Huntington County, Indiana - Chapter 19: Miscellaneous History, 1914

Old Pioneers - John Kenower - Emanuel Yahne - William Delvin - Jacob Souers - A Few Reminiscences - An Old Landmark - Indian Arithmetic - How Silver Creek Got Its Name - A Snake Story - Riot at Andrews - White Caps - Some Historic Storms - Floods - Disastrous Fires - Col. Cyrus E. Briant - A Postoffice Rob¬ bery - Tar and Feathers.

It is a common occurrence, when an old resident dies, for the news¬ papers to publish an obituary notice under the headline: "Another Pioneer Gone." This is frequently a misnomer. There are, and always will he, old settlers, measured by the number of years they have lived in the community, but the real pioneers are like the proverbial angels' visits - "few and far between."

Webster's definition of a pioneer is: "One who goes before, as into the wilderness, preparing the way for others to follow." If this definition be accepted, how many are there who are entitled to be called pioneers ? Among the oldest residents of the county there are very few who came here in time to play much of a part in ' ' preparing the way for others to follow," and there are probably fewer than half a score of men in the county who can honestly claim recognition as pioneers. Of this little handful, probably the best known is John Kenower, of the City of Huntington.

Mr. Kenower was born in 1820 and came to the Town of Huntington early in the year 1841, and a little while before he had attained to his majority. At that time there were but fourteen families living in the town. These were the families of Martin Roche, David Osborne, William G. Johnson, Patrick McCarty, John McClelland, J. E. Taylor, William Delvin, Dr. F. W. Sawyer, Chelsea Crandal, Elias Murray, Thomas Doyle, Mrs. Johnson (widow of Daniel), Julius Murry and James Gilleese. Shortly after his arrival Air. Kenower found employ¬ ment with Harmon J. Betts, who came at the same time, receiving $25 per month and board for his services. Although without money, he had confidence in the future of Huntington and bought the lot on West State Street, upon which the American Hotel was afterward built, going in debt for it. This lot he afterward sold at a profit to Charles Taylor and "got a little start in the world," as he has been heard to express it, after which he engaged in carpenter work. Some of the older buildings in Huntington bear evidence of his handiwork. In 1847 he started a cabinet shop and later became interested in the saw-mill and lumber business, with which he remained con¬ nected during his active business career. He was one of the committee that built the old Baptist church, the first Protestant church in Hunt¬ ington, and has been a member of the congregation ever since it was founded. In 1842 Mr. Kenower married Miss Lucy, daughter of Hugh Montgomery, but she lived only eighteen months after their marriage. Miss Flora M. Binnager became his wife in 1847, but died fifteen months later, and on April 15, 1851, he married Miss Sarah Purviance, who traveled life's highway as his helpmate for more than half a century, or until her death on January 14, 1904. Always in favor of improvement, Mr. Kenower was the first president of the Huntington & Mount Etna Gravel Road Company, and he has been identified with nearly every movement for the material or moral uplift of Huntington and her peo¬ ple. Still living, at the age of ninety-four years, with faculties unim¬ paired, he can recount many interesting experiences of "ye olden time." and is really and truly a pioneer.

Emanuel Yahne, of Jackson Township, is another citizen of the county who can claim the distinction of being a pioneer. He was born in Stark County, Ohio, October 9, 1822, and came with his parents, Fred¬ erick A. and Mary Yahne, to Huntington County in 1840, six years after the county was organized. The family first located in Union Township, in Section 5, near the northwest corner, but about two years later removed to Jackson Township and established a home in the Cow Creek Valley, a short distance west of Roanoke. Emanuel was eighteen years of age when he came to the county and did a man's work in clearing ground and opening a farm. During the Civil war he served as a member of Com¬ pany E. Forty-seventh Indiana Infantry, and he was a member of Wil¬ liam McGinnis Post, No. 167, at Roanoke, until the organization was dis¬ banded. His father was at one time engaged in the mercantile business in the old Town of Mahon. Although past the age of four score years and ten, Mr. Yahne recalls with vivid distinctness incidents that occurred while Indians were still plentiful in Jackson Township and the settlers depended more upon their marksmanship with the rifle than upon their husbandry to provide fresh meat for their families.

family made the journey from Perry County, Ohio, with an ox team and covered wagon. At the time they arrived in Huntington there were only a few white families there, but there were plenty of Indians. Mr. Delvin remembers that when his mother looked out of the covered wagon and saw a large number of Indians watching their movements ' ' she was heart¬ broken and burst into tears." They slept in the wagon until a cabin could be made ready for the reception of the family. Their first home in Huntington County stood on the north side of Market Street, between Cherry and Jefferson, about where the Clayton building now stands. His father had two teams and worked on the canal. Owing to the scarcity of white children, little William made playmates of Indian boys and he is probably the only man now living in Huntington County who can speak the Miami dialect. He tells of how an Indian squaw taught him to swim by throwing him in deep water and forcing him, as he thought, to fight for his life. He did not realize that the squaw was keeping close watch upon his movements and stood ready to come to his relief if necessary to save him from drowning. Mr. Delvin is a nephew of that William Delvin who taught the first school in Huntington, and who was one of the first surveyors in the county.

