Ashland City (part 35 of 57)

Nearly all the pioneer gatherings wound up, after supper, with a dance, in which the old joined as well as the young. When a fiddler could not be obtained, music was furnished by some one blowing on a leaf, or by whistling ''daneing tunes.'' This dancing was more vigorous than artistic, perhaps, for there were vigorous people in those days, effeminacy not becoming fashionable until later years.

The pioneers were industrious people. The situation required the men to chop and grub, and clear the land ere they could plow and sow and reap. And the women had to spin and knit and weave and sew in addition to their household work. Upon one occasion a minister's wife was telling about her day's work, that in addition to making a pair of pantaloons and a bed-tick, ''I've washed and baked and ironed six pies today."'

Wool had to be carded into rolls by hand, and after it was spun into yarn and the varn woven into cloth, the flannel had to be thickened or fulled to make ; This necessitated ''fulling'' or ''kicking'' parties, bared feet and rolled up trousers sat in rows at each side. Then the women poured strong hot soapsuds on the web, while the men kicked it vigorously, making the white foam of the suds fly over. both kickers and attendants. This pouring and kicking lasted an hour or two, after which supper was served after the fashion of the times.

Carding and fulling mills and spinning and weaving factories came later, served their purpose, and their time, and now they, too, are gone, and now people can go to'stores and get ''hand-me-down"' suits, without asking or caring where or how they were made.

While there were many social amusements in the early times, religious devotions were not neglected. As there were but few church buildings, camp meetings were frequently held during the summer months. While the Methodists and ''Brethren'' took the lead in these outdoor gatherings, the Christians (Disciples) held similar convocations, one of which was at the Bently spring, south of Mansfield. At that meeting Captain James Cunningham was baptized by immersion by Elder McVay. This was the first baptism by that denomination in Ashland county.

Camp meeting trips were enjoyable to both old and young. The roads to these ''camps'' often ran by sequested farms and through shady woodlands, where the rays of the sun shimmered through the leafy treetops, and the fragrance of the June flowers sweetly perfumed the morning air.

At last glimpses of white tents could be seen, forming a semi-circle and surrounding an amphitheatre of rude seats in front of a pulpit canopied by the boughs of trees. At the camp, visitors were received with cordial greetings. - for the ''campers'' had the warmth of friendship in their hearts and of Christian zeal in their souls, and their frank, unstudied manners and winsome ways were favorable preludes to the services that were to follow.

At these camp exercises some of the worshipers became quite demonstrative for the personal manifestations of joy or devotion differ as much as our natures differ. No two persons give expression in precisely the same terms to any human experience; the law of temperament forbids it. Religion ean come to you only in aceordance with your nature, and you can respond to it only in the same way.

Singing was a prominent feature of the religious services. It was the old-fashioned singing, such as our dear old mothers sang, and although faulty, perhaps, in note, came from the heart and went to the heart. The singing' of today may be more artistically rendered, but it is the old-time tunes that comfort us in our sorrow and sustain us in our trials. as they come back to us in sweet remembrance from the years that are past.

A Salt-Boiling Incident

In the early history of Ohio salt boiling was conducted wherever there were saline springs. Generally two or three men would join fortunes, erect a rough cabin and build a furnace near a saline spring, and there spend weeks, perhaps months, boiling salt in the wilderness.

One of these establishments was owned and operated by a rough, mischievous fellow by the name of Miller, who was always ready for a joke, no matter how severe, or at whose expense. While Miller and his two associates in the enterprise were seated around the great roaring furnace one morning, a stranger, lean and lank, having every symptom of a genuine Vermonter, approached on horseback, and asked permission to leave his pack saddle and other traveling appendages in their care, while he should spend the day in hunting. The favor being cheerfully granted, he dismounted, left his saddle, and wandered off in quest of deer.

As soon as the new comer was fairly out of sight, Miller, who looked upon him as an intruder, determined to annoy him; and as a convenient method of testing the calibre of the stranger he threw his pack saddle into the furnace, where it was soon reduced to ashes. Towards evening the hunter returned, and on very deliberately making, inquiry for his saddle was told the less he said about that the better, otherwise he might share the same fate. The remark was accompanied by a significant look towards the fire, which instantly suggested to the indignant stranger the whereabouts of his saddle. | However, he said nothing and was soon on his homeward way.

