. 'Fhey first ascertained from he1 where her father's money was concealed, and then buried the tomahawk in her brain. While she was in a senseless condition, a consultation had been held over her, to decide whether they should kill her or take her prisoner. It was decided that her life should be taken, but still they hesitated, as no one wished to do the deed. At length it was decided that the one who should perform the deed, should be considered as possessing the greatest heart, whereupon this same Phillip Kanotchy stepped forward, exclaiming, ''Me kill white squaw, me got big heart." When Kate saw the tomahawk descending, she raised a beautiful white arm to ward off the blow, which, falling upon the arm, nearly severed it in

She was engaged to be married to Mr. Henry Smith, who was at that time in the east, attending to some business; they were to be married upon his return.

Martin Ruffner and the Zimmers were buried on a little knoll near the cabin, in one grave, where the remains still lie. The farm is now owned by a Mr. Culler. After performing the last sad ceremonies over the remains of the murdered pioneers, they returned to the block-house at Beam's, and Michael Ruffner, his mother, and Hughes and family returned to Fairfield county, where they remained.

When Mr. James Copus and family had remained about five days-at the block-house, 'they became tired of staying, and, hearing nothing of the Indians, determined to return. Having always enjoyed their respect and confidence, and having always been their firmest friend, he felt that they could harbor no ill will toward him or his family. Captain Martin protested against his return, saying that in the present excited state of affairs he would be running great risk. As Mr. Copus insisted on going, nine soldiers were detailed to accompany him. Mr. Copus had seven children, mostly small. They all arrived safely at the cabin, and found everything as they had left it. In the evening, Mr. Copus invited the soldiers to sleep in the cabin, but, the weather being yet warm, they preferred to take quarters in the barn, which stood four or five rods north of the cabin, on the trail,* that they might have a better opportunity to indulge in frolic and fun, and be less crowded and under less restraint. Before retiring Mr. Copus cautioned them against surprise by any Indians that might be lurking about. _ During the afternoon, Sarah; a little daughter of Mr. Copus, aged twelve, still living (November, 1880) went into the cornfield a few rods south of the cabin, and, while there, saw an Indian in the edge of the woods skulk behind a brush heap, but, unfortunately, did not relate the circumstance to herfather. This child, now'.Mrs. Sarah Vail, aged eighty-one, says the reason why she did not tell her father of her discovery is that he was a very strict man in regard to truth, and, fearing she might have been deceived, did not wish to incur his displeasure by creating a false alarm.

Copus had many unpleasant dreams - sleeping but little. He was'evidently impressed that danger was lurking near. Before daylight, he invited the soldiers into the cabin, telling them he feared some great disaster was about to overtake himself and family. He again laid down to rest, and, when daylight began to appear, the soldiers insisted on going to the spring, about three rods away, to wash. This spring is one of the finest of the many fine springs in Mifflin. It gushes from the base of a hill several hundred feet high, in a large, glittering current of pure soft water. Mr. Copus again cautioned the soldiers of impending danger, telling them that Indians were certainly in the neighborhood or his dogs would not have made such a noise, and urged them to take their guns with them to the spring. They promised to do so, but, on passing out, leaned them against the cabin and went on to the spring. Fatal mistake! The Indians, who had been lurking about the cabin all night, were watching for just such an opportunity as this. Swiftly, silently, stealthily, as a cat creeps upon its prey, they closed in upon the doomed cabin, and, before the soldiers were aware of their presence, were between them and their guns; then came the horrid war-whoop as a score or more of painted warriors rushed upon them with tomahawk and scalping-knife. It seems that only seven of the soldiers went to the spring to wash, the other two - George Luntz and another whose name is not given - were not probably just ready to wash, and were in the cabin when the attack was made. Of these seven at the spring, three were instantly killed. Three more, whose names were George Shipley, John Tredrick and a Mr. Warnock, finding retreat to the cabin impossible, fled to the woods. These were pursued by the Indians, and two of them tomahawked; the third, Mr. Warnock, being fleet on floot might have escaped, but could not outrun a bullet. They fired at him many times while running, one of the balls finally passing through his bowels. The Indians were not aware they had shot him, and gave up the chase. He only went a short distance, however, when, growing weak from loss of blood, he sat down by atree, stuffed his handkerchief in the wound and died.