A pioneer who recently "bade adieu to earthly cares" was Jacob Souers, one of the early settlers of Rock Creek Township. He was born on December 14, 1812, and first came to Huntington County in 1837, entering land not far from the little settlement of Plum Tree. After living many years in Rock Creek Township, he went to the City of Huntington to make his home with his daughter, Mrs. Frank King. On December 14, 1912, the one hundredth anniversary of his birth was celebrated by holding a meeting in one of the churches, at which he was present. On this occasion many interesting incidents of early days were recalled by old settlers present. Mr. Souers was fond of the pastime of fishing, and even when he was nearing the century mark in age one could find him, in pleasant weather, seated in some quiet nook along the Little River, with rod and line, luring the members of the finny tribe from their native element with his tempting bait. His death occurred in June, 1913.

In the chapter on Settlement and Organization mention is made of the custom of cutting wheat with the cradle in the early days. John Gibler, who died only a few years ago in Huntington, won the distinction of being the champion cradler in Huntington County. This fame he won without boast or challenge. His whetstone never rang out the "banter" on his scythe, but when the line of cradlers started across the field his powerful stroke would soon place him in a position to "cradle around" those in front of him, and when they reached the other end of the field he was almost certain to be in the lead. Mr. Gibler thought nothing of cutting six acres in a day, frequently he cut seven acres, and on one occasion, on good ground and in moderately heavy grain he cleaned up an 8-acre field. It must be remembered, however, that the 8-hour day was not then in vogue and a day 's work meant from the time the dew was off the wheat in the morning until sunset, or even a little later.

The truth of the old saying "Necessity is the mother of invention" was never better illustrated than in Union Township many years ago. A family named Slater settled in that township and in the family were several boys. The older boys possessed a violin, but Milton, the youngest son, was not permitted to handle it. His ambition was to become a fiddler, and being unable to raise the money to purchase a real fiddle, he decided to make one of his own.

At that time household utensils were not as easily obtained as in this day, and nearly every family raised gourds - some of the variety known as "fat gourds," which were used instead of crocks and jars for storing certain kinds of food stuffs, and other of the long-necked kind were used for drinking purposes. Milton selected a long-necked gourd, placed it between two boards about the right distance apart to form the thickness of a violin, and watched it carefully during its growth. Nature seemed to form a partnership with the lad, for the gourd matured perfectly. When it was thoroughly dry he extracted the seeds and pulp from the interior, fitted it with apron and bridge, hollowed out the long neck and adjusted keys for tuning the strings and found that the gourd fiddle would really make music. He was then like the old lady who fitted a wooden bottom in her kettle, as he was in a position where he need neither "borrow nor lend." On this gourd fiddle he learned such tunes as "Old Dan Tucker," "The Bowery Girls" and the "Irish Washerwoman" and was independent of his elder brothers.

In after years Milton Slater became a prominent jeweler in the City of Detroit, Michigan, but it is possible that he derived more real enjoy¬ ment from his gourd fiddle of his boyhood days than he ever did in the sale of the finest jewels that passed over his counter. It was not a Stradivarius, either in tone or appearance, but it represented the product of his own ingenuity and resourcefulness.

In these days, when poultry is shipped on fast freights, or dressed and transported in refrigerator cars, it may sound strange to tell of driv¬ ing turkeys to market. Yet, many years ago, before the advent of the railroad, it was a common thing for several farmers to join in driving their turkeys to some trading point. George W. Lawver, now living in Huntington, was once in the mercantile business in Miami County. He remembers distinctly how great droves of turkeys were driven for sev¬ eral miles to his establishment. Turkeys are good travelers and could be driven along a highway without much trouble. There was one draw¬ back about the custom, however, that was difficult to overcome. Toward the close of the day, if the road happened to run through or along the edge of a piece of woods, the turkeys would begin to look longingly up at the branches of the trees. Then one or two of the leaders would fly up to roost, others would quickly follow, and the turkey drive had to be post¬ poned until the next morning. What would some of the young people of 1914 think to see a great flock of turkeys pass along one of the highways on the way to market? Yet such was the custom when many of their fathers and mothers were children.

Another old custom that has passed was the political campaign in which county "rallies" were held, at which the townships in the county would vie with each other in trying to see which could send the largest and best equipped delegation. The big wagon, drawn by four horses and laden with little girls dressed in white, each wearing a sash or ribbon bearing the name of a state ; the uniformed club of young men mounted on horseback, or the company of young ladies all dressed alike to repre¬ sent the states of the Union ; the martial band, consisting of a fifer, one or two snared drums and a bass drum - sometimes referred to as the £ ' sheep¬ skin band;" the grand marshal, mounted upon a prancing steed with gorgeous scarf across his breast ; the decorated stand for the speakers in some grove, and the basket dinner that constituted part of the day's program would long linger in the memory of those who attended the " rally."