In a few days he returned once more, seeming in a fine humor, and brought a new pack saddle, which he left in Miller's care, as before, charging him emphatically not to burn that one, or else there would be a noise about it. Of course the warning not to touch the saddle was more than Miller was wilting to bear, and he resolved to repeat the experiment as soon as the stranger should start on his day's hunt. No sooner had he turned his back upon the furnace than Miller called after him, ''Look-a-here, mister! I'll show you who's a goin' to do the orderin' round here,'' and into the fire went the saddle with a will! But in a moment the huge kettles, the walls of the furnace, and everything thereunto pertaining, were scattered in one universal wreck, the hot fluid sprinkling freely over the unsuspecting heads of the salt boilers, and the clouds of hissing steam completely blinding them for awhile, thus affording the revengeful stranger opportunity to make good his escape, which he did without the formality of bidding his victims good bye! The truth flashed upon Miller's mind about as soon as the hot ashes flashed in his face: the pads of the new pack saddle had been stuffed with gunpowder.

Facts Versus Fiction

The book entitled ''Philip Seymour, or Pioneer Life in Richland County,''. written by the Rev. James F. McGaw, is a work of fiction and is not a history. It only claims to be a ''romance founded on facts.''? The Rev. McGaw was a minister of the Wesleyan denomination and at the time of writing that romance was a resident of Washington village, Washington township, Richland county. The story was written for the old Mansfield Herald newspaper, and appeared as a serial in 1857. The events narrated in the work are true in the main, but the characters introduced are partly mythical, while others are given fictitious

In 1799 Frederick Zeimer came with his family, wife and seven children, from Maryland to Ohio and entered one-half of section 27, in Washington township, Pickaway county. He was a man of means and after getting considerable land upon which he established his married sons, he removed to Richland county, with his wife, youngest son, Philip, and daughter Kate, and entered a quarter section of land in the Blackfork valley, now in Mifflin township, Ashland county, where the terrible tragedy, narrated in this work, occurred September 10, 1812. At the close of the war of 1812, Philip returned to his former home in Pickaway county, and later sold the Richland county land to Michael Culler, the deed for which was executed May 1, 1815, before Thomas Mace, a justice of the peace in and for the county of Pickaway, Ohio.

On the 2d day of April, 1815, Philip Zeimer was married to a Pickaway county girl named Betsy Valentine, whose family was a prominent and numerous one of that county. Their marriage is recorded in the probate court records at Cireleville. Philip and Betsy Zeimer were the parents of five children, three sons and two daughters, all now deceased. Philip's wife died in 1836, aged forty-eight years and seven months. Philip died August 8, 1850, aged sixtyfive years. The foregoing are facts from historical records, from the muniments of their estates and from monuments erected to their dead.

The man who was said to be engaged to Kate Zeimer was Jedediah Smith, who came and entered land in Washington township, Richland county, Ohio, in 1812. Mr. Smith, in looking for land, as MeGaw's story goes, was directed by Johnny Appleseed to the Zeimer cabin, where he met and fell in love with Kate. MeGaw gives Mr. Smith in his romance the name of Henry Martin. Mr. Smith was at his old home in Washington county, Pennsylvania, when the Zeimers were killed by the Indians, and did not return to Ohio until 1816; he married some years later and lived to an advanced old age.

The Billy Bunting in the McGaw story was Levi Bargahiser, who became a wealthy farmer in Sharon township, Richland county, where he died December 26, 1868, aged seventy-seven years. While he may have had some peculiarity of speech, he did not lisp as McGaw represented, and neither did he marry an Indian. His wife's maiden name was Susanna Eshelman, whose family lived in Licking county, Ohio. A daughter of Mr. Bargahiser married the late J. C. Skiles, at one time a commissioner of Richland county. Some of the Bargahisers yet live near Shelby.

McGaw's work was a very interesting one and in book form passed through three editions. The copyright for the same is owned by A. J. Baughman, of Mansfield. The story is a very absorbing one, as it graphically depicts and portrays pioneer life and conditions, but it should not be taken seriously as a history of the county.

