Van Buren Township

Van Buren Township

This township occupies the northeast corner of the county. It is five miles square, and contains an area of twenty-five square miles. It was named in honor of Van Buren on the suggestion of George Moore, who was one of its earliest settlers. The population of the township in 1850 was four hundred and six. In 1860 it was six hundred and seventytwo. In 1870 it was eight hundred and seventy-four, and in 1874 estimated at one thousand.

The number of school children in 1858 was two hundred and fifty-six. In 1874 it was three hundred and eightysix. The number of school houses at the present is six. The total value of school property including grounds, houses, maps, etc., is $2,550.

Among the early settlers of this township were John- Shields, George and Aquilla Moore, Samuel Finnemore, Zachariah Robinson, Harrison Allen, J. M. Zedaker, Hiram Palmer, Thomas Gordon, Jacob Davis, and James Blades. Among those serving as Justices of the Peace we find the following : Hiram Allen, David Culberson, Zachariah Robinson, J. S, Moore, P. Baker, A. M. Williams, J. D. Marsh, and G. M. Painter. The first Trustee was George Moore. The present one is J. N. Inglis. There are in the township one post office, one grist mill, three saw mills, one drug store, two general assortment stores, three blacksmith shops, one wagon maker, two physicians, two churches, two Sabbath-schools, two local preachers, one harness shop, one shoe shop, and one tan yard.

Summitville, is in this township, a separate account of which will be given in another place. The general surface of the township is level. It is comparatively new but is improving rapidly, and will soon compare favorably with other townships. The proposed railroad from the lakes to Anderson will pass through this township, and will give them a much needed market. Mud Creek passes through, the eastern part and near Summitville.

The Indian Murders In 1824

At the time of the Indian murders on Fall Creek, the country was new and the population scattered here and there in the woods. The game was plenty, and the Indian hunting grounds had not been forsaken by several of the tribes. The white settlers felt some alarm at the news of an Indian encampment, in the neighborhood, and although they were all friendly, a watchful eye was kept on all their movements. The county of Madison had been organized but a short time before. Pendleton, with a few houses at -the falls, was the seat of the new county. Anderson, on White River, was a small village. Chesterfield and Huntsville were not then heard of. There were only a few houses between Indianapolis and the falls, and still fewer in other directions from the capital. Early in the spring of 1824, a hunting party of Seneca Indians, consisting of two men, three squaws, and four children, encamped on the east side of Fall Creek, about eight miles above the falls. The oountry around their camping ground was a dense, unbroken forest, filled with game. The principal Indian was called Ludlow, and was said to be named for Stephen Ludlow, of Lawrenceburg. The other man I call Mingo. The Indians commenced their seasons hunting and trapping - the men with their guns, and the squaws setting the traps, preparing and cooking the game, and caring for the children - two boys, some ten years old, and two girls of more tender years. A week had rolled around, and the success of the Indians had been very fair, with better prospects ahead, as the spring was opening, and raccoons were beginning to leave their holes in the trees in search of frogs that had begun to leave their muddy beds at the bottom of thj creeks. The trapping season was only just commencing. Ludlow and his band, wholly unsuspicious of liarm, and unconscious of any approaching enemies, were seated around their camp fire, when there approached through the woods five white men - Harper, Sawyer, Hud- son, Bridge, sen, and Bridge, jr. Harper was the leader^ and stepping up to Ludlow, took him by the hand and told him his party had lost their horses, and wanted Ludlow and Mingo to help find them. The Indians agreed to go in search of the horses. Ludlow took one path, and Mingo another. Harper followed Ludlow, Hudson trailed Mingo, keeping some fifty yards behind. They traveled some short distance from the camp when Harper shot Ludlow through the body. He fell dead on his face. Hudson, on hearing the crack of the rifle of Harper, immediately shot Mingo, the ball entering just below his shoulders and passing clear through his body. Mingo fell dead. The party then met,, and proceeded to within gunshot of the camp. Sawyer shot one of the squaws through the head. She fell and died without a struggle. Bridge, sen., shot another squaw, and Bridge, jr., the other squaw. Both fell dead. Sawyer then fired at the oldest boy, but only wounded him. The other children were shot by some of the party. Harper then led on to the camp.