Sometimes the gathering would take the form of "pole raising," when the men would erect a tall pole, at the top of which would be a pennant bearing the names of the party's candidates for President and vice president. The democrats generally used hickory for their poles, out of respect for Andrew Jackson, whose sobriquet was "Old Hickory"; the whigs and republicans used ash or poplar, and there was a keen rivalry between the parties as to which could erect the tallest pole. Samuel J. Kilander, an old resident of Huntington, relates how he and a number of other republicans worked all day on July 4, 1860, in raising a Lincoln pole in front of the courthouse in Huntington. The pole was originally intended to be 175 feet in height, but it broke when an effort was made to raise it and a section of twenty-five feet had to be taken out. The day was far advanced when the 150 foot pole stood facing the public square, the pennant at the top waving defiance to political opponents, but the men went to their homes content with their efforts "to save the country." Mr. Kilander was for many years a justice of the peace. He is now eighty-four years of age and totally blind, but his mental faculties are still alert and his mind is a veritable storehouse of reminiscenses of early days in Huntington County.

On the tow-path of the old Wabash & Erie Canal, near the site of the old Village of Mahon and not far from the tracks of the Fort Wayne & Northern Indiana Traction Company, is a small store kept by Daniel Fusselman, or "Dan," as he is commonly called. It may not be generally known, even to those best acquainted with him, that his mother was a first cousin to the mother of John Wanamaker, the merchant prince of New York and Philadelphia and former postmaster-general of the United States. Dan never boasts of the relationship and the only thing in com¬ mon between them is that they are both engaged in the mercantile line, though Wanamaker 's stores are much larger and better known. Some years ago a brother of Dan's had occasion to visit the East, and while in New York called upon his cousin. He was given a cordial welcome and received hospitable treatment during his stay, but it does not appear that either family made any effort to continue the acquaintance.

Shortly after the treaty of October 23, 1826, which established the "Ten-mile Reserve" at the forks of the Wabash, the Government built a house for the Indian agent on the south side of the river a short distance below the forks and nearly opposite the center of the reserve. The old house has long since fallen into decay and all that is left is the old stone chimney, which stands alone, a mournful reminder of the activities of former years and the glory of a departed race.

To this old Indian agency would come at stated intervals the Govern¬ ment paymaster, accompanied by his assistants and his body-guard, to pay the Indians their annuities. Then the "Forks" would present an animated appearance. Traders brought their wares to sell to the Indians, many gathered out of curiosity, and the natives wore their best blankets and decked themselves with paint and feathers for the occasion. Each head of a family or leader of a band presented his account for payment, and they had a peculiar system of arithmetic. A bundle of small sticks, one stick for each member of the family or band, was presented to the paymaster, who counted out the money. Whether it was the inherent honesty of the red man, or his fear of being detected, none ever attempted, so far as can be ascertained, to "pad the pay roll" by adding more sticks to his bundle than the actual number of Indians in the family or band.

After the completion of the Wabash & Erie Canal, which passed near the agency on the opposite side of the river, floating saloons became so numerous on annuity day, which caused so many fights among the

Indians, that the paymaster removed the payment ground to a place on Clear Creek, in the northwestern part of the present Huntington Town¬ ship. During one of the payments at this place the incident occurred that gave Silver Creek its narhe. The money was provided in silver half dollars and was packed in boxes, each containing $500. A thief stole one of the boxes and started away with it, but fancied that he was pursued and threw it in the creek. The money was afterward recovered and the stream in which it was found was given the name of Silver Creek.

The last Indian payment was made in Huntington County in 1845, when 620 Miamis received their annuity money. Meshingomesia 's band was the most numerous of any paid at that time. His bundle contained 42 sticks; La Fontaine's, 21; Poqua Godfrey's, 20; La Fontaine's wife's, 16; Shappendoseah's (brother of Meshingomesia), 15; Old Mary's, 11, and Majenica's, 10. The next year the Indians were removed to Kansas.

the Government issued strict orders that no whisky should he sold to the Indians "except for medicinal purposes." The brave who was fond of fire-water soon learned that in order to get the coveted drink he must be sick. Near the Wabash County line lived an Indian named Joe Win¬ ter, whose fondness for fire-water was so well known the traders refused to listen to his stories of illness for fear of being punished by the Govern¬ ment officials. One day Joe went to a trading house at Lafontaine and waited around for some time for a favorable opportunity to make his wants known. The merchant noticing him at last, asked him what he wanted. "Me want little fire-water," said Joe. "Is somebody sick?" asked the merchant. "Child got snake bite," responded the Indian. That seemed to be a sufficient excuse for selling him the whisky, and the trader asked how much he needed. "Two gallons," promptly answered Joe. The trader refused to let him have that amount for a snake bite, when the Indian, after studying for a few moments, drew himself up in all his native dignity and explained: "Ugh! Um heap big snake." It is not known whether Joe got his fire-water, but he no doubt thought he was entitled to it on account of his artfulness.