Early Incidents

There are many incidents which are difficult to classify and yet which were events that left their impress upon the history of the county and deserve to find a permanent place in the early records. One of these was

The Copus Massacre

As the dawn of Tuesday morning, September 15, 1812, approached, the nine soldiers, true to their promise, left their couches of hay at the barn and went to the cabin. As they grouped around the door, amber streaks darted into golden rays in the eastern sky, heralds of the coming day. The troops, no doubt, recalled the red-flamed sky of the preceding sunset and were thankful that the night -was being succeeded by the glorious hght of another day, so beautiful in its aerial aspect that one might have imagined it presaged the resurrection and looked for angels to appear and proclaim that ''Time was, time is, but time shall be no more,'' but it was the angel of death that was soon to claim four of that little band.

Mr. Copus, still apprehensive of danger, cautioned the soldiers to be on their guard, but they laughed at his fears and, leaning their muskets against the cabin, went to the spring, a few rods from the house, but ere they had finished their lavations the Indians came upon them with demoniacal yells, and - 'On the right, on left, above, below, sprung up at once the lurking foe.'"'

And forty-five painted savages, armed with muskets, tomahawks and scalping knives rushed upon the unarmed soldiers and a scene of carnage, of butchery and death ensued. When the attack was made Mr. Copus hastily seized his rifle and went to the door and as he opened it, a ball fired by an advancing savage passed through the leather strap that supported his powder horn and entered his breast, inflicting a wound from which he expired within an hour.

When fired upon, being unarmed, the soldiers fled in different directions ; two attempted to reach the forest upon the hillside for protection, but were pursued by the Indians, were overtaken, murdered and scalped. Their names were John Tedrick and George Shipley. A third, named Warnock, was shot through the bowels, but went some distance and, becoming weak from loss of blood, sat down.by a tree and died. He had stuffed his handkerchief into the wound to stop the flow of blood. His body was found several weeks afterward in a sitting posture.

Five of the soldiers who were nearer the cabin got inside safely, but the sixth, named George Dye, was not so fortunate and was shot through the thigh as he entered the door and George Launtz was shot in the arm, a short time later, while removing a chink to make a port hole in the wall.

The scene within the cabin was pathetically dramatic. He, who an hour before stood as the protector of the family, now lay in the throes of death, his erief-stricken wife and seven children grouped about the bedside and as the hil of this just man took flight, the mother, as the center of that little band of mourners, was seen to gaze upward, heavenward, as if in prayer commending her fatherless children to Him who tempers the winds to the shorn lamb and who alone can bind up the broken heart.

But they had to soon turn from the dead and assist the soldiers in their defence of the cabin. Early in the contest, Nancy Copus, aged fifteen, was shot above the knee, inflicting a painful wound. The children were then placed upstairs for greater safety and that was but poor, for a number of the Indians were upon the hillside in front of the house and kept up an incessant firing upon the roof of the cabin, until the clapboards, it was said, afterwards presented almost a sieve-like appearance. And nearly all that forenoon the battle raged and the deadly lead was fired not only upon the roof, but upon the walls, windows and door of that home and the yells of the murderous savages were enough to daunt the bravest heart.

The few soldiers within made a heroic defence. They fired through portholes and their aim was often unerring as a number of the redskins were seen to fall to rise no more. After five long hours of murderous assault from outside and of valiant defence from within, the awful contest ended by the Indians retreating. taking their dead with them, and firing a parting volley into a flock of sheep which had huddled together in terror near the barn.

After the Indians had disappeared, one of the soldiers got out upon the roof of the cabin and cautiously glanced around and, seeing no foe, climbed down and went to the Beam blockhouse for assistance. About one o'clock Captain Martin and his squad of soldiers, who had been expected the night before, arrived upon the scene two hours after the battle had ended, but before assistance had time to come from the blockhouse. Captain Martin, not seeing any Indians in his reconnoitre the day previous and not expecting any trouble at the Copus home had bivouacked for the night at the Ruffner cabin, near where Mifflin now stands and three and a half miles north of the Copus settlement.

During the forenoon, Captain Martin thought he heard firing, but supposed the troops below were at target practice. When Martin and his troops arrived at the scene of the tragedy, they were appalled at the horrible spectacle that met their view. Attention was given to the wounded and the dead were buried.

An attempt was made to track the Indians and it was thought they went east, but as they had three hour's start they were not pursued. The bodies of Copus, Tedrick and Shipley were buried in one grave a few rods from the cabin and a monument now marks their grave. .