The only soldier who regained the cabin was Mr. George Dye, who broke through the mass of savages, and sprang through the cabin door just as it was opened by Mr.Copus. He, however, received aball through his thigh as he entered. As soonas the attack commenced Mr. Copus sprang from his bed, seized his gun and rushed to the door. Just as he opened it, George Dye sprang through, and a volley of rifle balls came with him, One of these balls gave Mr. Copusa mortal wound, passing through his breast. Mr. Copus had raised his rifle, and, just as he was wounded, fired at an Indian but a few feet away, who fell. The ball that caused Mr. Copus' death passed through the strap that supported his powder-horn. This horn is yet in possession of the family; it is a large, handsome one, and a rare relic. Mr. Copus fell, and was conveyed to his bed, where he breathed his last in about an hour, while encouraging the soldiers to fight the enemy, and, if possible, save his family. On the east of the cabin extended a range of hills several hundred feet high, covered with timber and huge rocks, which furnished an excellent cover for the enemy, and gave them a position from which they could fire down upon the cabin; they were not long in seeking this cover, and, from their secure hiding-places, poured down were soon riddled with bullets. The soldiers tore up the puncheons of the floor, and placed them against the door to prevent the balls from penetrating to the interior of the cabin. Nancy Copus, a little girl, was wounded in the knee by a ball that passed through the door. One of the soldiers, George Launtz, had his arm broken bya ball while up-stairs removing the chinking in order to get a ''crack"' at an Indian. He soon caught sight of an Indian peering from behind a medium-sized oak that yet stands on the side. of the hill about a hundred yards away, and, taking deliberate aim, shot the savage, who bounded into the air and rolled to the foot of the hill into the trail.

The firing became incessant on both sides; wherever the soldiers could make or find a place to fire through they returned the Indian fire with precision and effect. One savage fell mortally wounded directly in front of the cabin, early in the engagement, whether from the ball from the rifle of Mr. Copus is not known. During the battle he was endeavoring to crawl toward the trail, and, although moaning and evidently dying, he attempted several times to elevate his rifle to discharge it upon the cabin, but his strength failed him. A soldier, seeing him attempting to shoot, sent a friendly bullet to ease him of his earthly cares and anxieties. He was shot through the head.

The battle lasted from daybreak until about nine or ten o'clock, when the savages, finding they could accomplish nothing more, raised the retreating yell, gathered up their dead and wounded (one account says nine in number) and left; first firing upon a flock of sheep, which, during the eventful morning, had huddled together upon the brow of the hill, looking down in strange bewilderment upon this scene of bloodshed. The poor affrighted animals tumbled down the hill one after another, until they lay in a heap at the bottom.

As soon as the Indians disappeared, one of the soldiers crawled out through the roof of the cabin, and made all possible haste to the block-house at Beam's for assistance. The day before, Captain Martin had agreed to call at the Copus cabin the same evening with a number of soldiers, and remain all night. But he and his soldiers, having been scouting all day and finding no signs of Indians, concluded that all apprehensions of danger were frivolous, therefore neglected to appear as agreed. He encamped above, on the Black fork, and, on the morning of the disaster, moved leisurely down the trail from the direction of Ruffner's, reaching the scene of the fight too late to aid in the fearful struggle. On approaching the cabin, he and his soldiers were awe-stricken on beholding the work of death around them. They attended at once to the wounded, and the grief-stricken family of Mr. Copus, who were weeping over the murdered husband and father. Search was made for the Indians, but, from the trail through the weeds that grew luxuriantly around the base of the hill, it was found that they had retreated around the southern brow of the bluff, gone up a ravine about a quarter of a mile away, and fled in the direction of Quaker Springs, in Vermillion township, and hence pursuit was abandoned.