On Wednesday, June 22, 1881, a number of workmen employed by a contractor named Donahay in the construction of the railroad yards at Andrews made a demand for an advance in wages from $1.50 to $1.75 per day. Donahay offered them an advance of 10 cents per day and some of the men were inclined to 'accept the proposition, but the majority, under the leadership of a young man named Daniel Daily, refused. Throwing down their tools, the men went up town, where they obtained a United States flag and plenty to drink. It happened to be pay day and Mr. Donahay had advised Noah Brubaker, the saloon-keeper, not to sell liquors to the men employed at the yards, but the saloon-keeper did not heed the warning. After Daily and his crowd had bolstered up their courage with whisky they hoisted the flag at the head of the procession, marched back to the yards and compelled the other men to quit work.

The whole force then returned to the saloon, but Brubaker had become somewhat alarmed and refused to let them in. One Tim O'Brien went to the side door and was trying to break in when the door opened sud¬ denly and someone struck him on the head with an ax, knocking him unconscious. When Daily discovered what had happened he ordered the saloon torn down. By this time O'Brien had recovered, and gathering up a convenient fence post began to batter the front door. Brubaker, on the inside, seized a shotgun and fired through the door, wounding O'Brien and a man named Gallagher. This directed the attention of the mob to that quarter and Brubaker took advantage of the opportunity to escape through the side door. He had not gone far when he was dis- covered and the crowd started in pursuit, crying, ' ' Catch him ! Kill him!" etc. Seeing that he was about to be overtaken, he took refuge in the house of Doctor Lines, which was soon surrounded by the pursuers. With the assistance of Doctor Lines, Brubaker evaded the crowd and made his escape. He started for Huntington, but met Sheriff Kintz and a posse of four men and returned with them to Andrews. The sheriff made several arrests, but most of the men succeeded in secreting them¬ selves.

After Brubaker left his saloon the crowd forced an entrance and com¬ pletely wrecked the place. His loss was about five hundred dollars, but the citizens of the town showed no sympathy for him and rescued him from the frenzied mob only to prevent murder from being done. Galla¬ gher and O'Brien were taken to Fort Wayne and the latter subsequently died from the effects of his wounds. In this disgraceful affair none of the citizens of Andrews were interested except in the capacity of peacemakers. All those who took an active part in the strike or in the assault upon the saloon were men who had been brought there by the contractor to work in the railroad yards, so that the good name of the town did not suffer as a result of the riot.

In the winter of 1888-89 Andrews again came into the limelight on account of notices sent to a number of people signed "27 AVhite Caps." These notices usually notified the recipient to reform or leave town within a specified time, or undergo the ordeal of a visit from the terrible twenty-seven. One of the men thus notified was William Dowell, who had the reputation of spending too much of his earnings for strong drink and not properly providing for his family. About 11 o'clock on the night of Sunday, January 13, 1889, he was found in Schnurr's saloon and the "White Caps" took him from the place with a rope around his neck. The rope was thrown over the arm of a telegraph pole and Dowell was hoisted from the ground. He was then lowered and given an opportunity to promise better conduct, but while on the ground man¬ aged to slip the noose from his neck and, as one of the citizens afterward said, "ran through town yelling like a Comanche Indian." His cries aroused the people and a number came to his assistance. Seeing that they were about to be discovered the White Caps fled. Dowell's neck was found to be slightly bruised from its contact with the noose, but the visit had a salutary effect upon his subsequent behavior.

Samuel Trimble, of Jefferson Township, and Edward Freel, of Andrews, also received notices advising them to improve their manner of living or take the consequences, but after the Dowell affair it seems the White Caps were afraid to undertake any more outrages, and after a time the matter quieted down and the White Caps were forgotten. Who they were still remains a mystery.

When the first white men came to Huntington County they found in the western part of Huntington and a portion of Dallas Township a mass of timber blown down by a storm at a comparatively recent period, as the branches of the trees, in many instances, were still intact. The debris was piled so thickly on the ground that even the fleet-footed and agile deer could not make their way through it, and wild beasts of all kinds avoided the place. This strip became known to the early settlers as "Fallen Timbers," and several years elapsed before the ground was cleared of the traces of the storm.

It is impossible to note every storm that has occurred within the county, but, as far as can be ascertained from newspaper files and other sources, some of the most disastrous are mentioned in this chapter, especially those of recent years.

About half-past 5 o'clock on the afternoon of June 1, 1899, it began raining in Huntington, and at 6 o'clock there was a cloudburst accom¬ panied by a strong wind and a great display of electricity. Shade trees were blown down ; the Erie roundhouse was severely damaged, part of the roof and a number of ventilators being carried away ; lumber at Perrine & Bartlett 's mill was scattered in all directions ; the engine room at the Withington handle factory was unroofed, and other buildings in the city were more or less damaged. The storm came from the southwest. Near Mount Etna considerable valuable timber was destroyed and telephone wires were so badly damaged that it was several days before normal service could be restored. Crops were beaten into the ground by the heavy rainfall, signs were blown in every direction, some of them were never found, and the ivy was torn from the Baptist Church on East Market Street.

