Wood County, Ohio - The whole text, 1910 (part 6 of 8)

"That eveiy person is responsible for his acts, whenever lie acts upon actual facts and real cireuinsiances. That all that I'ortei- chiinied as motives for his acts - the injuries and insults received from Bichardson - were all founded upon actual facts and real circumstances. There was no delusion or unreal facts about this case. Whatever motives actuated him, they were like all the rational acts of mankind, founded upon real facts and actual circumstances."

The sentence of the court was that he be hung on Fri(hiy, the .5tli day of the following November. There was a great deal of public sympathy shown for Porter. He had to be sure, taken the life of a fellow man, but that man was a notoriously bad man and tlie deed had been done under tlie most provoking circumstances. Poi-ter was crushed and broken in spirit and had no inlluential friends to intercede for him, a thing he was too dispirited to do for himself, even if he had his liberty. The means of communicating with the executive were long and tedious, beside there were no good grounds, assuming tlie court's charge to the jury to be correct, upon which to base a petition asking the clemency of the governor. Mr. Webb, a man of kind and humane disposition, formed quite a strong attachment and kindly feeling toward the prisoner on account of his reconciled and submissive conduct, and it taxed his utmost resolution of mind to reconcile sympathy and duty.

Meigs in the presence of a great number of people who had assembled to witness the sad spectacle. His body was buried in the little burying ground just west of the Perry sburg jail.

Whatever may have been the sympathy for Porter, or however much his claim to executive clemency, the execution no doubt had a salutary effect. Nothing is so much calculated to restrain crime as the certainty that punishment and the inexorable exec-ntion of the law will f()l!o\v. - G. W. E.

Simon Girty

There are few localities in the State of Ohio more fertile in historic reminiscences than Henry county. About five miles up the river from Napoleon is wbat is known as Girty's island, so called from the fact of its having been the abiding place of that notorious white renegade, Simon Girty, whose treatment of white captives was more inhuman and fiendish than even that of the red savages by whom he had been reared from early childhood. The history of Simon (lirty is familiar, no doubt, to thousands, but there are features in the family record of the Girty family that always afford fresh food for conjecture. The family in general was shiftless and ne'er do well. There were four brothers, Thomas, Simon, George and James. Each was adopted by an Indian tribe, Simon by the Senecas, the most warlike of all the great Iroquois confederacy.

Simon Girty and Simon Kenton were at one time scouts together, and perhaps the only humane or kindly act in Girty's life was his intercession for Kenton's life in one instance where he had been captured, tortured and sentenced to death by the Indians. Girt}', however, after having in every conceivable manner antagonized both Indians and whites by his multiplicity of inhuman and treacherous acts, was compelled to seek refuge and concealment in the territory now embraced in what is known as Henry county. Ho had wantonly and indiscriminately murdered and pillaged right aiul left until he became a hunted fugitive, a veritalde Avanderer on the face of the earth. He eventually sought safety in the famous '*Black Swamp" of the northwest, and here opposite the island, on the bank of the Maumee, he erected his cabin, and whenever danger would menace him, would retire into the densely wooded swamp, where it Avas absolutely impossible to dislodge him. How long he remained here, is not definitely known, or whetlu'r his death was the result of the infirmities incident to old age, or more tragic in its character. He was unquestionably one of the boldest and at the same time most treacherous and inhuman outlaws of which American history has anv record.

Wayne'S Two Graves

(ien. Wayne is one of the few famous nu'u who have two graves, each equally entitled to commemoration. He died of gout at Erie. Pa., then Fort Presque Isle, in 17 UG, when he was on his return from his successful Indian campaigns in the northwest. He was buried at the foot of the flagstaff in the fort, and there lay undisturl)ed for nearly twenty years. Tlu-n there came through the woods froni the other end of the State, in a sttlky, liis son in search of his father's bones. He engaged Dr. John C. Wallace, who had l)een through the Indian wars with (it'll. Wayne, to exhume his bones, and ])ack them in a box, that they might be strapped to the sulky and taken through tlie woods and over the mountains to the family residence in Chester county. When Dr. ^^'allace opened the grave he found, to his great surprise, the body in an alnmst ]K'rfect state of preservation. Tlie flesh liad not decayed. But it was im])ossil)le foi- young Wayne to carry the cotlin and contents in his sulky. So Dr. Wallace, who seems to have been devoid of feeling as one of the Indians whom he fought, decided, on his own motion, and without consulting Mr. Wayne, to separate the General's bones from their enveloping flesh and thus enable tliem to ])e removed.

To accom])]ish this, hoilirg had to be resorted to, and the bones were then denuded of flesh by the use of knives, and were ])acked and carried away by young Wayne, and buried near the homestead in which Gen. Wayne was born and in wliicli Ills descendants still live. Tliis account of the ghoul-like proceedings of

Dr. W'alUuc has an incredible sound, but it is literally and strictly true, and will lie ( on'oboratinl by any old citizen of Erie. Young i\Ir. Wayne knew nothing of Dr. Wallat'c's operations until many years aflei-. lie was then greatly shocked and de'clarcil that he would never have permitted such treatment of his father's remains, hut would have returned them lo the grave and postponed their removal to a more convenient season. Yet there is no reason to doubt that Dr. Wallace, who was a useful and prominent man in his day. thought he was doing everything for the best, and meant no disrespect to the mortal jiart of liis old friend and ])atit'nt and armv comrade. General Wayne.

Over the General's bones, in Chester county, a monument was raised. But his flesh was returned to its grave at the foot of the flag-staff, in Fort Presque Isle, by Dr. Wallace, and forgotten. The fort - a mere stockade - crumbled away, the tiag-stalf decayed, and the precise location of the grave was lost.

Some four years ago, however, a digger for relics on the site of the old fort, unearthed a coftin-cover, into which l)rassheaded nails had been so driven as to form the initials "A. W.'' with the figures of Wayne's age, date of his death, etc. This determined the location of the grave, and there has since been in Erie a feeling that it should be marked by a monument of some sort. It has, in fact been surrounded by chains, supported by four pieces of superannuated artillery, and also marked by a flag-staff, but something more permanent is desired, and will doulitless be built - ^if not by legislative aid. then by local subscription.

The last tribe of Indians to remove from Ohio was the Wyandot of Upper- Sandusky, who ceded their lands in 1812, and tlu' following year left for the west.

Burning Off A Prairie

James Robertson came from Scotland and located in the eastern part of Middleton township in 1836. One morning after he had selected the land for his future home, Mr. Robertson and two of his sons started from Perrvsburg for their land for the purpose of selecting a building site, with a horse and wagon, hauling a tent and some other material. They came by a blazed wagon track and pitched their tent in the edge of Htdrs Prairie, arriving just at sundown. About 15 minutes after they had arrived at their destination they were startled by the sudden appearance of five Indians on horseback, who had followed up their trail, and tbe Indians seemed as much surprised as they. After surveying the situation a moment the Indians gave the Rol:>ertsons to understand their mission was to "scotto,"" that is to bum off the prairie. They then proceeded about three miles to the southwest, touched fire to the grass which had not been burned for two years. The flames spread like the wind and Mr. Amelius Robertson states that it did not seem over ten minutes before it had traveled the intervening distance between where it was set and the edge of the woods where they were encamped, and that the smoke alnu)st suffocated them in their tent. He also says that the flames went nearly as high as the trees, and that the streets of Perrysburg 5 1-2 miles distant were so lighted by the fire that they could see to pick up a pin, and that all the grass on Hull Prairie covering hundreds of acres, was licked up by the flames in twenty minutes. Mr. Robertson built a cabin on his land the next spring, 1837, and moved in with his familv.

A Hunter'S Paradise

IX a communication to the Tribune, Mr. J. F. Dubbs says: Wild hogs were very plentiful in the forests, but while they afforded the settlers a temporary resource at times, to replenish the pork barrel, they were at other times not only troublesome, but dangerous neighbors. They would mingle with tame hogs in the woods and toll them away often, where the tame ones would soon be as wild as their forest kin. Then too, if man or beast should suddenly come upon a band and disturb them in their bed or disturb the young, every hog would instantly become a savage, bristling, furious assailant and the intruder was lucky if he happened to be near a tree which he coitld climb quickly. Among the bands that roamed thf woods was one enormous

With murderous tusks, which was alike a terror to hunters and dogs. This dangerous brute - a veritable king of the forests - was as wily and cunning as a bear, but like all kings and rulers, all his ways were not the paths of wisdom. He got a notion of slipping in nights and lodging with the iKtbbs herd till the chickens crowed in the morning, when he would rise, shake himself and join his wild brethren in the forest.

on^ and at the time there was quite a strife in the settlement as to who should be the lucky captor of the big boar. One morning the Dubbs, father and sons, with their two dogs, stole a march on the old woods patriarch, and as he passed out the dogs were turned loose, and after a sharp race his hogship came to bay and faced the dogs. When the men came up the brute again fled, but the dogs at once fastened on him; one dog laid hold at the elbow of the fore shoulder; the other at the ear; the latter was instantly hurled into the air with a ghastly slash across its throat from which the blood poured in a stream. The other dog, a powerful fellow, was able to stop the boar, and the brute could not reach him with its deadly tusks.