The three squaws, one boy and the two little girls lay dead, bat the oldest boy was still living. Sawyer took him by the legs and knocked liis brains out against the end of a log. The camp was then robbed of everything worth car* rying away. Harper, the ring leader, left immediately for Ohio and was never taken. Hudson, Sawyer, Bridge, sen. and Bridge, jr. were arrested, and when I first saw them> they were confined in a square log jail, fitting tight above, below and on the sides. I entered with the Sheriif. The prisoners were all heavily ironed and sitting on the straw on the floor. Hudson was a man of about middle size with a bad look, dark eye and bushy hair, about thirty-five yearsof age in appearance. Sawyer was about the same age, rather heavier than Hudson, but there was nothing in his appearance that could have marked him in a crowd, as any other than a common farmer. Bridge, sen., was much older than Sawyer; his head was quite grey, he was above the common higlit, slender and a little bent while standing. Bridge, jr. was some eighteen years of age, a tall stripling.

The news of these Indian innrders flew upon the wings of the wind. The settlers became greatly alarmed, fearijig the retaliatory vengeance of the tribes and especially of the other bands of the Senecas, The facts reached Mr. John Johnston at the Indian Agency at Piqua, Ohio. An account of tlie murders was sent from the Agency to the War Department at Washington City. Colonel Johnston and William Conner visited all the Indian tribes, and assured them that the Government would punish the offenders, and obtaining the promises of the chiefs and warriors that they would wait and see what their " Great Father " would do before they took the matter into their own hands. This quieted the fears of the settlers, and preparation vjas commenced for the trials. A new log building was erected at the north part of Pendleton, with two rooms, one for the court and the other for the grand jury. The court room was about twenty by thirty feet with a heavy " puncheon " floor, a platform at one end, three feet high, with a strong railing in front, a bench for the judges, a plain table for the clerk, in front a long bench for the counsel, a little pen for the prisoners, a sidj bench for the witnesses, and a long pole in front, substantially supported, to separate the crowd from the court and bar. A guard by day and night was placed around the jail. The court was composed of Wm. W. Wick, presiding judge, Sameul HoUiday and Adam Winchell, associates. Judge Wick was young on the bench but with much experience in criminal trials. Judge Holliday was one of the best and most conscientious men I ever knew. Judge Winchell was a blacksmith, and had ironed the prisoners; he was an honest, rough, frank, illiterate man, without any pretentions to legal knowledge. Moses Cox was the clerk; he could barely write his name, and when a candidate for Justice of the Peace at Connersville, he boasted of his superior qualifications : ** I have been sued on every section of the statute and know all about the law, while my competitor has never been sued and knows nothing about the statute." Samuel Cory, the SheriiF, was a fine specimen of a woods' Hoosier, tall and strong boned, with hearty laugh, without fear of man or beast, with a voice that made the woods ring as he called the jurors and witnesses. The county was thus prepared for the trials. In the meantime the Government was not sleeping. Colonel Johnston, the Indian Agent, was directed to attend the trials to see that the witnesses were present and to pay their fees. Gen. James Noble, then a United States Senator, was employed by the Secretary of War to prosecute, with power to fee an assistant. Philip Sweetzer, a young son-in-law of the General, of high promise in his profession, was selected by the General as his assistant ; Calvin Fletcher was the regular prosecuting attorney, then a young man of more than ordinary ability, and a good criminal lawyer. The only inn at Pendleton was a new frame house near the creek, still standing by the side of the raih'oad bridge.