Arnos Carr's barn, south of Huntington, was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. The residence of Allen Helvey, in the city, was also struck, and Air. Helvey was knocked from his chair, but fortunately the house did not take fire. Several other buildings in the county were struck. The damage wrought by this storm ran into thousands of dollars.

A heavy hailstorm occurred about 3 o'clock on the afternoon of May 7, 1900. This storm also came from the southwest and did great damage to the growing crops before it struck the city. The hailstones were large enough to break windows, and in the country a number of chickens and small animals were killed by being struck by hailstones, while the wind played general havoc in both country and town. In Huntington the Erie roundhouse was again unroofed, a corner of the train dispatcher's office was blown off, signs were carried away, chimney tops were demolished and at Spice's greenhouse about seventy -five dollars' worth of glass was shattered into fragments by the hail. The

On February 19, 1909, a storm accompanied by a heavy fall of sleet did great damage to the telephone and telegraph lines, particularly those of the Warren and Majenica Telephone companies. Miles of wire were torn from the poles and it was some time before the lines could be restored to perfect working order.

One of the worst storms in the history of the county was that of Friday, March 21, 1913, which was general over Central and Northern Indiana, Indianapolis, Richmond, Logansport, Wabash, Huntington, Elk¬ hart, Michigan City and other cities all suffering from its ravages. The storm began early in the morning. About 7 o'clock the steeple of the Baptist Church was blown down by the wind and piled in the alley east of the church. Part of the steeple struck the building occupied by the Huntington Company and the business college and inflicted slight damage. The fall of the steeple also broke a cable belonging to the tele¬ phone company, the wires fell across the traction wire and a fire was started in the telephone exchange. Prompt work by the fire department saved the building from destruction. Part of the roof of the Barker Brown shoe factory was carried away by the wind and the ventilating blower was wrecked. The tops of the jail chimneys were torn down; the Becker Building on West State Street was partially unroofed ; the plateglass windows in Bechstein's drug store on North Jefferson Street were shattered; a transom was blown in at the Huntington Trust Company and the room was flooded by the rain; the wires of the Huntington Light and Fuel Company were seriously damaged, and more or less damage was wrought all over the city.

An electrical storm, accompanied by a heavy fall of rain, visited the northern part of the county on June 4, 1914. The residences of Mrs. Gers, 818 Kintz Street, and G. A. Park, 619 Etna Avenue, were struck by lightning within a few minutes of each other, but only slight damage was done in either case. At the former the shingles were torn from part of the roof and the electric light fuses were burned out. At the Park home the bolt followed the chimney into the dining room, tore a picture from the wall and broke a few dishes.

The residence of Jacob Kaiser, 862 George Street, did not fare so well. Lightning struck the house about half-past 3 o'clock and in a few minutes the roof was in flames. The fire department was summoned and succeeded after a heroic fight in saving the greater part of the house, though the roof and upper story were severely damaged. Fortu¬ nately no lives were lost nor no one hurt by the storm, which was one of the most violent in Huntington for some time.

W. H. Stewart, a Huntington contractor, was engaged in building a sehoolhouse in Whitley County and the unfinished structure was dam¬ aged to the extent of some two hundred dollars, a brick wall that had just been finished being blown down by the wind.

While Huntington County is not in the storm belt, in the sense that it is subject to tornadoes or cyclones, as in some sections of the country, it has been frequently visited by atmospheric disturbances, and the storms above mentioned are types of the ' ' rough weather ' ' the people of the county have had to undergo. Scarcely a year passes without a storm of some character, though a majority of them do no damage, and it is only now and then that one destroys property or endangers human life.

Old settlers can recall the great flood in the spring of 1847, which was the first of any consequence after the settlement of Huntington County was commenced. Flint Creek, then an open stream, became a raging torrent, but the town was small and little damage was done.

During the next thirty years there were several periods of high water, when the Little River overflowed its banks and wrought some injury to growing crops. But no flood equaled that of 1847 until 1883. On Friday, February 2, 1883, "Groundhog Day," there was a heavy fall of snow. Late in the afternoon the snow turned to rain, the temperature rose during the night and the snow melted rapidly. The ground was frozen so that the water could not penetrate it, and by noon Saturday every stream in the county was taxed to its utmost capacity to carry off the water, and the channels of Little River, the Wabash and the Salamonie were filled with floating ice. All day Saturday the rain con¬ tinued to fall and before the day was over the Wabash tracks west of Huntington were under water. The lowlands along the Little River be¬ tween Huntington and Roanoke were inundated and several families were forced to leave their homes and seek places of safety. Flint Creek again went on the rampage and this time the population of the city was about six thousand, so that the flood had more property to prey upon than any of its predecessors. Cellars were flooded, bridges were washed away, and other property along the streams felt the effects of the high water. The temperature fell again on Saturday and on Sunday morning ther¬ mometers registered only a few degrees above zero. At various points along the Little and Wabash rivers could be seen little herds of live stock gathered on the high grounds surrounded by water, without food and shivering with the intense cold. Quite a number of animals were unable to reach the high ground and were carried away by the flood.