By this time, Henry Dubbs, James' father, a stout resolute man, came up, furious at the fate of his faithful dog, and seized the boar by its long tail and at once took a turn around a small sapling whore he could easily hold the hog. The plan was to capture, confine and JV'cd the boar until he was fat; at that tinu' Mr. l)ttbl)s' sou, John, came up, the hug was tied and thrown, his nose lasliL'd, his tusks cut off, after which he was hauled in on a stone boat, and imprisoned in a high, strong log pen.

When lie found he could not escape, his gnashing of teeth and hideous aspect was startling to witness, but in all the scrap from first to last not a cry or squeal did he make, except enraged grunts. For days the old fellow would not eat; then he would eat in the night. At last he began to gain, and though when butchered and sold at Perrysburg he was not fat, yet he was a monstrous big porker.

These wild hogs are supposed to ha\"e sprung from strays from some of tlie army quartermasters' droves brought here in the war of 1812. They were qtiite numerous here from 1830 to 1843.

Removing The Indians

AN old pioneer, writing to the Sentinel, says: Between the years 1835-40, the Government began to move the Indians to their reservations in the West and the tribes becoming broken up, were scattered over a large portion of Northwestern Ohio and Northeastern Indiana, and part of Michigan, reaching from Ft. Wayne, Indiana, to Sandusky, Ohio, and including Crawford county, which was named after Colonel Crawford who was so brutally butchered and murdered at the stake by Simon Girty (a white man), after having

The tribes and parts of tribes that used to inhabit this part of the country, were the Ottawas, Pottawatomies, Kickapoos, Shawnees, Wyandots and Miamis. After General Harrison's victory at Fort Meigs, and the treaty was effected and peace was declared again, many of them remained and they were considered friendly, and indeed were so as the old settlers well know. A mission station was made on the Maumee river; Rev. Isaac Van Tassel was sent as a missionary to preach to them, and I believe he taught school among them for a while. The largest settlement as I remember, was in Sandusky county, and the largest in Wood countv was at the station and at Tontogaiiy. which is an Indian name and I think named after one of their chiefs. They iiad one small settlement on creek in Henry county, and a few stragglers were camjjed for a while in Milton townshij), this county. In the fall they would go from their camps in Sandusky, Seneca and Wyandot counties, to Wood and Henry counties to camp out for tlie winter and liunt, and when the spring would o])en they Avould return again with their pelts and furs taken during the winter season. In the summer they woukl resort to the rivers and lakes where they could fish, that heing their favorite and pi-incipal diet during til" Slimmer months.

The remnant of the ^laumee Ottawas were at this time assembled at Buttonwood island, a mile above Perrysburg, preparatory to removal to the country assigned them west of the Mississippi. Eobert A. Forsyth was entrusted by the Government ^^itli the undertaking. The Indians made a pleasant camp on the island for a month or more, and were visited daily Ijy the citizens of the towns below. They had been sadly demoralized by intercourse with the whites; but a few of their chiefs and leaders retained enough of the old ancestral spirit to inspire them with considerable energy and enterprise after they Avere settled in their new home. Ottoca, the head chief, was a fat, good-natured fellow, a favorite with his tribe and very social with the whites. His half-brother, Noteno, was greatly his superior in executive ability, and at this time probably the most intelligt'nt ]naii among them. Petonguet, a tall, slender graceful man, with features of a J^oman cast had been the hero of a tragedy some years before in the neighl)orhood of Eoche de Boeuf. He was much esteemed for bravery and very popular with his tribe. But a hundred in all remained of this once powerful l)eoj)lt', and they were "like strangers in a desert home." A day or two after the tornado, Ottoca, while passing the ruins of the hotel, remarked, with significant gesticulation :

After their removal these Indians abandoned their habits of savage life, engaged in agriculture, adopted civilized customs, and became a substantial, orderly community. They accumulated property, erected schools and churches, and to-day I believe they are regarded by the people of Kansas as among their most quiet, law-abiding citizens. Eev. Peter Jones was their leading clergyman, and he was a lineal descendant of Pontiac, who little more than a century before was King of all the country from the Maumee to Mackinaw, and disputed inch by inch its s:'ttlement t)v the whites.

Navigation

AT a Pioneers' meeting held at Fort Meigs, in 1880, Charles E. Bliven gave an address, from which we glean the following facts regarding ship building on the Maumee river. He says: A small steamer, called the Phenomenon, remodeled from a canal boat, was built at Eochester, N. Y., in 1834, and brought to the Maumee river, being towed through Lake Erie in 1836. She was then called the Sun and was comma]ided by C'apt. C. K. Bennett.

Burial Ground Of Col. Dudley And His Men

On May II. 181 3, the Bodies of Col. Dudley and About 1 30 Kentuckians Were Brought to Ft. Meigs and There Buried. They Were Massacred Six Days Before

The Griffith, built at Perrysburg, it will l)e remembered by our older citizens, A\as destroyed by fire on the lake, and a number of her passengers perished in the disaster.

IN the year 1833, Isaac Cable and his three sons, Silas, Benjamin and Jonathan, also Michael Miller and Michael Myers, from near Canton, Stark county, Ohio, settled at New Eochester. Almost at the same time a party of settlers, among whom were Henry Nailer, Michael N. Myers, Christian Shelley, Ashael Powers, Henry Hahn, and several others came in from Lorain county and settled at Pemberville and above on the north fork of the river.

Most of the lands below the forks had been bought up by speculators, but most r of the settlers at that time, could get good lands near the river at government price, $1.25 per acre. Wood county was at that time in the Delaware land district. The Pembers came the next year. James Pember had previously married the daughter of Ashael Powers, which circumstance, no doubt, was the cause

Pof his locating in Wood county, as his father-in-law was the chief landed proprietor of what is now Pemberville. They encountered untold hardships at first, and indeed for a long time, chills, shaking ague and intermittent fevers visited them each year, and at times there were not enough persons in the settlement to take care of the sick. But still they hoped for a better day, and kept courage and faith.

Late in the fall of 1834, there were barely enough able abodied men to raise a log school house at the Forks. At this raising, a petition was drawn up and signed, asking the commissioners for a separate township organization. Mr. Hiram Pember, who now lives in Pemberville, and whom we hope may be spared many years yet, gave the township its name.

At the following December session, the commissioners, Guy Nearing, James Wilkinson and John Pray, and John C. Spink, Auditor, heard the petition, and ordered the townslii]i set off in a separate organization, and that an election be held at the house of Michael N. Myers, the first Monday of the following April. Freedom at that time was a part of Perrysburg towiiship. It is in date of organization, tlie sixth township in the coimty.

Troy and Montgomery townships were organized at the same time, and held their first election on the same day. - C. W. Evers in Log Cabin Sketches.

An Athlete

UNCLE GUY NEARING took a subcontract from Contractor Beebe, on the Miami and Erie Canal. Contractor Beebe drew the money and appropriated it to his own use. He failed to pay Nearing, who was thereby ruined, having mortgaged his property. While his canal work was going on he became involved in a difficulty with some of the canal men, and while passing up the river with a team he was attacked by seven Irishmen with clubs. He whipped five of them, but had seven of his ribs broken and dislocati'd from the backbone, from the effects of which he died about a year after, in 1840. Before being taken down with the fever at Providence, he had nuide great preparation to take part in the big Harrison gathering at Fort Meigs. He had a buckeye log cut on Girt/s Island above Napoleon. The log was of large size and 50 feet long, which he sjnt to Fort Meigs.

Bitten By A Snake

IX tl)e year LS-iU, Antliony Ewing, a young lad, was bitten by a snake, and was badly poisoned. Doctor Conant of Maumee, was sent for, who came up to Waterville, and called for a guide to take him across the river over the Rapids. Noah Reed, then a boy, mounted a pony and brought the Doctor over. The boy was most terribly swollen and spotted, and Dr. Conant failed to give any relief. About this time an old Indian came over from the Indian village opposite. The Indian proposed to cure the lad for a gallon of whisky, and his proposition Avas readily agreed to. The Indian soon began to gather some herbs, and administered his restorative to the boy. The cure was a sttccess. But the Indian concealed his operations in eifecting the cure from the white medicine man. Dr. Conant afterwards gave the Indian three gallons of whisky for his recipe.

The Maumee River

THE glory of the Maumee with its pirogues, boatmen and fur traders; its Indian hunters and trappers with their canoes, peltries, pappooses and squaws, is a thing of the past. Even the sturgeon, muscalonge and ponderous catfisli of other days arc gone, and the waters of the old river, whose name is rich in Indian romance and historic lore - on whose banks the honor of our nation's flag and the fate of the great northwest liung in tlie balance, amid the clash of arms and roar of cannon, is now polluted and muddy from vast black alluvial deposits sent in by the interminable cordon and net work of artificial water courses and ditches tributary to its channel. It is no longer its natural self. It is a destructive, raging, mad torrent to-day; to-morrow its naked rocks and unsightly, slimy bed scarce deserve the name of river.