An Anecdote

The term of the court was about being hehl. The Sunday before the term commenced the lawyers began to arrive, and, as the custom was in those days, they were invited out to dine on the sabbath by tlie most wealthy citizens, as a favor and compliment, not to the lawyers but to their hosts. "We had a statute in those days imposing a fine of one dollar on each person who should '' profanely curse, swear, or damn," and making it the duty of all judges and magistrates to see that the law was enforced upon offenders in their presence. Judge Holliday invited Calvin Fletcher, the Circuit Prosecuting Attorney, and his Indianapolis friend, Daniel B. Wick - the brother of the Judge - to dine with him. The invitation was accepted, of course, there l)eing no previous engagement in the way. Dinner was announced ; Judge Holliday asked a "blessing" at the table - Mr. Fletcher declining. The Judge had killed a fat goose for the extraordinary occasion, which was nicely stuffed with well seasoned bread and onions, and placed in the center of the table. Mr. Wick, who was uot a church member, fixed his eye upon the goose, and said by way of compliment, ^^ That is a damned fine goose. Judge." " Yes, it is a fine goose, and you are fined a dollar for swearing." Not a word more was spoken at the table. Dinner over, Judge Holliday said, ^Squire Wick, pay me the dollar." " I have not a cent with me, Judge," " Perhaps Mr. Fletcher will lend it to you." Mr. Fletcher - ''I really have only enough with me to pay my tavern bill." Judge Holliday - ^' What is to be done ? " Fletcher - " Lend him the money, Judge, and take his note, or bind him over to court." " I'll bind him over ; you'll go his security ? " " The rules of the court forbid lawyers from going security for any one, but you can go it yourself; just draw the recognizance that ' Daniel B. Wick and Samuel Holliday appeared before Samuel Holliday, Associate Judge of the Madison Circuit Court and acknowledged themselves to be indebted to the State in the penally of twenty-five dollars each for the appearance of Daniel B. Wick at the next term of the court to answer.'" The reasonable proposition of Mr. Fbtcher was at once accepted by all parties. The recognizance was taken in due form, and forfeited at the next term, by the absence of Mr. Wick. Judgment was rendered against Judge Holliday for twenty-jive dollars. A petition to the Governor was drawn up, and signed by the whole bar ; a remittance soon followed.

Trial Of Hudson

The day for the trial of Hudson, one of the prisoners arrived. A number of distinguished lawyers were in attendance from this State, and several from the State of Ohio. Among the most prominent I name General James Noble, Philips Sweetzer, Harvey Cregg, Lot Bloomfield, James Rariden, Charles H. Test, Calvin Fletcher, Daniel B. Wick and William R. Morris, of this State ; General Sampson Mason and Moses Vance, of Ohio. Judge Wick being temporarily absent in the morning, William E,. Morris arose and moved the associate judges - " I ask that these gentlemen be admitted as attorneys and counsellors at this bar ; they are regular practitioners, but have not brought their license with them." Judge Winchell - " Have they come here to defend the prisoners ?" " The most of them have." " Let them be sworn ; nobody but a lawyer would defend a murderer."

Mr. Morris - " I move the court for a writ of habeas corpus, to bring up the prisoners now illegally confined in jail." Judge Winchell - " For What?" "A writ of Habeas corpus." " What do you want to do with it ?" "To bring up the prisoners and have them, discharged." " Is there any law for that?" Morris read the statute regulating the writ of habeas corpus. " That act, Mr. Morris, has been repealed long ago." " Your honor is mistaken, it is a constitutional writ, as old as Magna Charta, itself." " AVell, Mr. Morris, to cut the matter short, it would do you no good to bring out the prisoners. I ironed them myself, and you will never get them irons off until they have been tried, habeas corpus or no habeas corpus." Percuria " motion overruled." Judge Wick entered and took his seat between the two side judges. " Call the grand jury." All answer to their names and are sworn. Court adjourned for dinner. Court met; the grand jury brought into court an indictment for murder drawn by Mr. Fletcher against Hudson. Counsel on both sides - " Bring the prisoner into court." The Court - " Sheriff, put in the box a jury." Sheriff - " May it please the Court, Dr. Highday just handed me a list of jurors to call on the jury." Judge Wick - " Bring Dr. Highday into court." " Did your honor wish to see me?" "Dr. Highday, is this your hand writing?" " I presume it is." " Dr. Highday we have no jail to put you in, the one we have is full; hear your sentence, it is the judgment of the Court that you be banished from these court grounds till the trials are over. Sheriff, see the judgment of the Court carried strictly into execution."

I digress to give the scene in court, published by General Sampson Mason, in a Springfield, Ohio, paper. " As I entered the court room the Judge was sitting on a block paring his toe nails, when the Sheriff entered, out of breath, and informed the court that he had six jurors tied, and his deputies were running down the others." General Mason, with all his candor, unquestionably drew upon his imagination in this instance.