The flood of 1883 was not confined to the Wabash and its tributaries. Along the southern border of the state many people were rendered home¬ less by the great flood in the Ohio River, which broke all previous records. Gov. Albert G. Porter issued a proclamation calling on chari- tably inclined people to aid the flood sufferers, and notwithstanding the distress in Huntington County caused by the local floods, a number of her citizens contributed to the funds of the general relief committee appointed by the governor.

In July, 1888, and again in April, 1890, Flint Creek caused consid¬ erable annoyance by flooding cellars and carrying away fences and port¬ able property along its banks. The flood of 1890 began on Sunday, April 13th, with a high wind and a heavy fall of rain. Within a few hours a score or more of cellars near Flint Creek were filled with water. The basement of the Opera House Block, at the corner of Market and Warren streets, was flooded; Charles Mader suffered a loss of about $800 by the water getting into the cellar under his grocery; Zeller's shoe store was damaged to the extent of $200; about fifty dollars' worth of goods in the basement of Shaefer's drug store were ruined, and the water flower down Warren and Court streets across the Wabash tracks. A large quantity of lumber was carried away from Martin's lumber yard and again the lowlands along the Little River were under water. A hole was torn in the roof of the Methodist Episco¬ pal Church, on the west side of the steeple, and lower down some of the bricks were knocked out of the wall. It was thought that this was the work of lightning. The damage amounted to about two hundred dollars. On East Market Street a house occupied by W. H. Shirk, a brakeman on the Erie Railroad, was struck by lightning. Mrs. Shirk was severely shocked and was also burned on the left side. It was shortly after this flood that the first steps were taken to convert Flint Creek into a closed sewer and put an end to its depredations.

On January 22, 1904, the Wabash and Little rivers began rising rapidly, owing to the January thaw, and in a little while the floating ice jammed at several points, causing the streams to overflow their banks. Lowlands were covered with water, but the flood occurred at a season of the year when there were no crops in the fields and but little damage was done in the county. In Wabash and Miami counties, after the Wabash River received the waters of the Salamonie and Mississinewa rivers, the damage was more extensive, several bridges being washed away and a number of families rendered temporarily homeless.

On Friday, April 1, 1904, another heavy fall of rain came and again the Little River broke over its banks above Huntington, flooding the low grounds and holding the farmers back with their spring plowing. Farther than this the damage wrought by the flood in Huntington County was slight, but farther down the river it was more serious. In the two floods of 1904 the wisdom of the city authorities in making a sewer out of Flint Creek was fully demonstrated. At the time the improvement was made many of the property holders were inclined to find fault with the cost, but after the completion of the sewer and the floods of 1904, when no injury was inflicted by the creek which in the past had been such a menace to property, everybody was satisfied.

The month of March, 1913, will go down in history as the period of great floods all over the country. Dayton, Indianapolis, and numerous other cities in the Ohio Valley suffered property losses running into mil¬ lions of dollars. The " oldest inhabitant" can recall nothing in the way of high water to compare with the great floods of that month.

Early on Sunday morning, March 23, 1913, rain began falling and continued almost without intermission until Monday evening. Little River began rising on Sunday afternoon, but the danger point was not reached until Monday. Then the river broke over its banks at "The Ox-bow," above Huntington, ran through the fair grounds southeast of the city, and completely inundated the low grounds south of the river's regular channel. Residences along Rabbit Run were quickly flooded and many people were compelled to seek safety and comfort in flight. A few of the houses in that district were moved from their foundations and a large barn near the Huntington flour mill was anchored with ropes tc prevent it from being washed down stream and knocking the bridges from their abutments.

At Markle the powder house of the Markle Stone Company, in which was stored a quantity of dynamite, was washed away. The officers of the stone company, fearing that great destruction might be caused at some point down the river by the house striking an obstruction that would explode the dynamite, sent warning by telephone and telegraph to the towns below Markle, but the powder house was never heard from.

One of the most serious inconveniences to the people of Huntington was the stoppage of railway traffic. By Wednesday evening, March 26th, the Erie was the only railroad entering the city that could run its trains with anything like regularity, and that only westward from Huntington. It was some time before the other lines had regained their normal con¬ ditions.

Mayor Feightner called upon the people of the city for aid and over six hundred dollars were raised within a few hours. Provisions, clothing and some money were sent to Peru, where the suffering was much greater than in Huntington. The people who had been driven out of the Rabbit Run district were cared for and furnished with provisions by the Charity Guild. A number of families were thus supplied until the waters sub¬ sided so that they could return to their homes. A relief station was also established by the city authorities and a great deal of assistance was ren¬ dered through its operations. This was the first time in the history of Huntington that so many people had been driven from home by high water. Those who had been exiled by the flood returned to their homes as soon as possible and began the work of cleaning up, buying new furniture, etc., in the hope and belief that such a disaster would never again be visited upon them.