Schap-Book Simon Kenton

Not far from this town is Rush Lake, and not far from that is the head waters of the Scioto and Mad rivers. Near by, too, the Auglaize, the head source of the Maumee, starts on its tortuous course to Lake Erie. It was on a high peak on this divide where Wayne's faithful scouts lay secreted and discovered the massing of the Indian forces under Little Turtle, to crush Mad Anthony, then marching his army to the Maumee country, as he had previously done to St. Clair. The wily chieftain, however, never got an opportunity to ambush Wayne, nor ever caught him napping.

heart ne'er felt a fear." The iron nerve of this remarkable man during the soul trying adventures of 40 years' experience among hostile Indians in the wilds of Virginia, Kentucky and Ohio, would suffice for a regiment of ordinary heroes. During his captivity among the Indians, he was made to run the gauntlet eight times, and three times he was tied to the stake for torture by fire. At this very little town, Wappatomica, he was once condemned to die. His face was painted black, and he had resigned himself to his fate. He sat tied hand and foot on the ground in the council house, surrounded by his savage persecutors, a dejected, friendless being. He understood not a word of what his fiendish captors said, but knew the dreadful import of their proceedings. At that time a white man came in from a distant expedition with some scalps and learned of the preparation for the torture of a white prisoner. He addressed the prisoner in English and asked him his name. When he heard Kenton's name he fell upon his neck and cried aloud. It was the

He and Kenton had been fast friends and scouts together in the Dunmore war. The Indian wamors looked on the scene with amazement. What a theme for an artist's brush the portrayal of that scene would afford, or what a startling stage scene. Girty, who was a bloodthirsty enemy of the whites, rose to his feet, and in the most earnest appeal to the savages in behalf of the prisoner, an old friend and brother whom he had not seen for many snows, succeeded in getting up a division of sentiment and saved the life of the prisoner, though a portion of the savages were crazy mad for the torture to go on. This is the only instance recorded of Girty in which he showed mercy to a prisoner. In a few days thereafter Kenton was again condemned and sent to Sandusky for execution, but this time a British agent saved his life. It seems a little strange that the old hero should leave Kentucky in after life and settle down in the very village where his narrow escape from a horrid death occurred 40 years before. Perhaps this very fortunate escape made him regard tlie spot with a kindly feeling.

November 8, 1900, a monument was unveiled at Mansfield, Ohio, in honor of "Johnny Appleseed," whose unselfish character made him so true to his mission of planting nurseries and sowing the seeds of medicinal herbs in Ohio.

Shocking Suicide

Soon after James Pembers arrival in 1836 in Freedom township, he purchased a tract of land from a man named Benjamin Waite, paying him for it $600, which sum proved to be the only perceivable cause for the uian's suicide.

Xo sooner had Waite l)econie possessed of the money, tliau lie was seized with the insane belief that he was pursued by robbers. He counted and recounted his money. He grew to distrust his wife. She was no longer a safe guardian of his i^elf. Avaricious spirits and wood demons luuinted his footsteps in the forests, and red-hauded pirates haunted his fitful slundjers in apparitions more dreadful than the "si)ectre Ijridegroom.''

(Iloominess and nudanclioly gradually took the place of a once cheerful mind. On other matters he seemed right enough. But that he should be i'ol)l)ed he was certain, and notlung coiiM dissipate the delusion from his mind, and hnally he lost confidence in all cai-thly tilings except his dog.

It was in this state of mind that he and his wife staitt'd back to Lorain county where they Jiad come from. The first night out they stopped at Sherwood's tavern at Grt'cn Creek, Sandusky county, still pursued by robbers, as he thought. In the night, his wife missed him, and began to feel mieasy on account of his absence, but he returned and told her that he had been out to hide his money. As soon as it was light in the morning, she went with him to get it. He went nearly a mile as she thought, into the thick woods, as direct as if he had been following a path, where they found the dog tied to a bush with his master's necktu'. Xear by under a root he dug up the mon(y. ^^'hat seemed still stranger than all, was the fact of the night s being exceedingly dark and his being wholly unfamiliar with the woods. The next night they reached \'ermillion liver, where they stopped at a tavern again. His wife lay awake and watched him for a time. He seemed to be resting well and finally overcome with weariness, she fell into a light sleep, only to be startled in a short time with a heavy fall on the floor, in the room where they slept. She instantly perceived that his phu-c in bed was vacant, and hastened to get a light. She found him lying on the floor, red with his own blood and with what little strength and life yet remained, he was still dealing himself deathly stabs with a butcher knife. One almost imagines the poor victim in the sajne state of mind as Foe, in Lenore:

In li<() luigland was the most ad- \anced of ;ill the ages in constitutional liberty, Init when Ave Avent to war "For Xo Taxation Without Eepresentation" and created a new nation, we reached a higher plane in the advance of civilization.

Jn the latter ])art of the Eighties a bill was introduced into congress and pushed to a vote. This bill provided means for erecting monuments to perpetuate the menujry of Perry's victory, Ft. Meigs, Ft. j\Iiami, Ft. Industry and the battle of Fallen Timber. This bill was finally stricken from tlu' appropriations bill.

WE have do data, at hand to give any account of volunteers, if any, J'roni Wood county during the Mexican war. a.< tlu' county was then sparsely settled, there Ijcing a population of not over lo.OOt) prohably in the entire county. But in the war of the rebellion, and that of the war with Spain she gave abundajit e\idence of her pah'iotisui and loyalty.

In tlie War of the Rebellion, thousands of her sons enlisted in the various regiments, and hundreds gave their lives in the defence of their country. Her l)rave Ijoys were distrilnited in the 14th,

-^Ist, 4i»tli. ."iotb, ruth. (iUli, l-^d, lOOth, l;)lst, llltii, 123d, 144th. isrnh. 18Gth, and 189tli regiments of Ohio A'olunteer Infantry. Aside from these Wood county had its representatives in cavalry, artiHery, battery aiul naval service, while many of hei- sons wei-e enlisted in regiinejit< from otliei- states. Then when the county had l)een well strij)})ed of its ahle-l)o(lie(l men, hundreds more, known as the "s(piiiTel huntt'rs" of 1S()2, hastened to the ivlief of ('incinnati when threatened by the invasion of Kirby Smith and his rebel legions.

Then in the war with S[);iin in 1898, Wood county furnished 222 nun in Companies H and K of the 2d Ohio Regiment. The Ijoys entered the service in April. 1898, and were mustered out in February. 1899, retui'iiing liome without a nuin missing.

Newspaper History

THE first newspa})er published in A\'ood county was the ]\Iiami of the Lake, .lessup W. Scott, editor. The first numljer of this paper was issued Decembt'r 11. 1833, and the paper continued to l)e j)ublished under this mime imtil tlie 18th of August. 1838, when tlie 7iame was changed to The Ohio Whig and continued under this name until the first of .lune, 1844, when the name was changed to the Fort Meigs Keveille aiul under this uanu' it was published till the 10th of ^larcJi. 18r)3, and was then changed to the Perrysburg -lournal. It was started as a Whig paper and so continued until the fall of 1854, Avhen the Republican party drove the old Whig party from the field. Tlu' Journal became an advocate

The next ])aper issued in Wood county was the Wood County Packet. This |iaj)i'r was Democratic in politics, and it was said to have been ably conducted during the brief ])eriod while it existed. It was stalled in the year 1838 or 1839, and closed in the year 1841, or immediately after the memorable hard-cider and coon-skin campaign.

Soon after another Democratic j)aper started at Perrysburg al)out the year 1845, but there remains nothing from which its history can be learned.

In the year A.D., 1853, Albert D. A\'right commenced the publication of the Xorth AVestern Democrat, a Democratic pajHT. as its nanu' indicates. The first issue of this i)a|)er was on the 22d of May. 1852. and ^li-. Wright continued ihe puhlical ion until his death by choh'ra in the summer of 1854.

publication continued till the 22d of January, 1855, when the name was changed to the Maumee Valley Democrat, and continued to be published under that name until September 3, 1857, when the name was again changed and from that time to the 7th of October, 1858, it was published under the name of The Democrat, when for want of support its publication ceased.

In the year 1862 the Independent was started at Perrysburg, and continued to be published when it was removed to Toledo and the name changed to the Democratic Eecord.

The Buckeye Granger, a paper as its name sufficiently indicates, was started at Perrysburg on the 10th of November, 1874, for the purpose of advocating the principles and advancing the interests of the "Grangers." It was neutral in politics, but finally became the Democratic organ of the county, continuing as such until its collapse.

The contest between Perrysburg and Bowling Green in the year 1866, over the removal of the county seat, called into existence the Advocate at Bowling Green, the publication of which was discontinued a short time after the election in the above named year. In January, 1867 the first number of the Sentinel was issued and subsequently the name was changed to the Wood County Sentinel. This paper from the beginning advocated the principles of the Republican party.

In the fall of 1874, J. D. Baker commenced the publication of the Wood County Democrat, but discontinued after about four months, and sold the press to Bowling Green parties, who began the pu1)Iication of the Wood County News, in May, 1875, and which paper had a lively existence until in November, after the election, and at the age of six months the News office was merged with the Wood County Sentinel, and was

The New Baltimore Enterprise was commenced in March, 1875, and its successor, the Wood County Democrat was issued in December, 1878, by D. E. & B. L. Peters. In 1880 it passed into the hands of Wm, B. and Russell T. Dobson; in July, 1889, Henry Holterman took the paper and in September, 1890, Henry S. Chapin became the proprietor, and continues its publication up to the present time. D. C. Van Voorhis became connected with the paper in 1892, and is still with the paper. The Democrat was published as a daily in the campaigns of 1894 and 1896. It has a wide circulation throughout the county.