Stretchers were made upon which to carry the wounded and the march of the whole party to Beam's blockhouse was commenced. As it was late in the day when the start was made, they only went a short distance until they stopped for the night. By that time the number of the party had increased to about a hundred, and pickets were thrown out to guard against surprise. The march was resumed the next morning, the route being up the valley to Mifflin, thence west along a trail now known as the Mansfield-Wooster road, and then down to the Beam blockhouse, the distance being about thirteen miles, where they arrived in safety in the evening.

Several weeks afterwards a squad of soldiers, accompanied Henry Copus, a son of James Copus, to the cabin, and on the way, some distance from the house, they discovered the missing soldier (Warnock) sitting against a tree dead. They buried him near where he was found. They also found the bodies of two Indians, which were left to their fate.

Mrs. Copus and children remained in the blockhouse about two months and were then taken to Guernsey county where they lived until the close of the war, when they returned to their home on the Blackfork and where Mrs. Copus reared the family and lived to a good old age, beloved and respected by her neighbors and friends. Sarah Copus, the daughter, became Mrs. Vail, and lived to be present at the unveiling of the monument, September 15, 1882, erected to the memory of her father and the soldiers who were killed in-that awful tragedy at that humble cabin in the wilderness, September 12, 1812.

Among the incidents of the fight, it is stated that Copus and an Indian fired at each other simultaneously, the former receiving a mortal wound and the latter being killed instantly. Copus did not fall when he was shot, but staggered back across the room to a table, from which he was assisted to the bed. He told his wife that he could not live and that she would have to rear the children as best she could.

A number of times while the battle lasted the savages tried to take the cabin by storm, but the soldiers had taken the precaution to barricade the door and windows with puncheons removed from the floor.

George Launtz, the soldier who had an arm broken by a bullet, caught sight of an Indian peeping around a tree and, taking deliberate aim, fired and had the satisfaction of seeing the savage bound into the air and then roll down the hill, dead. Another redskin, who had been shot, fell in the yard. His groans were heard as he attempted to crawl away, but a well directed bullet from the cabin put an end to his suffering.

Forty-five scoopouts where fires had been were afterwards found in the cornfield, where the Indians had roasted corn and from that it was taken that there had been forty-five savages in the assault. Of that number nine were carried away by the Indians when they retreated, which, with the two bodies found later, made their loss eleven killed and wounded.

The same day of the Copus battle, the cabins of Newell, Cuppy and Fry, farther east, were burned and the Indians, who attacked the Copus family, were supposed to have been the incendiaries, as they went in that direction. Those families were at the Jerometown blockhouse.

After the close of the war a number of Indians returned to this county. Sarah Copus, the girl who had seen the Indians lurking around the day before the attack was made on their home, did not seem to be in favor with the savages.

Going to the hill beyond the spring one day after the family had returned from Guernsey county, she saw one hiding behind a tree. She ran towards the house, the Indian pursuing her almost to the door. They said the girl ''knew too much'? was too observant of them and their actions.

Tom Lyon, an ugly old redskin of the Delaware tribe, in a conversation with Mrs. Cond in 1816, admitted he knew all about the attack on their cabin, but denied that he took part in it.

After the times became more secure the settlers returned to their homes, but affairs were more or less troublous until the close of the war.

Story Of Kanotche

The principal object of the Indians in killing the Zeimers was plunder. Frederick Zeimer was wealthy, as wealth was rated in the pioneer times, and it was supposed that he kept considerable money in the house. The news of the massacre soon spread over the country. Although there was neither telegraph nor telephone in those days, yet news spread and flew -

In the clanish days of Scotland, whenever a chieftain, upon a sudden emergency, wished to summon his clansmen, a swift and trusty bearer was sent with a '*fiery-cross'' and ran with it to the next hamlet, and it was from there taken by relays until the news and summons were spread from district to district. Ways and means to send news from one place to another have been devised and used in all ages of the world, and the pioneers were as resourceful in this respect as they were vigilant and brave in the defense of their country and their homes, and the news of the Zeimer massacre flew as upon the ''wings of the wind,'' and the settlers were soon aroused to a sense of the dangers which environed them.

Upon news being received at Wooster that three suspicious-acting Indians had been seen in the vicinity of Odell's Lake going eastward, with the Tuscarawas county as their probable destination, Captain Mullen's militia company was ordered out and pursued them, and arrived at New Philadelphia the day after the Indians had been captured.

Soon after the report of the Zeimer massacre had been received at New Philadelphia, it was learned that three Indians, supposed to be the Zeimer murderers, had been seen going down the Shoenbrun trail, whereupon Captain McConnell called out the New Philadelphia militia, and traced and followed the redskins down to Fern Island, where they were captured and taken to New Philadelphia and lodged in jail.