Hudson, the prisoner, was brought into court by the deputy Sheriff and two of the guard. His appearance had greatly changed since I first saw him in the log pen with his comrades in crime. He was now pale, haggard and downcast; and with a faltering voice, answered upon his arraignment, '* Not Guilty." The petit jury were hardy, honest pioneers, wearing moccasins and side knives. The evidence occupied but a single day, and was positive, closing every door of hope to the prisoner. The Prosecuting Attorney read the statute creating and affixing the punishment to the homicide, and plainly stated the substance of the evidence. He was followed for the prisoner, in able, eloquent, and powerful speeches, appealing to the prejudice of the jury against the Indians; relating in glowing colors the early massacrees of white men, women and children, by the Indians ; reading the principal incidents in the history of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton ; relating their cruelties at the battle of Blue Licks and Bryant's Station, and not forgetting the defeat of Braddock, St. Clair and Harmar. General James Noble closed the argument for the State in one of his forcible speeches, holding up to the jury the bloody clothes of the Indians, and appealing to the justice, patriotism and love of the laws of the jury, not forgetting that the safety of the settlers might depend upon the conviction of the prisoners, as the chiefs and warriors expected justice to be done. The speech of the General had a marked effect upon the crowd, as well as the jury. Judge Wick charged the jury at some length, laying down the law of homicide in its different degrees, and distinctly impressing upon the jury that the law knew no distinction as to nation or col^' ; that the murder of an Indian was equally as criminal in law as the murder of a white man. The jury retired, and next morning brought into court a verdict of " guilty of murder in the first degree," motion for a new trial overruled. The prisoner brought into court, and sentence of death pronounced in the most solemn manner, by Judge Wick. The time for the execution was fixed, as is usual, for a distant day. In the meantime Hudson made his escape irom the guard one dark night, and hid himself in a hollow log in the woods, where he was found and arrested.

Time rolled on, the fatal day for the execution arrived, multitudes of people were there. Among them were seen several Senecas, relatives of the murdered Indians. The gallows was erected, just above the Falls, on the north side. The people covered the surrounding hills, and at the appointed hour, Hudson, by the forfeiture of his life, made the last earthly atonement for his crimes.

Such was the result of the first case on record in America, where a white man was hung for killing an Indian. The other cases were continued until the next term of the court, and will bo the subject of a distinct sketch.

Trial Of Sawyer

Monday morning came. Court met. Judge Eggleston, in fine health, on the bench in the center; Adam Winchel on his left and Samuel Holliday on his right, Moses Cox at the Clerk's desk, Samuel Cory on the Sheriff's platform and Col. John Berry, Captain of the guard, leaning against the logs. The grand jury were called, sworn and charged, and court adjourned for dinner. In the afternoon, the evidence of the main witness was heard. I had prepared the indictments in my office and had them with me. The foreman signed the bills on his knee, and they were all returned into court before the adjournment. That night. Col. John Johnston, the Indian Agent, called at my room and offered me $100 on behaif of the United States. I informed him that I was a State officer and could not accept the money, however tempting it might be under other circumstances.

The court met in the morning. We agreed to try Sawyer first for shooting one of the squaws. The prisoner was brought into court by the Sheriff. He appeared so haggard and changed by his long confinementj that I scarcely knew hiai. The court room was crowded. Gen. James Noble,. Philips Sweetzer and myself for the State ; James Rariden,. Lot Bloomfield, William R. Morris and Charles H, Test,. for the prisoner. Judge Eggleston - " Sheriff, call the petit jury." Judge Winchel - Sheriff, call Squire Makepeace on the jury, he will be a good juror; he will not let one of these murderers get away." Judge Eggleston, turning to Judge Winchell : " This will never do. What ! the Court pack a jury to try a cajntal case ?" The jury was soon impanneled. The evidence was conclusive that the prisoner had shot one of the squaws at the camp with his rifle after the killing of Ludlow and Mingo by Harper and Hudson in the woods. The jury were a hardy heavy-bearded set of of men, with side knives in their belts, and not a pair of shoes among the whole of them ; all >vorc moccasins.