Other papers that have had a brief existence in Bowling Green, were the Bowling Green Journal, The Wood County Republican, The Bowling Green News, Wood County Agitator, The Reporter, The Wood County Gazette, The Daily Gazette, The Wood County News, The Wood County Free Press,

Besides these other papers in the county are The North Baltimore Times, successor to the Bairdstown Times, The Bloomdale Derrick, Wood County Tribune, Evening Tribune, Weston News, Weston Avalanche, The Free Press, The Weston Reporter, The Weston Herald, Pemberville Independent, Pemberville Brick Block, Pemberville Reporter, Wood County Index, Pemberville Leader, Pemberville Presbyterian, Farm and Fireside, Grand Rapids Triumph, The Cygnet Globe, The Cygnet Gusher, The Christian Review, Tontogany Weekly Herald, The Weekly Graphic, The Bradner News, Prairie Depot Observer, and The Bradner Advocate.

A Horrible Tragedy

ME. HUTCHINSON'S first work as Constable in Milton township was summoning a jury to hold an inquest over the body of a man by the name of Simmons, who was killed by his wife in the spring of 1836, and who lived on a place in the northeast corner of Jackson township, at that time a part (^f Milton. Mr. Simmons had moved there with his family against the wishes of his wife. She disliked the dismal situation as it then was, and in brooding over her condition her mind probably became deranged. Several times she made the attempt to run away, but each time was brought back by her husband. She at last, as she afterwards expressea it, resolved "to get rid of her husband" and go back to her old home, and therefore watched her opportunity. One Sunday morning Mr. Simmons rose early, built a fire, and then laid down to rest for a while on a bed containing his three children and went to sleep. His wife, evidently perceiving a good time to carry out her purpose, arose, took a broad-ax from under her bed and with one blow literally cut his head off. The jury summoned found a verdict in accordance with the foregoing facts, and Mrs. Simmons was afterwards taken to an asylum, wliere, after lingering some time, death ]mt to rest the crazed brain.

Willard V. Way

ME. EVERS, in 1875, gave an extended sketch of Willard V. Way, who died at his home in Perrysburg in the latter part of August of that year, at the age of 68. Mr. Evers says: Mr. Way was born in Otsego county, New York, in 1807, and was a graduate of Union College, after which he read law for a time, when he removed to Painesville, Ohio, finished his law studies and located in Perrysburg in the year 1834. Mr. Way was an attorney by profession and though not an eloquent jury lawyer he attained the reputation of being an excellent and safe counselor. He held several county offices, among others that of Auditor and in every position he occupied he showed both care and ability. He was at an earlier day a politician of consider;! l)lo foresieht and sagacitv and

On the authority of Mr. Michael Hays, an early Democratic associate of Mr. Way, the latter was a leader in the party and a convention had been called at which Mr. Way was a candidate for the State Senate. The convention folks from the river were coming out in a two horse wagon and had stopped at the Strickland place to "take something."

About this time John C. Spink, the leading Whig spirit of the county, drove up and asked Mr. Hays to get in his buggy and ride out with him. Mr. Hays said to Spink, "What are you going out to a Democratic Convention for?" "To raise the devil," said Spink, and sure enough, remarks Mr. Hays, he did raise the devil. Way got mad at the way things went and was further irritated at his defeat, by what he considered unfair means in the Senatorial Convention. Mr. Hays says that he was never more surprised than when a few days after Way rode along 1»y liis place in company with Asher Cook wlio \v;is tlini reading law with liini and cidled ]Iavs to him and said with niiicli warmth of feeling, "Hays, I have huilt iij) the Demoeratic part}' in Wood county and now so help me G - d I will tear it down."' In later years he acted with tlic Tvepid^lican party.

It is estimated tliat liis real estate alone is worth $80, 000 and his estate is estimated at $ir)0,000 to $175,000. He was of a literary turn of mind and took a great interest in educational matters and the pioneer history of tlie Valley. He ".vrote and ])id)lished in pamphlet form a history of the "]\Iichigan War," an amusing and ratlicr interesting aceonnt of the Stale boundary line eontest.

Jn his will the Union Sehool of Perrysburg in perpetuity is given $."),000, the interest of which is to go toward defraying the College expense of some well reeonnnended graduate of said schools.

His homestead and six villagt' lots are left in custody of his wife, so long as she lives, then it goes to the town for a public park. $l.j,000 is set apart as a |)er])etual fund, the interest only of which can ])e used in the support of the library. All the rest of the proceeds of the estate may be used in the purchase of a lot and the construction of a suitable building and the ])urchase of hooks as and in such mannei- as the town Council may think best, but for ]io other jmrpose.

The Woodbury House

IX a letter to the Wood County Republican, C. W. Evers, at the request of the editor, gave the following facts regarding the Woodbury House, correcting the many prevalent errors regarding it. ^[r. Evers says:

The village of Woodbury was surveyed and platted by Hiram Davis, a pioneer surveyor of ^Vood county, ]\Iay 4, 1837, for John Thompson, Henry B. Gibson and Jal)ez B. Larwell. The location was at a point where the east and west line dividing Liberty and Hcni-y townships. Wood county, intersects the Fiiullay pike. Two years prior to the sur\-ey or in 1835, a postoffice had been established, kept in a log store room by Jose])h Tliompson. After the survey (icneral Thoin])son built the frame house which has becji the theme of so many stories uncanny and otherwise. After (ienei-al Thompson's dream of a city growing up there had been dissipated l)y a few wet, sickly seasons, the house stood vacant at times for want of a tenant, and seems to liave only l)een occu])ied l)y some chance comer who liad no other jdace. to go. Xow you know how soon a liouse of this sort will, deservedly perhaps, get a bad name - get "haunted," etc. Some time in the 60's, it burned to the ground, no doubt by design of some one to abate a nuisance. The postoffice was moved about in the settlement still retaining the name "Woodl)ury" until 1876, when it was di'opped from the rolls and is now only a I'cuiiniscence.

So f;ii- as can be verified 1)v historical records or by Indian traditicm, thi' ^liami tribe of Indians were the original "pioneers" of the Maumee A'alley. They wi're always true to the coivlidence reposed in them, and in their chiefs, from tinu' inini.iiiorial, v.'v're second in ability to I'.oir' ()'' t!r ir time.

A Night With Indians

I in February of the year 1838, his uncle. John Duhbs, lived in a cabin in Jackson township, and he lived with him, Ijcinga small boy at tliat time. A lad named Simmons about my age also lived there.

Tlu're was an Indian slianty on liis uncle's land occupied l)y four Indians, [ t\A'o men and two squaws: tlie men were brothers: John and Bol) were their names : the old S([uaw was the mother of the two men. the young squaw was Bob"s wife. She was young and handsoiru'. and Bol) was. very ])roud of his wife. John was always nuul at Bob because he had a wife and he, John, had none, 'i'he day preceding the night iji (pu'stion, it had snowed about eight inches dee]) and tiu'ned very cold.

:\Ir. Dubbs says : " About 9 o'clock at night the Indian family came to our cabin and asked for admittance, for they were very cold. I'ncle John opened the door. I can look back through the mists of time and see those Indians walk in with their blankets around them and with their knives in their belts. The men were over six feet tall and built in proportion. They took their seats around the fire place while we occupied the back part of the cabin. All was quiet for a little while. A man l)y the name of Rowan had a notion store and kept whisky a])out one mile from our cabin. The Indians had been there and procured a jug of whisky, of which they had partaken quite freely. When they began to thaw out the whisky began to take effect, and caused the spirit of Cain to rise in John, so he wanted to slav his brother, for he hated him because he had a wife. All at once the stillness was broken by Indian John jjouncing upon Bob with all the fierceness of a tiger, grappling him by the throat and felling him to the floor, smashing Ibe chair on which he was sitting: tiicn the squaws took sides with Bob; they were all in a pile before the fire. The fight was fierce, but Bob soon cried murder I lie said John has a knifi' and will kill me.

Uncle dolm Hnhhs no soonei' ln'anl this than be ordered us to open the door, which we did: then he sprang and caught Big John l)y tlu' legs and lumblcd him heels over lu'ad cmt of the cabin. Uncle -lohn lit on top of him. and told him if he didn't lav still he would kill h.im in a minute. I'ncle John held him by the hands and told Simmons and me to run to the stable and bring his plow lines, which we did quick as we could in the dark. Soon Big .lohn was thoroughly hound from lu'ad to foot.

Then Uncle John began lo feel that he Avas nu)narch once more and ihat the red man had no business his rights to dispute: he told Simmons and me to go and bring sonu' straw which we did. and he rolled Big John in the straw, and said, now lay thei-e and freeze' until you can behave yourself. The cold soon made John beg hard to he let loosv : be said "nu^ be good Injin, lite no more." When he was i)unished enough Uncle dohn let him loose aiul sent tlu'iu home to their shanty.