Mr. Copus and the murdered soldiers were buried by the command in one grave, at the foot of an apple-tree, a few yards south of the cabin, where their bones yet repose. Captain Martin then took the family and wounded, and began his march to the block-house. Proceeding up the valley about half a mile, they halted for the night, placing pickets about the camp to prevent surprise. In all, there were about one hundred persons in thiscamp that night. The wounded were carried on poles, over which linen sheets had been sewed, making a sort of stretcher. The next morning the little army passed up the trail, near the deserted cabin of Martin Ruffner; crossing the Black fork about where the State road is now located; that being the route by which Martin had advanced. The whole party reached the block-house in safety that evening. About six weeks after this, Henry Copus and five or six soldiers returned to the cabin, and, on their way, found Mr. Warnock leaning against a tree, as before stated, dead. They buried him near by.

Thus ends the last tragedy of the Greentown [ndians. Their reasons for killing the Zimmer family have been noticed. Their reasons for killing Mr. Copus probably were that he had been instrumental in getting them removed; that is, fearing bloodshed, he had used his influence to get them away peaceably, on promise that their property should be protected. Finding their village destroyed, they entertained bitter and revengeful feelings toward Mr. Copus. As to the number of Indians engaged, nothing whatever isknown. It was found on examination of the neighborhood of the Copus cabin, that forty-five fires had been kindled, just south of the corn-field, near where Sarah had seen the Indian. These fires had been kindled in small holes, scooped out of the ground to prevent their being seen. Mrs. Vail thought the Indians had feasted on roasted corn the evening before the attack. Some writers upon this subject have inferred from the number ef fires that there were forty-five Indians engaged in the attack. This reasoning is erroneous, as Indians have frequently been known to build fires for the purpose of deceiving their enemies; and, on the other hand, halfa dozen Indians might have used one fire.

Mrs. Copus and her family were removed to Guernsey county, Ohio, by Joseph Archer and George Carroll. They were hauled through the forest to Clinton, Newark, Zanesville and Cambridge by a yoke of cattle, in an ordinary cart. The journey consumed many days, during which most of the family were compelled, on little food, to walk over a rough path, wade small streams, encamp by the wayside, and always in fear of being pursued and captured by the savages. They returned in 1815, and found their cabin as they had left it. A few of the Greentown Indians had also returned and re-erected their cabins, but peace had come by that time, and changed, somewhat, the savage nature of their Indian neighbors, with whom they ever after lived in peace and friendship.

There are yet a few mementos of that battle on the Black fork remaining. A single log of the old cabin remains, and is doing duty in a smoke-house on the premises. 'The oak, behind which the Indian was shot, still stands on the hillside, its top partly dead. A neat frame house stands a few feet west of where the cabin stood, and is occupied by Mr. John W. Vail. The spot is a lovely one. 'To the east, the steep, precipitous hill rises abruptly, and is yet covered with timber and great rocks. It is several hundred feet high, and from its base still gush the waters of the beautiful spring, just as they did on that fatal morning when they were dyed with human blood. Half a mile south. on the Black fork, lives Mrs. Sarah Vail, in a cabin alone, which she has occupied fifty-seven years. She and her sister, Amy Whetmore, now living in Seneca county, are the only surviving members of the Copus family, and were witnesses of the battle. Mrs. Vail was eighty-one years old January 1, 1881. Her mind is still clear and strong and she has a vivid recollection of that fearful tragedy.

After the war the Indians came straggling back to occupy their old hunting grounds, although but few of them had any fixed residence - they soon disappeared forever from this region,

By the treaty concluded atthe foot of the Maumee rapids, September 29, 1817, Lewis Cass and Duncan McArthur being commissioners on the part of the United States, there were granted to the Delaware Indians a reservation of three miles square, on or near the northern boundary of Marion county, and adjoining the Wyandot reservation of twelve miles square. This reservation was to be equally divided among the following persons: Captain Pipe, Zeshanau or James Armstrong, Mahantoo or John Armstrong, Sanondoyeasquaw or Silas Armstrong, Teorow or Black Raccoon, Howdorouwatistic or Billy Montour, Buck Wheat, William Dondee, Thomas Lyons, Johnnycake, Cap- tain Wolf, Isaac and John Hill, Tishatahoones or Widow Armstrong, Ayenucere, Hoomauon or John Ming, and Youdorast. Many of these Indians had lived at Jeromeville and Greentown.

By the treaty concluded at Little Sandusky, August 3, 1829, John McElvain being the United States' commissioner, the Delawares ceded this reservation to the United States for three thousand dollars, and removed west of the Mississippi.