As Captain Mullen's Wooster company was approaching New Philadelphia from the west, John C. Wright, then a Steubenville lawyer, rode into town on horseback from the east. He saw an excited crowd of people on the public square, and upon inquiry, Sheriff Henry Laffer explained the situation to Mr. Wright, that the Indians who had murdered the Zeimers were confined in the jail, and that a company of militia from Wooster was then coming down High street to wreak vengeance upon his prisoners. Judge Wright, looking at the case from a legal standpoint, declared that the prisoners should not be punished without a trial. He suggested to Sheriff Laffer that an alarm be sounded and the citizens called out. To this Sheriff Laffer replied that the people were so excited and exasperated over the news of the massacre that he feared they would side with the soldiers and put the Indians to death. ''Is there no one to stand by you to prevent such a murder?'' inquired Judge Wright. ''None but Captain McConnell, who captured them,'' replied the sheriff. He also added that one of the Indians, Kanotche, had admitted that he was the slayer of Kate Zeimer, which had still further incensed the people against the prisoners. The three men, Wright, Laffer and McConnell, took their stand at the jail door and declared if the prisoners were taken, it would be over their dead bodies. Parley, threats, entreaty and remonstrance ensued, but the men retained their position. Finally, Captain Mullen ordered his men to fire upon them, but this they refused to do. The militia company finally gave way and abandoned the project of lynching the murderers.

The Indians were kept in jail until Governor Meigs instructed Lieutenant Shane, then recruiting for the United States army, to take the Indians with his men to the rendezvous at Zanesville. From Zanesville, the Indians were taken to the western part of the state, where under the terms of a cartel, they were released as prisoners of war, the charge of murder not being placed against them. While enroute from Zanesville to the west, the Indians and their military escorts stopped over night at Newark, where an attempt was made to poison the prisoners. -On account of the atrocities and murders committed by the redskins, an avenging feeling had been aroused against them. The attempt to poison them at Newark was made principally on account of Kanotche, the avowed slayer of Kate Zeimer.

John C. Wright, who figured so conspicuously in this New Philadelphia incident, was later a judge of the supreme court of Ohio, and served in congress from 1823 to 1839. He died in February, 1861, while a delegate to the peace congress in Washington. Judge Wright was for several years the editor of the Cincinnati Gazette. He wrote an interesting account of the capture of the Indians at Fern Island and the subsequent attempt to release and lynch them at New Philadelphia.

'©A short distance from the house they met Billy, who had come to see if help was needed, and took him a prisoner, but he escaped from them one night and by accident met Philip, who, after burying the body of his parents, sister and friends, had gone in search of revenge.

''Shortly after he had gone into the woods he met Kate's betrothed on his way to claim his.bride. Deep indeed was his grief at. the death of his love. He too, vowed vengeance. On the same night that Billy came to them they saw a light shining up from a deep ravine and on stealing up they saw three Indians sitting by the fire. Hach took his man, Billy taking the center one, for two of them were at the Seymour massacre and this one had tried to tomahawk him when he was taken prisoner. They fired together. Two fell over dead'and the other mortally wounded. After some time they went into the camp. The wounded Indian knew them and told Philip he had helped to kill his parents. The other of the two was the one who had killed Kate. On his fincer was her ring and by his side was her scalp."'

"A Moses who attempts to lead the public through a wilderness of history should be better informed and not flounder in a sea of inaccuracies. The above quotation shows that the writer is as ignorant of the facts as he is of the orthographer of the name Zeimer. If Kanotche had been killed, as stated by the writer of the article from which the quotations are taken, the New Philadelphia and Newark incidents could not have occurred. Judge Wright's statement is correct beyond a doubt and is fully substantiated by other historical accounts.

Billy Bunting remained at the Ruffner cabin all night the night of the Zeimer massacre, and when neighbors went to look for him the next morning they found him milking the cow, unaware that Mr. Ruffner had been killed. No Indians were killed in that vicinity, except the two at Zeimer's and those who fell in the Copus battle a week later, and Billy Bunting was not there at that time. ''Billy Bunting'' was Levi Bargaheiser, who afterwards became a prominent citizen of Sharon township, where he died December 26, 1868, aged seventy-seven years. ;

The man who was said to be engaged to Kate Zeimer - called Henry Martin by McGaw was Jedediah Smith, who came to Richland county and entered land in Washington township in the spring of 1812. A month or more before the Zeimer massacre, Mr. Smith had gone to his home in Washington county, Pennsylvania, and did not return to Ohio until 1816, and therefore could not have killed the slayer of Kate, as he was not here at the time.