It being now about twt'hc o'clock, and the excitement (d' the evening hei:ig over, we retired to rest. We had not been in hml mort' than trie hour when the dogs l)egan to bar'k and soon the piteous cries of some one was heard at tlie door pleading to be let in. Uncle John's ])atience being pretty well exhausted he yelled at the top of his voice for them to go home and not bother him any more. But the cries continued more ])itiful, saying John has

By this time the whole house was aroused again, and Uncle John got up and struck a light and opened the door, and there stood the young and once beautiful squaw with her face literally cut to pieces. She was covered with blood from head to foot, and nearly frozen, the cold causing her wounds to bleed very profusely. Uncle John and the girls warmed some water and washed and dressed the wounds the best they could. I think there were about four or five bad cuts on her face and head. She soon felt better, and said she guess John

Soon as it was daylight Uncle John took the squaw and started to the shanty to see the slaughter there which he expected to find, but to his surprise he found the old squaw, John and Bob all laying with their feet toward the fire sound asleep. He woke them up and told John what he had done, and how he had broken his promise, and now they must leave his place, and never come back, which orders they promptly obeyed, and we never saw this Indian family any more.

The Black Swamp

YEARS ago, when the tide of emigration was strongly settling to the then Western States of Michigan, Illinois and Iowa, no locality, says the Toledo Blade, was better known or more dreaded than the "Black Swamp." The limits of this "Swamp" were never very well defined, l)ut the largest part of it is embraced in Wood county. At the time when this "Black Swamp" was enjoying its reign of terror, prior to the construction of Western Reserve & Maumee Stone Road, movers passing from the East to the West found tlio greatest difficulty in going from the Portage river, at Woodville, to till' ^launiee river, at Perrysburg. While all of this distance was not properly "Swamp," two or three stone ridges rising out of tlic mud and water to cheer tlu' weary traveler, the greater portion of ihc fiflcrn mile? was emphatically a "Swam])," covci-cd with water

Old settlers relate many amusing incidents connected with travel through the "Swamp" in those days, and the hardships endured by "movers" can probably never be too strongly colored. "Taverns" were located along the line of the traveled road in great numbers, not more than one-half a mile or a mile apart. It is related as a fact that "movers" would frequently travel hard each day for three days in succession and put up at the same "tavern" each night. It was called "Black Swamp" because the soil was l)lack, and it was exceedingly difficult to ]iass through it, because this black soil, or loam, was of great depth and thoroughly impregnated with lime, forming a tough, waxy mud which would adhere to the wheels of wagons with great tenacity.

But things have changed, and that which years ago was regarded as a great curse, is to-day esteemed the greatest l)lessing. Clearing up the land and ditching it, ha? redeemed the "Black Swam|»," and tlie soil to-day is unsurpassed for ])roduetivcuess. It is easily tilled and yields tlic largest crops of grain and the best samples of fruits. The "Black Swamp" farmers see no evidences of the once dreaded "Swamp," except in the deep, rich, black loam into which their plows sink and which yields such abundant returns for the husbandman's labors. Artificial drainage has accomplished what natural drainage has failed to effect, and the "Black Swamp" to-day, where properly under-drained and provided with ditches, will stand a drought or a flood better than any other section of Ohio. The land is much stronger than it possibly could have been but for the level surface of the earth, which gave it the appearance of a vast "Black Swamp."

Hull'S Surrender

It was late in May, 1812, when General Hull arrived at our camp at Dayton, and Governor Meigs relinquished command. A few days after we were on the march for Detroit. The road was a difficult one to travel, but by the aid of efficient guides, and the protection of Divine Providence we arrived safely at our destination, after much suffering and many stoppages on the way. For nearly two months after our arrival, we engaged in the performance of no extraordinary military duty the general routine of camp life being the order from day to day. In August the British and Indians arrived, and soon after the scene occurred which produced such indignation at the time, and about which histories do not agree. My company, belonging to Cass' regiment, was surrendered with all the Ohio volunteers. Miller's regulars, and a large force of militia. I shall never forget the scenes which then transpired. My opinion of General Hull's conduct, formed at the time (and events since have not changed it) was, that General Hull was an imbecile - not a traitor or a coward but an imbecile, caused by the excessive use of ardent spirits. He was a constant and heavy drinker. On the day before the surrender, his son, Captain Abraham F. Hull, came among my men in a beastly state of intoxication. On the day of the surrender I saw General Hull frequently. His face about the chin and mouth was covered with tobacco Juice, and I thought, in common with other officers, that the General was under the influence of liquor. His personal appearance indicated that he had been drinking. The general was surrounded, in camp by a military family, the members of which were fond of high living, wines, liquors, etc. I know us poor volunteers wondered how they could keep up such luxuries, but our surgeon relieved my mind by informing me one day that Hull's officers drew all the liquors from the hospital stores, on continued com- ])laint of illness, Hidl's surgeon (one of the party) certifying to the requisitions. When the news of the surrender was known to the troops, they were scarcely able to restrain their indignation. Hundreds of horrible oaths and threats ascended, whicli I hope has not been set down by the "Recording Angel." Mc- Arthur broke his sword, as did other officers. General Hull was repeatedly insulted to his face, and soon hid himself away. The members of his military family, especially the General's son Abraham, received some pretty tall abuse from us Ohioans. After the surrender and before the enemy had entered, many officers, myself among the number, implored Colonel Fii)(ll;iv to take command of the

AiiK'ric-aii forces, ami resist tlie enem}', but hr declined. (_*olonel Jas. Miller was importuned the same as Findlay, but lie was unwilling to assume the responsibilit}', saying- as near as I can recollect, "Matters have gone too far, but had General Hull signified to me his intention of surrendering, I would have assumed command, and defended the fort to the last." ^lilk'r would liavc done so and so would McAi-tluu' had he heeji in the fort.

Some littli' tini(^ affei- Hull had ordered the white flag, August 16, 1812, Colonel Isaac Brock, the British commander, entered the fort attended bv his staff and several Indian chiefs. The American troops were ordered to the parade ground and there piled up their muskets, swords. [)islols, knives, cartridge boxes, etc. A heavy guard was placed over us, and we were then sent to the "citadel" where we were kept until released on parole. Hull and the regular officers were sent to Quehec.

A Madman'S Frenzy

IX the old Pcrrysburg jail when the insane patients of Wood county were confined in it, a stalwart middle-aged num with dark hair and beard was confined in the first cell near the entry to the crazy department, and few who ever saw him in his crazy frenzy with that demoniac expression of the eye which at times seemed to emit fire while his mouth was choaked with foam, will have forgotten it. He was one of the most dangerous men ever put under lock and key. When in a frenzy his ' rage knew no bounds and his strength seemed almost superhuman and he exerted both to the direst extent on any obji'ct willii)! his grasp.

On (jue occasion he dragged a young dog through the bars of the cell door, crushed its head on the l)rick floor and licked up the blood. C. C. Baird, who was then Deputy Sheriff and jailer, assisted by the best man he could select, undertook the dangerous job of entering his cell. iMr. Baird sot his head seriously hurt with an iron vessel with which Cross assailed them, roaring the meanwliiU' like a lion.

At another time he got a new hat belonging to another patient, in his cell and refust'd to let it be taken out. It took the strength of two men to force the door open which he held with all his strength, until of a sudden he let loose when both came i}i nearly falling on their knees. Cross instantly grappled one of the men, pushing him over the iron bedstead against the wa|l while the other seized hold of the mad nuin's throat with an iron grip. His eyes ]irotruded from their sockets and his tongue from his mouth, and his face grow bhu-k l)efore he released his grasp on the man, which he finally did citinpletely exhausted, after which he was docile as was iuAai-iablv the case when overiiowered.

Cross seemed to pass through three stages or paroxysms of insanity. During the first he was ferocious, noisy and dangei'ous, sleepless and moving nearly all the time like a caged bt'ast, muttering constantly to himself, more especially repeating in a disconnected way a portion of the multi])lication fable, but no matter what the inimbers multiplied he always got around to the same product, 27. He dwelt especially on numbers 9 and 27. During this time he ate nothing.

The Harrison Well

and these spells lasted sometimes for a number of days. At such times he would break all the glass from the window if he could get a stick to reach through the bars, and push his bedding out no matter how cold the weather.

The next stage was a long, almost deathlike sleep, from which it was nearly impossible to arouse him. Then followed a wakeful stupor in which he was sullen and cross, and in which he remained for some time, and during which time he had a ravenous appetite. From this he would come to his natural self, in which he was agreeable, talkative, and a pitiful being to behold. His pale, emaciated, imploring look would excite sympathy in the coldest heart. At such times he was frequently allowed to spend an hour or so in the open air in a back yard inclosed by a high fence. This of course was somewhat risky, as his spells of frenzy did not recur regularly. One afternoon Mr. Baird requested him to come in, which ordinarily he did with the submissiveness of a child, but this time he told Baird to go to h - 1. Mr. Baird was powerless to compel him to do so, nor dare he leave a moment for the safety of his family. Cross was already frothing at the mouth. In the dungeon part of the jail among the prisoners was a powerfully built Irishman

Charged with robbery. Baird closed the front doors and called Shady out. Cross closed in with him the moment he came into the yard. It was the struggle between two giants. Cross was, before his troubles and disease, the best wrestler in Wood county, and was struggling with all the fury and wild energy of a mad man. Shady, who was not a whit his inferior in size or strength, was nerved by the hideous appearance of his antagonist. After a terrific struggle of some minutes, Cross threw Shady, but the Irishman proved stronger when down than on his feet even, and turned Cross

The cause of his insanity is something of a mystery as is usually the case. About 30 years before he was a hale, hearty young man and we believe in the employ of E. W. Kelly, on his farm near Millgrove and not far from where the Cross people lived. It was thought that he injured himself while wrestling one night at a spelling school. He was

Where he was the terror of the institution, and from which place he was sent back to Wood county as incurable, and was confined in a cell in jail from the time of Sheriff: Guyer's term until the establishment of the Wood county infirmary, to which he was removed in 1867. Here he was kept in the same manner until the Northwestern Asylum near Toledo was established, when he was removed there and put under care of Dr. Wright, who sent him out a well man. And he has been back to visit some of his relatives, and is now at work in Michigan, or perhaps at the Asylum, for wages.