Mr. Sweetzer opened for the State with a strong matterof-fact speech ; that was his forte. He was followed in able speeches by Mr. Morris, Mr. Test and Mr. Rariden, for the prisoner. General Noble closed for the prosecution, with a powerful speech. The General was one of the strongest and most effective speakers before a jury, or a promiscuous assembly, I have ever heard. The case went to the jury under an able charge from Judge Eggleston and court adjourned for dinner.

At the meeting of the court in the afternoon the jury returned a verdict of "guilty of manslaughter," two years nard labor in the penitentiary. Mr. Rariden sprang to his feet, " If the Court please, we let judgment go on the verdict, and are ready for the case of Sawyer, for killing the Indian boy at the camp." "Ready for the State." The same jury were accepted by both sides - being in the box. They were immediately sworn. The evidence was heard again conclusive against the prisoner. General Noble opened for the prosecution, and was followed by Charles H»

Test, William R. Morris and James Rariden, with powerful speeches. The jury were referred to their verdict in the the previous case, and their judgment warmly eulogized. This was, by arrangement, my case to close. I saw my position, and that the only point I liad to meet, was to draw the distinction between the two cases, so as to justify the jury in finding a verdict for manslaughter in the one case, and of murder in the case before them, In law there was no difference whatever. They were both cold-blooded murders. The calico shirt of the murdered boy, stained with blood, lay upon the table. I was closing a speech of an hour. Stepping forward, I took up the bloody shirt, and holding it up to the jury : " Yes, gentlemen of the jury, the cases are very different. You might find the prisoner guilty of only manslaughter, in using his rifie on a grown squaw ; that was the act of a man, but this was the act of a demon. Look at this shirt, gentlemen, with the bloody stains upon it; this was a poor, helpless boy, who was taken by the heels by this fiend in human shape, and bis brains knocked out against a log ! If the other case was manslaughter, is not this murder?" The eyes of the jury were filled with tears. Judge Egglestou gave a clear and able charge upon the law. The jury, after an absence of -only a few minutes, returned a verdict of "murder in the first degree." The prisoner was remanded, and Court adjourned.

The next morning the case of Bridge, Sr., for shooting a little Indian girl at the camp, was called. The prisoner entered with the Sheriff. He was more firm in his step and looked better than Sawyer, though a much older man. A jury was impanneled. The proof was positive. The case was argued by Mr. Morris and Mr. Rariden for the prisoner, and Sweetzer and myself for the State. The charge was given by Judge Eggleston, and after a few minutes' absence the jury returned a verdict of " murder in the first degree." The only remaining case - of the strippling,

Bridge, Jr., for the other Indian boy at the camp - came on next. The trial was more brief, but the result was the same - verdict of murder in the first degree, with a recommendation, however, to the Governor for a pardon, in consequence of his youth, in which the Court and bar joined. The trials closed. Pro forma motions for new trials were overruled, the prisoners remanded, to be brought up for sentence next morning, and the Court adiourned.

Morniug came and with it a crowded Court House. As I walked from the tavern I saw the guards approaching with Sawyer, Bridge, Sr., and Bridge, Jr., with downcast eyes and tottering steps, in their midst. The prisoners entered the court room and were seated. The Sheriff commanded silence. The prisoners rose, the tears streaming down their faces, and their groans and sighs filling the court room. I fixed my eyes upon Judge Eggleston. I had heard him pronounce sentence of death on Fuller, for the murder of Warren, and upon Fields, for the murder of Murphy. But here was a still more solemn scene. An aged father, his favorite son and his wife's brother - all standing before him to receive sentence of death. The face of the Judge was pale, his lips quivered, his tongue faltered, as he addressed the prisoners. The sentence of death by hanging was pronounced, but the usual conclusion, " And may God have mercy on your souls," was left struggling for utterance.