Every creek and river in the county was engaged in the work of devastating bridges. A special session of the county commissioners was called to meet soon after the flood and more than eighty-five thousand dollars were appropriated for repairing bridges that could be repaired and building new ones in place of those that had been swept away entirely.

Both the city and county of Huntington have been unusually for¬ tunate in that no destructive conflagrations have occurred at any time since the county was organized eighty years ago. A few bams and houses have been struck by lightning in the rural districts and burned, a few others have been destroyed by fire through carelessness or negli¬ gence of the owners or occupants, a number of buildings have been burned in the city, but with one exception there has never been a fire that swept over a large district.

The fires at the flax mill and bagging factory have been described in previous chapters. About 1 o'clock on Sunday morning, March 2, 1890, fire was discovered in Col. C. E. Briant's large cattle bam about three miles east of Huntington, near the Little River. At the time of the fire the barn contained thirty-three head of fine Polled Angus, Durham and Jersey cattle, one imported cow having cost Colonel Briant $750. The total loss was about $7,000, with only $500 of insurance. The fire was caused by an incendiary and a man who had formerly been in Colonel Briant's employ was arrested, tried, convicted and sen¬ tenced to the penitentiary, but that did not restore the barn to its owner. The people of Huntington County generally sympathized with the colonel in his misfortune.

Cyrus E. Briant was born at Birmingham, Erie County, Ohio, March 2, 1829, and continued to reside there until he was sixteen years of age, when he went to Michigan. A little later he removed to Allen County, Indiana, and from there to Huntington County. In 1862 he enlisted in Company D, Eighty-eighth Indiana Infantry, and was made captain of his company. While stationed in Tennessee he was promoted to lieu¬ tenant-colonel, and in the fall of 1864 was commissioned colonel of the regiment. After the war he engaged in the manufacture of lumber, staves and heading at Huntington, in which he was engaged for several years. He then bought the farm above mentioned and became interested in raising thoroughbred cattle. Colonel Briant served in the Huntington City Council for many years ; wms elected to the lower house of the State Legislature in 1886, re-elected in 1888, and while a member of that body took a prominent part in securing the passage of several important laws. Although an active and enthusiastic republican, he had a host of friends among his political opponents who would always vote for him whenever he ran for office. He was one of the charter members of James R. Slack Post, Grand Army of the Republic, and a public spirited citizen. His widow, Mrs. Julia Bell Briant, to whom he was married in 1852, is still living in Huntington.

On Friday, June 27, 1890, Myers' planing mill at Warren was com¬ pletely destroyed by fire, with some forty thousand feet of lumber. The town had no fire department, and though the citizens turned out and ren¬ dered what assistance they could, the flames were soon beyond control. Several buildings near by were fired by flying sparks and the people turned their attention to saving these, leaving the mill to its fate. The origin of the fire could not be learned, but it was supposed to have been the work of an incendiary. The mill was owned by Asa and Frank Myers, who suffered a loss of about six thousand dollars, with no

A destructive fire occurred at Andrews on Thursday, March 10, 1899. It started in an old warehouse facing the Wabash Railroad tracks oppo¬ site the depot. This building was erected in 1862 by Elijah Snowden for a flour mill and later was used as a grain elevator and storage warehouse. The volunteer fire department responded promptly to the call for its serv¬ ices and worked manfully to stay the ravages of the flames. But the building had been standing for nearly forty years, the lumber in it was thoroughly dry, and, to use a somewhat hackneyed expression, "it burned like tinder. ' ' A brisk wind was blowing and it was with great difficulty that the buildings near the warehouse were saved from destruction. As it was, a few of them were severely scorched. Some of the people wanted to send to Huntington for assistance, fearing the whole town would he destroyed, but after a hard fight of several hours' duration the fire was extinguished.

One of the greatest fires in the history of the county occurred at Markle on Saturday, April 27, 1907. It originated in the livery barn of James Dumbauld, starting where a chimney passed through the roof, and soon passed beyond control. The men about the barn gave more attention to saving the horses than to extinguishing the flames, and though the animals were saved, about one thousand dollars' worth of other property in the barn was totally destroyed, together with the building, which was valued at $2,500. A barber shop immediately east of the barn caught fire and the breeze carried the flames to Harvey & Roush's hardware store, Maxwell's meat market, Thomas Redden's gro¬ cery, Penfold 's hardware store, the Odd Fellows' Building, and the Boyd and Yoos blocks in quick succession, and it looked at one time as though the entire town was doomed. A message to Huntington brought part of that city's fire fighting apparatus and a number of men, who worked from half-past 2 o'clock in the afternoon until 6 o'clock before the fire was checked sufficiently to permit them to return to Huntington. About 3 o'clock the Yoos Block, the largest in the town, fell and carried with it a number of the telephone wires. The total loss was estimated at from sixty thousand to seventy-five thousand dollars. With commendable enterprise the people of Markle went to work to rebuild and a twelve month later no traces of the fire remained.