Wright, we hear, discovered the cause of his insanity to be in the derangement of his stomach, and by watching closely the approach of his paroxysms and administering powerful cathartics followed by other treatment, succeeded in breaking the force of his attacks until he finally showed no further bad symptoms. This would seem to be strong proof of the astonishing and sympathetic relation of the brain and stomach, and is one of the most remarkable recoveries we have ever heard of.

In his 20 years of prison life, confinement, exposure and abuse of health and the reversal of all laws of health, he had endured that which would have killed 99 men in every hundred. He is to-day to all appearances, a well man of sound mind. - From Evers' Log Cabin Sketches.

Noted Bear Hunt

1^' the Sontiiid in 1881, Wm. E. Carothers gives an interesting account of a strenuous bear bunt in December, 1854, with Jim RoAvLmd. In three days they had captured and killed two bears weighing over 400 pounds each. After letting their dogs rest a day, they started on the last day's hunt which is thus described l)y Carothers:

We started early in the morning, and for a time the dogs left iis far in the rear, 1)ut we could discover traces of frequent fierce conflicts, and a little after noon -the dogs Avere crowding the game hard. The bear's feet Ave re so torn and lacerated on the bottoms, that he left blood in every track. We Avere now approaching the Jackson prairie or swamp, the skirts of Avhicb Avere covered with Avind-fall and dense brush and thickets, all bent over every Avhich Avay by the lodged snoAv. Into this old bruin plunged. It Avas next to impossible for a man to get through this place. When Ave at last reached the o]X'n space be- Aond wt' canu' in full view of the dogs and game in a savage contest. Bruin Avas on a log that lay up from the ground, mopping and striking at the dogs, Avhicli Ave re closed up in a circle all around him. It Avas one of the most Avild, exciting, sporting scenes a hunter could Avish to see. The dogs would either pull the bear off the log or cause him to jump from it, Avhen they Avould all attack him and the snoAV would fly in clouds. The fierce groAA'ls and groans of rage of the bear could be heard above the din raised l»y the dogs, Avhich Avas deafening.

rally and l)roke from his blood-thirsty tormentors, hut within a fcAV rods had again taken to a log. Rowland and I liad rushed up Avith all possible haste. - lim. Avho Avas Avatching Avith great anxiety, expecting every moment to see a dog killed, suddenly stopped and leveled his rifle, and Ave saw the bear tmnble off to the far side of the log. Every dog bounced him instantly. Jim began reloading; l)ut Avhat was our consternation when Ave heard one of the dogs giving a terrible cry of distress and saw the shaggy, bhu'k l)east standing on his hind legs, with one of the best dogs in his deadly end)race, Avhile with one paw he was beating and cri^ipling the dogs Avith frightful ferocity. I rushed up within feet unnoticed by the bear, and shot liim in the head, killing him instantly. The dogs all laid hold of the beast with terrible vengeance and fully satiated their wrath for all the trouble and cuffs and bites they had suffered. I took off my hat and yelled loud and long, and ne\'er felt better in my life; and though Ibe weatlier was pretty cold I seemed to be faii'ly meliing and .the steam rose from my liead in wreatlis bigb as the tri'e tops.

We were, dogs and all, pretty Avell used up: tbe poor ])rutes lay doAvn and licked tbeir bbxHiy feet, and had hard work to get bome : they would lay down and whin<' and wag their tails as if in the greatest distress. This bear Avas a fine tliree-year-old, and Aveiglied about 400 pounds.

Althougli I have done some hunting ' since, that Avas my last bear hunt and it Avas about the last of RoAvland's hunting. He told me years after that he never got over the effects of that chase - that it Avas more than flesh and bone could endure. Jim was almost a man of iron. Closely knit, compact, largeboned, l)road-chested, actiA'e as a deer, strong and with an endurance in his vounger davs almost incredible, he had few tMjuals as a woodsman aiul hunter; lorts to the verv IV'wcst and [)lainest. 1 can now tliink of one otlier, his brother, '1 he cares incident to a hixurions state Bob Kowhnid. oT living, the turmoil of l)nsiness, the Providence seemed to liavr allot te(l frivolities of fashion, the struggle for soeach man bis proper sphere in the great cial supi-emacy, wvw unknown to those universe, and tliis class of men - tbe early })i()neers. Tbcy lived more for pioneers of the Black Swamp, bravely eacb otlier tliau people do now. but tbcv and faithfully fultilled. their mission. were only llie loiT-i-uniiers of a liigber The law-of necessitv gauged, all their com- civilization.

A Ghastly Crime

OX the night of the lUth of October, 1881, Carl Bach, a farmer of Clifton township, most savagely murdered his wife, which was the culmination of a long period of domestic discord. On the morning of the 11th, the murderer \oluntarily walked to Bowling Green and surrendered himself to the sheriff.

The Sentinel of October 1"2, 188;], says when the coroner reached the scene of the murder, in the middle of the room in a pool of 1)1 ood, lay the body of a woman, covered with a sheet. The iloor, walls and ceiling were smeared and bespattered with l)lood ; giblets of liesli, tufts of hair, brains and lingers were scattered over the floor.

On lifting the bloody sheet from the body the sight was still more shocking. The back part of the woman's head was all hacked to a jelly. The left shoulder had been nearly severed by one terrific Idow. The side of the head was cut open from the mouth back. An arm was nearly cut off and several fingers were severed on one of the hands. Such a horrible butchery it would be hard to paint in the imagination. The woman when llrst attacked lay in bed with her six-year-old child, and to her struo-gles to avoid the inurderous blows and get free, is partly attributable liei- strangely mangled condition, and tbe blood marks of her bands on tbe wall. She was doubtless dead befcu'e the infuriate(l murdei'iT ceased hacking her body.

With his thi-ee children, aged 1:1. 1 I and (i years, lie sle])t until iiinrning in an adjoining room and very early in the morning he took the children to the house of a neighbor, Mr. Ileinzie, about a mile distant. He told what he had done - that he had killed his wife and that he must go to Bowling (ireen and give himself u}). and requested Mr. Heinzie to take care of the children aiul left with him also a sum of nioni'y for the burial of his wife. Mr. Fleiiizie was startled at his strange conduct and disl)elieved his shocking story, but told some of the neigbliors and togethei' they went to the house and found their woi'sl fears more than confirmed.

On the .-)th of February. ISS'.'. Bach was indicted for wilful murdei". The trial took place in .hme, ISS-j. and on the Kith of that month he was found guilty as charged, and sentenced to be hanged October 13, 1882.

Bach's counsel prepared a bill of exceptions and a short time prior to the time set foi- the execution, filed a motion in tbe Supreme court for leave to file a petition in error. The motion being argued was sustained by the court and a stay of ])rocwdings granted until the hearing of tlu' petition at the January term 188:!. at which time the judii'inent of the court of Common Pleas was reversed for the reason that said court erred in empanelling the jury. The cause was thereupon remanded for a new trial and at the February term, 1833, of Wood Common Pleas, it was ordered to be again placed on the trial docket of said court, and assigned for trial at the May term thereof, viz: on the 11th day of June, 1883, when the second trial began, and on the 27th of that month the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. He was then sentenced, and on the 12th day of October, 1883, Carl Bach paid the extreme penalty of his crime, being the second and last murderer hanged in Wood county.

A Strange Story

A NUMBER of years ago the Sentinel related an incident regarding an intelligent, plainly dressed woman, above the middle age, who arrived from an eastern state and stopped at one of the Bowling Green hotels. She looked up a livery man and after making some inquiries about prices, she made cautious inquiry for a family whose name need not be given. The livery man knew several persons of that name in the south part of the county, and together they started, and after some inquiry found the man for whom she searched. The balance of the story as reluctantly told by the lady herself is this: Thirty-six years before that time, when she was a child six or seven years old, she lived with her father and mother on a beautiful stream beyond the Alleghanies. She had several brothers and sisters, but she was the favorite of her father. A dark cloud and domestic unhappiness came over the household and her father fled and became lost to his family entirely. The mother obtained a divorce and married again. The children grew up and married one after another, and finally the subject of this sketch became a widow. Some months before her arrival she accidentally heard of a man of the same name as her long lost father, and from some circumstance related she was more than half convinced that it must be he and that he lived in Wood county, Ohio. With a woman's curiosity and tenacity of purpL<se she resolved to go and search for him.