The time for the execution was fixed at a distant day ; but it soon rolled around. The gallows was erected on the north bank of Fall creek, just above the falls, at the foot of the rising grounds you may see from the cars. The hour for the execution had come. Thousands surrounded the gallows. A Seneca chief, with his warriors, was posted near the brow of the hill. Sawyer and Bridge, Sr,, ascended the scaffold together, were executed in quick succession, and died without a struggle. The vast audience were in tears. The exclamation of the Senecas was interpreted - " We are satisfied." An hour expired. The bodies were taken down and laid in their coffins, when there was seen ascending the scaffold Bridge, Jr., the last of the convicts. His step was feeble, requiring the aid of the Sheriff. The rope wasadjusted. He threw his eyes around upon the audience and then down upon the coffins, where lay exposed the bodies of his father and uncle. From that moment his wild gaze too clearly showed that the scene had been too much for his youthful mind. Reason had partially left her throne and he stood wildly looking at the crowd, apparently unconscious of his position. The last minute had come, when James Brown Ray, the Governor of the State, announced to the immense assemblage that the convict was pardoned. Never before did an audience more lieartily respond, while there was a universal regret that the executive mercy had been deferred to the last moment. Thus ended the only trials where convictions of murder were ever had, followed by the execution of white men, for killing Indians, in the United States.

Sketch Of Anderson

Anderson, the county seat of Madison county, is located on the south bank of White river, some sixty feet above low water mark. It derived its name from an Indian chief of the Delawares, and was originally an Indian village of some note. It was consumed by fire by order of General Harrison in 1813. Near it were the lodges, or villages, of Bucktown, Nanticoke and Greentown. About the year 1819 or 1820 a few pioneers arrived here and found quite a remnant of the above tribe of Indians. They also found an almost unbroken wilderness and but little to encourage them to remain. Among those who first arrived were William Allen, John Berry, Alford Makepeace, Samuel Corry, N, Berry and William Curtis. This infant band was joined in a few years by the following : Joseph Howard, G. T. Hoover, Dr. Wyman, R. N. Williams, J. M. Zeke, C. D. Henderson and Andrew Jackson. About the years 1828 and '30 they were joined by W. G. Atherton, W. B. Allen, Oren Toddhunter, John Davis, William Beard and Dr. Ryan. In 1838 the town was incorporated, and about that time the county seat was permanently located here, and a bright future was then manifest for Anderson. When the Bellefontaine Railroad became a fixed fact in 1851, it began to improve rapidly; and now in 1874, Anderson ranks among the most rapidly increasing county seats in the State.

AVith its two finished railroads and others in progress, numerous pikes, water power, productive country, fast multiplying machineries, and steady increase of population, we may well be proud of our county seat. The population of Anderson in 1840 was three hundred and fifty ; in 1850 it was three hundred and eighty-two; in 1860 it was one thousand one hundred and sixty-nine; in 1870 it was three thousand one hundred and twenty-six; in 1874 estimated five thousand. Among the first merchants were Connor Makepeace, Willis G. Atherton, H. and R. Woster, and Calverton Cray craft. The first hotel was kept by John Berry. Among the first physicians were Henry Wymau, Andrew Robb and J. W. Westerfield. The first blacksmith was Mr. Bane. The first lawyers were C. D. Henderson, R. N. Williams, Seth Smith, John Davis, N. R. Lindsday, William R. O'Neal and Richard Lake. Anderson contains five churches, three hotels, two depots, two brick seminaries, and Masonic and Odd Fellow lodges. The following are among the principal business firms and mechanics : Dry goods merchants, Lee M. Trees, A. A. Siddall, S. M. Hodson & Co., W. H. Learned, Wm. Bell, Scott & Williams, D. C. East. Grocers, D. H. Patterson, R. M. Burns, (grocer and baker, Martha Shinu), Kline & Sharp, E. H. Seward, J. W. Ware, E. B. Hartley, P. & M. Skehan, N. Berry, O. W. Huston, D. W. Campbell, (grocer and baker, Charman & Lee), Neph Coffin. Druggists, Brandon & Lee, G. W. Brown, Henderson & Searl, Elden Pearce. Hardware merchants. Makepeace & Nichol, John P. Barns. Agricultural

F. Wildman. Music teacher, Mrs. R. M. Harriman. Lumber dealer, M. Atherton. Barbers, David Carpenter, George W. Johnson. Below will be found the names of the physicians, past and present ; also the names of the attorneys ; also a statement of the city officials.