About noon on August 2, 1913, a fire broke out in the roof of Charles Spath's cement block factory at Bippus. It was discovered by students on their way home from school. A slight breeze was blowing, the build¬ ings were dry, as no rain had fallen for several days, and fear was expressed for the adjoining buildings. Prompt work on the part of the volunteer firemen with their hand engine, assisted by the populace, finally succeeded in extinguishing what threatened to be a bad fiie.

The summer of 1901 was one of excitement for the Town of Andrews. Hardly had the citizens recovered from the bank failure and the arrest of Banker Key, when the safe in the postoffice was blown. The burglary occurred about half-past 1 o'clock on the morning of August 21 and was committed by three men, who took tools from the Wabash section house to force an entrance into Snowden's store, in which the postoffice was kept. Nitroglycerin was used to blow the safe door from its fastenings and the explosion was of such force as to throw a part of the door across the room and imbed it in a brick wall. Riley Aldrich, night watchman at the novelty works, heard the explosion and started to investigate. As he approached the store he was stopped by two men and held until a third man came out of the store and ordered him released. This man struck Aldrich in the face with a revolver, inflicting an ugly wound. The robbers then hurried off.

Word of the robbery was telephoned to Huntington. Sheriff Crandal and his deputy, Bert Nevius, started at once for Andrews, as did police¬ men Slater and Ross. The officers arrived soon after the cracksmen had disappeared and tracked them to Huntington. Early next morning two men were arrested at the Klondike Restaurant, taken to police head¬ quarters and given the ' ' third degree, ' ' but both gave a good account of themselves and were released.

A few days after the robbery the postmistress at Brookfield, Shelby County, wrote to Sheriff Crandal for a description of the burglars, stating that she believed they might be the same men who had recently robbed the postoffice at that place. The sheriff sent the description, as it had been given to him by Mr. Aldrich, but they were never apprehended. The result of the robbery was the loss of $270 in money and $100 in stamps. Seventy dollars of the money was the property of Mr. Snowden and the rest belonged to the postoffice.

President McKinley died on September 14, 1901, and the next day, which was Sunday, a minister named Joseph A. Wildman occupied the pulpit at the Wesleyan Methodist Church in Huntington, in the absence of the regular pastor. In the course of his sermon he made some remarks about Mr. McKinley that aroused the indignation of some of his hearers. On Monday evening, about 10 o'clock, some two hundred men went to Mr. Wildman 's house in College Park to demand a retraction. A few of them approached the house and asked the minister to come to the door. He was somewhat dilatory in complying with the request and as soon as the door was opened he was seized and dragged into the yard. He refused to apologize for his utterances of the preceding day and added that he regarded Mr. McKinley as a political demagogue. Wildman was then stripped, rolled in a pool of tar, after which a coat of feathers was applied and the men then returned to the city.

Sheriff Crandal received notice that something of the kind was to be done, and in company with Deputy Sheriff Bert Nevius started for Col¬ lege Park to prevent the outrage. It was a dark night and the sheriff, not knowing exactly where Wildman lived, arrived too late. He found Mr. Wildman in a bathtub, with his wife trying to scrub the tar from his body, and seeing that nothing could be done he took his departure.

Wildman went to work next morning and showed a disposition to treat the whole affair as a joke. He was a minister of the radical branch of the United Brethren denomination and came from Michigan about three years before the incident above narrated. His name appeared in the city directory as a painter and he preached as opportunity offered, never holding a regular charge in the city nor county. Although the action of the men who administered the tar and feathers is not to be commended, the affair shows that the people of Huntington County are not inclined to sit tamely by and hear disparaging remarks made about the nation's chief magistrate. It is said that the crowd that took part in rebuking Wildman was composed of men of both the leading political parties, though no serious effort was ever made to ascertain just who they were, and the excitement over the affair was short-lived.

Among the multitudes who daily come and go over the much traveled Goshen road, few will fail to observe a unique hitching post in front of the Harmon W. Stults homestead, in Clear Creek Township. It consists of an oddly shaped casting of iron mounted on a block of wood. A large opening at the top serves as a convenient place through which a hitchstrap can be passed and tied in the usual way. It is of interest to note that the strange looking device has a history. In 1864 a log house, which stood on East State Street, a few rods east of the street now known as Broadway, in the City of Huntington, was torn down by Harmon Stults, administrator of the estate to which the old log cabin belonged. Buried under the house was the peculiar casting outfit and it was soon recognized as a die or stamp for making counterfeit money. A great deal of spurious coin was in circulation in Huntington and vicinity, both before and during the Civil war, and detectives made a fruitless search for months and years to locate the den where the "queer stuff" was turned out. The trail finally became so hot that certain suspects absconded, putting an end to further investigations. The old cabin was built by the Iielveys, but later passed into possession of other parties and there was no proof as to identity of the culprits who "made the money." As late as 1904 Mr. Stults was called before the Federal officers at Indianapolis to account for having in his possession the coin outfit referred to. When facts were learned, the officials issued in his behalf, a special permit, authorizing him to retain the old relic for use as a hitching rack.