As she drove along the road in the vicinity of where he lived on a farm less than ten miles from this place, she met a couple of men of whom she made inquiry. One of them answered to the name of the man she sought. The man gazed at her intently for some time. Perhaps he saw in her face something familiar. Perhaps she resembled her mother, once his wife. She nervously disclosed to him a part of her errand, when he walked around the carriage to the side where she sat and extending his hand said, "Sarah Jane, I am your lost father." We will not attempt to describe the meeting of this long separated father and daughter, but conclude after stating the fact that the old man had lived in Wood county a number of years, and had eleven sons and daughters, most of them married and settled. He was then living with his third wife, the mother of his second set of children having died some 3^ears before. Wife number one was still living in comfortable circumstances and perhaps ignorant of the whereabouts or fate of her long ago forijotten husband.

Indian Dances

WILLIAM EWING was especially recognized among the Indians as one of their white friends or advisers and has settled many of their disputes. He says he has probably attended as many as a hundred Indian dances in his time. Their dances were of two characters, one called "Manatoo" a religious dance, and the other their war dance. Their "Manatoos"' would be held at their camp, at which six or eight hundred Indians would sometimes assemble, dressed in their finest costumes and wearing their brightest jewelry. They would build what might be called a bower, about 30 by 60 feet in size, for the occasion, with center posts, around which the Indians would travel in procession repeating a chant and going through all sorts of antics; one Indian would sit in the center and beat a "one-headed drum," made by stretching a skin over a cut from a hollow log. The medicine man was always a prominent guest, always dressed in the finest furs and carried a wampum belt in his hand. He traveled in an opposite direction to the rest and would occasionally single out a favorite dancer at whom he would point his wampum, and who would drop to the ground and again rise and join the dance after receiving a blessing from the medicine man.

Ewing once attended a war dance at a camp at the mouth of Tontogany creek, the occasion being a little local difficulty. Two young Indians named Nauquezike and Pamquauk, rivals, got into difficulty at the dance over a young squaw, and Nauquezike killed Pamquauk by stabbing him with a knife.

Ewing relates that himself and another young man once attended a dance with two bright young belles of their neighborhood and were invited to join in the services, which invitation they accepted. Swing's lady became so badly frightened at the maneuvers of the Indians when about half way round the bower, that she "broke" and ran as though for her life. The Indians were so amused at her discomforture that all joined in a hearty demonstration of mirth, which frightened her still more and she nearly went into spasms, and left, resolving that she would never attend another Indian ball.

A Sad Chapter

THE Sentinel of March 23, 1882, contains one of the saddest chapters probably in the annals of Wood county, written by Mr. C. W. Evers, who made a thorough investigation of all the circumstances connected with the tragedy. Tiie account follows: near the Plain church, four miles west of Bowling Green, Fanny Deering, a young lady of 27, cultured and intelligent, shot herself with a revolver. This is the legal verdict.

But is there another, darker, more awful verdict in this case? Was the trembling hand that held the pistol to the beating heart of Fanny Deering and pulled the fatal trigger the only hand raised against her life ? Are there others who, at the final judgment, must be held responsible for her blood?

J. K. Deering, the father of Fanny, was of a good, respectable family in Maine, and was given a college education and put into the ministry. At a synod meeting he met an educated young lady and an accomplished musician and after a short acquaintance, married her. Their life was not happy; he was a poor excuse of a husband, scarcely able to provide for himself, let alone a family, while she was proud-spirited and ambitious. They continued man and wife until five children had been born to them, when a decree of divorce on the grounds of incompatibility was given them by the court, and Deering kept the oldest child, Fanny, then thirteen or fourteen ^ears old.

Fanny had, in the meantime, the advantages of schools and was a very bright, apt child. Soon after, Deering took Fanny and went to Michigan where one of his sisters lived, and where Fanny soon after taught school, her father, as she said, appropriating most of her wages, which was almost a necessity to him, as he seemed incapable of maintaining himself in any degree of respectability. He seems to have been too jiroud and impractical or lazy to work and was not a success as a preacher.

Fanny had a great adaptability and love for music, and after a time entered Oberlin College, and after two years of self denial and deprivation, during which time she taught, she graduated in the Conservatory of Music. Through her proficiency and adaptability as a teacher, good address and good recommends, she had no trouble in securing employment, and througli the advice of a classmate she went to Toledo and found profitable patrons in some of the best- families in the city, and was organist in one of the city missions, . also a beloved teacher in

"I visited them (Fanny and her father, who kept house in a rented room. - Ed.) often, and never detected any signs of neglect or indifference to the needs or comforts of her father on the part of Miss Deering, whom I have always given credit for being a most dutiful daughter, continually laboring far beyond her strength, under great disadvantage of delicate health and other unfavorable conditions. 1 am convinced that if she had been less unselfish and devoted to his interests, she would to-day be far better off in health and pocket than she now is.

"From a close and friendly intercourse with Miss Deering, extending over nearly eight years, I can truly say that I believe her to be truthful and worthy of the respect and confidence of all whom she may meet."

"I know that previous to the marriage of her father to his present wife, she (Fanny) cared for and supported her father by her own labor, when physically, he was much better able to do it than she was to do it for him.

"Miss Deering has been a member of my family for several months and I know her to be truthful and honest to the last farthing. I also know her character to be spotless and her conduct without reproach."

These are the disinterested testimonials of Christian people and we produce them to silence the tongue of calumny put in motion by Deering or some of liis apologists, that Fanny was undutiful.

quarrelsome, bad disposition, etc. All who knew her speak of her as a kind, sympathetic, sweet dispositioned girl. She seems to have mostly supported her father for a time until about 1876, when he married a woman at Perrysburg, who now became her step mother and borrowed Fanny's money as fast as she earned it. Fanny still taught music and practiced the greatest economy and self denial, going on foot, lame as she was, from house to house to visit her pupils rather than pay street car fare, in order that she might accumulate a little sum of money with which she could visit Germany and graduate in music, which was the one great aim and ambition of her life. The energy of her whole being centered in this one object. She took lessons in the German language and studied nights until her eye sight began to fail and she had to wear eye glasses. She progressed rapidly and soon she could read and write and converse in German. Thus it Avas she toiled on night and day that she might fulfill her musical aml)ition.

In the meantime her step mother continued to borrow her money giving notes therefor and assuring her that it would be forthcoming when she got ready to go to Germany. She represented, that she had an abundance of property and it was thrice secured. The sum now amounted to over $1,400 and Fanny had set a time to go, notifying her step mother, who wrote her the money would be all ready. Music pupils were dismissed, business matters arranged and she was ready to depart.

But what was the poor girl's chagrin and disappointment when she called for her money and was told there would be a little delay in getting it. There was no help for it and she had to wait; the date was fixed anew when she could get it and also a new date for the journey.

'i'liat time came but still no money - nothing but promises. It was about this time she heard the further unpleasant fact that her step mother was so fixed financially that the money was not collectible l)y law and that there was but a remote possibility of her ever getting it at all.

This was a crvishing blow to Fanny; all her Ijright anticipations dashed to naught - all her days and nights of toil and privation - broken health - tired body and mind all endured in vain - nothing hut black disappointment.

This diseouragenieni and her naturally frail condition of health, together with the mental strain, affected her health so that she did not feel able to teach. In this condition she went sometime last July to her father's at the Plain parsonage four miles west of this place where Dee ring had preached for two or three Aoars past.

She thought to rest, regain her health and perhaps plead with her step mother to get her at least a part of her money, which Fanny fully believed she could l)ay if she would. She soon began to realize that she was none too welcome e\en in lier own father's house. They had her money but did not care to be troubled with her presence. From coolness of treatment came bitter words, until at last Fanny received cniel blows and A\as driven from her father's roof, her trunks put in the wagon shed and the doors locked and even nailed against her and she was told they would not pay lier.

To get her away peaceably her father engaged her board at a near neighbor's, ^Ir. Lowes, for a short time, but Fanny at last had to become responsible for the payment. This cruel treatment on the . part of her father, seemed to crush her proud spirit and she seemed heart broken, blatters went on in tliis wav until Jan-

On January 13, she went in desperation to her father's again, and went to a chamber room she had been in the habit of occupying, and some time later it was noised among the near neighbors that she was very sick and dying. She had taken laudanum enough to kill two persons, and after three days of careful nursing and care she was restored, although for a time it was supposed she was past help.

She had made all preparations for death, and among the papers left, sealed and addressed to a neighbor woman, was one addressed to her step mother. It shows the extent of her sufferings for the deep wrong that she felt had been done her, and is sufficient to draw tears from a cast-iron monument. It may be proper to say here that the lady never sent the letter to the step mother.

* * "You knew that I had denied myself of all that a girl and woman craves, and worked myself all but to death to gain just one chance, and yet you deliberately robbed me of the fruit of seven years' toil for that one object. You snatched my last, only hope from me, and now you tell me you have done nothing you regret or would have done differently ! Oh, what can you be made of ? Though you knew that my strength was Ijroken and worn out in labor to support YOU and your husband, that you had torn away my last hope and motive for life, and left me broken-hearted and despairing, yet, not content with refusing me the barest necessities of life, you pursued me with a relentless brutality. You knowingly goaded me on to desperation and death by every means your two natures could jointly devise. Night after night have I heard you two conjure upon ways and means to torment and injure something should, be done to prevent her taking her own life but he made a cold, unfeeling reply and he even refused to build a fire to warm the room where she lay, and the ladies who were trying to save her life were so uncomfortable that they could not remain long in the room at one time. He seemed to feel indifferent.

After this, Fanny was treated harsher than before. ^Vhen she got well enough and went back to Lowe's near by, the doors at the parsonage were kept constantly locked and nailed up. Her trunks were out in the shed and when any one knocked at the door Deering or his wife first looked out of the window to see who was there.

The Thursday previous to her death Mrs. Deering had invited a few members of the church society to spend the evening. Each one noticed as they came in that the door was locked behind them. Later in the evening as they sat talking, the back door opened quietly and who should enter but Fanny looking like a hunted deer. She was greeted cordially by the guests, but hardly a look of recognition did she receive from her step mother, who, the moment of the girl's entry, stared at her with a look of spasmodic agitation. Deering could conceal his feelings better and nodded a good evening. No one asked Fanny to a seat or to take off her hat. All the time Fanny was there Mrs. Deering seemed to tremble from head to foot with excitement and agitation.

Did that woman, Mrs. Deering, know at that time what Fanny came there for? She acted as if she did. She knew that Fanny carried, and had carried for weeks, a pistol with her in a little box. The neighbors had noticed that box.

Mrs. Deering certainly knew what was in that box and must have guessed pretty certainly what it was for; she did not fear violence on herself or Deering as will be seen by an incident farther on. No ; in onr belief she feared the girl wanted to take her life, and, of course, did not wish to have it happen in her house. If she thought poor, friendless, robbed Fanny was on the verge of suicide - we say if she thought so - Deering must have shared her suspicion. And if they thought so, did they care ? Did they realize what it was that was driving the broken-hearted being on to desperation? - that she knew they were fixing to go to Minnesota soon, and that her father, whose slave she had been and who was her only natural friend and protector on earth, liad inhumanly steeled, his heart and hand against her, that his wife had got all her hard, hard earnings, and that lanir. In'oken in heart and pennik^ss. this j)roud-spirite(l, anilntious girl was to be turned adrift on the world alone, to struggle on as best she could or go to the poor house.

If tliey did tliink of these things then their sins will be greater, for instead of offering Ijalm to her bleeding heart she was subjected to further degrading, cruel, inlnnnan treatment - to blows, like a brute. We relate an incident as giving a probable clue to the life the girl had been subjected to while under her father's roof and from the woman who had taken her money from her. It was not enough that the food was hidden from her, that she was denied fire to make her comfortable - she was beaten, beaten like a brute, for the most trivial offense.

The Saturday before Fannx's death Mrs. Carr called at the parsonage to spend an hour, and while there Fanny asked her if she was fond of hickory nuts. She went and brought some, and, finding nothing to crack them on, she thoughtlessly cracked one or two on the heavy stove hearth. Without a word of warning the step mother sprang like a tigress from her chair at the sewing machine, a few yards away, and beat Fanny about the head brutally, and finally knocked her over so she fell in her visitor's lap, and the shameful scene ended, Mrs. Deering saying: "I'll teach you to crack nuts on my stove hearth."

The following Monday morning the step mother left for Elmore because, as is l)elieved by many that she was, as we hinted previously, apprehensive of what would happen and left. The next day, Tuesday,

Shot through the heart b}- her own hand. Al)out the middle of the forenoon Mr. (*arr, who was engaged on his place adjoining the parsonage, happened to look up from his work and saw Fanny's face at the window, where she seemed to be kneeling, whether in the attitude of prayer or not he did not know. A short time after, he heard a pistol shot, but not very distinctly, to which he paid but little attention, thinking it some boys in the road beyond the house. That was the last time Fanny was seen alive and was the last time she gazed on the light of day or on an unkind world which she bade a last farewell.

Mr. Carr' says her pale, sad face as he saw it through the window glass is, in the light of what followed, engraven on his memory like an image, never to be effaced by time.

She had risen in the morning, combed her hair, and attired herself neatly, having the previous evening written to several intimate friends and given minute directions as to the disposition of her personal effects, also of her body.

One of these letters, to Mrs. Harvey Condit, which begins with allusions to another friend, Mrs. Prentice, and which was published in the Toledo Bee, is as follows : it is nocessarv. tShe and many others will mourn my said error - as they will call it - 1)iit they must remember that one cannot judge correctly of a person's error unU'ss ihey are familiar with his imderstanding. They would feel differently if they knew the greatest and best part of me. All joy and hope was dead long ago.

"It is better tliat the fragment left, go with the rest. I cannot live without the love and tenderness that may never be mine. ]f I could have attained my ambition and fitted myself for some position of usefulness that I could fill, it might - probably would - have been very different; but now I only know enough to be a drudge all my days, and I have no heart or strength to drudge, even if there were any use in it.

"I could never go into the world again to endure and contend with all a lonely woman must. I have for years - ages it seems - felt that some clay it must come to this, but could not' give up till I came here. This summer has showed me more plainly wliat I already knew - that there was nothing else for me. God only knows how desperate and bitter the struggle has been, and I am tired to death. My furniture is willed to a friend who will not care for my stove I think. * * *

"i should be so glad to help dear Mrs. Carr. If I had it to do again I would distribute my few things differently than I have, Init I can not change without more botlier than it is really worth, for I have but little for any one. When you see Minnie Minton, give her my love, and tell her I look eagerly for a letter from her until the day I die. I am so disappointed not to hear from her again. Her friendship and sympathy have been much to me. The gold pin I spoke of giving her I have given to another friend for whom I seemed to have nothing else. Minnie will have enough to remind her of me.

"I thought of giving some books to Ben (Minton) but as I haven't very many it seems best that they should go together. Please give the German pajx'rs to Mrs. Prentice. * * * *

"Your company has lightened and ciieered many sad hours for me. I owe }ou much. I can make no return, but I am grateful for all the kindness and ^^ynij)atliy I have received here. Farewell. "F. L. Deering."

"I beg you to do what you can to keep the manner of my death a secret, as far as may be. I believe you will do this for my sake. I never intended that any one should know about it wdien I used to think about it, but it cannot be helped now. I realize and feel the disgrace as keenly as anybody possibly could,"

- * * "You are, undoubtedly, the one person living who hid his daughter's food in the house, even to hickorynuts and walnuts picked by her, and told her you begrudged her every mouthful she ate, after her whole life had been sacrificed to your selfishness. Live to remember that you did all this, and infinitely more, to me the day before I died; that you forced me to spend my last days on earth in hunger and wretchedness. The time will come when this will be impressed on you, but not in this world. Eemember that one sign of honor or uprightness, one fatherly look even, Avould have saved me from this. When I was sick here I heard you say I ought to be pounded half to death, and you wished you could pound me to death. You have killed me by inches. Are you satisfied?"

Who is to blame, and how far the responsibility for the dead, rests on the living the reader must judge. We have no comments further than to say that Fanny was shamefully wronged by her father and step mother, and they can render to the public and to God to whom they must answer, no adequate justification.

We know it may be said that Fanny was of age and had no legal claim for a home and support from her father; grant this to be all true. Yet she was his child, sick and homeless, made so by efforts to support him and help him and if the embers of human sympathy had not been dried and burned up in his heart he would have shared the last crust of bread with her instead of turning her away.

And his wife, what shall be said of her? Had she dealt even as one despised Jew deals with another, given Fanny the money she had taken from her, Fanny Deeriiig would today lie alive, a happy, useful woman.

with trumped up mortgages to her sons in order to prevent the collection of this money which she grudged to see the girl get. As to the truth of this we do not pretend to know or say. We are simply relating this to show the influences that worked on the unfortunate girl's mind. That she was insane or ever showed the least symptom of shattered reason the neighbors do not believe. They say it is a trumped up story to break the force of damning sentiment, which lies against Deering, justly or unjustly.

Doubtless the girl had brooded over her disappointment, her ill treatment and desertion till it affected her already shattered health and became a constant sorrow and burden which she could not shake off. She was kind and gentle to all, hut especially to children and aged peojilc, and there apj^ears to be not a person who has ever associated with her but what loves and respects her, except her father and step mother, who deliberately drove her to despair.

The sentiment in the community there since the tragedy has been very strong against Deering and his wife and on Saturday night a Ku Klux crowd visited his house but found no occupants. He had prudently absented himself, but there were plenty of signs left tliat the party was well supplied with tar and feathers.

The Loomis Murder

ON May 14, 1886, at the Columbus penitentiary, Arthur J. Grover paid the extreme penalty of the law, by hanging for the murder of Granville G. Loomis. From the Wood Countv Sentinel of May 16, 1886, the following accotint of the murder is condensed :

Saturday afternoon, about 2 o'clock May 9, 1885, a man was found lying dead in a pasture lot about half a mile northeast of the Empire House, Stony Eidge, Wood county. Every indication showed that the man had l)een most foully and deliberately murdered. His body lay on the sod at full length, his right leg crossed over his left, his hands folded over his breast, and his head resting on a rock cropping out of the surface of the ground. The face and head were mangled beyond recognition, evidently for the purpose of preventing identitication. A large boulder weighing over twenty pounds was on the ground near by, on which there were traces of blood and hair. With this rock the mutilation had evidently been accomplished.

The body was conveyed, to the Empire House and the clothing all removed in search of some clue that would lead to identification. The stockings were peculiar in their construction, and on each one was discovered a strip of white cloth about two inches in length, on which was printed with a stencil the name of "Gr. G. Loomis." This was the single clue that led eventually to the discovery of the murderer.