As two of the five Indians were killed by Martin Ruffner at the time of the massacre, and three were captured a week later at Fern Island, none of the party was left in the Blackfork valley, and no Indian was killed there during the interim between the Zeimer massacre and the Copus battle.

While confined in the jail at New Philadelphia, Kanotche gave the particulars of the Zeimer massacre to Judge Wright and Sheriff Laffer. Kanotche had wonderful descriptive powers, considering his limited knowledge of the English language, and narrated the incidents of the bloody tragedy with dramatic effect. He was one of the most cruel, revengeful and vindictive of his tribe. Instead of feeling remorse over his bloody deeds, he took delight in narrating them. After the removal of the murderous trio to the west, it was stated that Kanotche met his death by the hands of one of his own race.

The Campaign And Sad Fate Of Colonel William Crawford

The Rey. Joshua Crawford, now pastor of the Methodist church at Perrysville, contributes the following sketch of the campaign and cruel death of his late kinsman, Colonel William Crawford.

""My attention has been called to an article concerning the exact spot where stood the stake at which Colonel William Crawford was burned by the Indians in 1782. I can throw no new light on the subject and only know it was by the Big Tymochtee, near a grove. I have never visited the place, but presume the grove has long since disappeared and every landmark save the lay of the land and the stream. It is reasonable, however, that those who from long residence nearby have kept a tab on the spot should make a much better guess than those unfamiliar with it. I am not a descendant of Colonel Crawford, but belong to his kindred, the family lines coming together in his grandfather five generations back of myself. His tragic death has been much talked of in the numerous Crawford circles. There are a few legendary tales of the battle which are somewhat different from written history, especially from 'Dodridge's Notes' as transcribed in Howe's Historical Collections of Ohio. There were several members of the Dye and Leet families among the troops who intermarried with the McIntires and Bradens, ancestors of my mother, and some of whose descendants yet live southeast of Galion; and also with the Hiskeys, who once resided south of Lexington, in Richland county. It is said that Major Leet differed with the other officers of the council of war held the night the retreat commenced. He proposed that instead of returning over the same route they had come they should cut through the enemy's lines, go southward to a point somewhere in the present Marion county, then turn eastward and strike the Owl Creek trail and take that to the forks of the Muskingum, now Coshocton. and from thence over the route of Bouquet's army to Mingo Bottom. The council decided against him. Leet was self-willed unto stubbornness and when the retreat was ordered, his command being a part of the rear, he, with ninety men, broke away from the main body, carried out his project and reached the place of rendezvous before the others. Young John Crawford, the son for whom the Colonel went back to search was with this ninety and got home safely.

''Tf this be true it solves the mystery of how Crawford and Knight were soon lost from the army for he kept on expecting to meet other troops and thus went too far. It is not known where Crawford was captured, but it was not, as some conjecture, near the place where the battle of the Olentangy was fought. It would have been sure death for them to have followed in the wake of the army, hence, after proceeding northward for a few hours they turned, going eastward in a straight line as nearly as possible. They may have been captured somewhere in Vernon township, Crawford county. It is probable one more day of travel would have brought them to the track of the returning troops. They would have struck the old trail leading from Mohican Johnstown to Mohican Johns Lake, ( Lake Odell) near which the main body encamped on the night of the 7th of June.

''"Wor many years public opinion has done Crawford and his army great injustice, seeming to regard the expedition as a wild and reckless raid without other motive than revenge and bloodshedding. To say that these brave men, 'hoped to murder the Moravian Indians before their beligerent friends could take up arms in their defense,' is false. To say that 'it was rash and undertaken and conducted without sufficient forces to encounter with any prospect of success the Indians of the plains,' is a reflection on the wisdom of those who planned the «ampaign. " had the management of the war against our Revolutionary Fathers saw fit to hire savages to annoy our frontier and even condescended to pay a stipulated price for American scalps. They made Detroit a center to supply the Indians with arms and all other munitions of war and kept there a body of troops under Major De Peyster whose only purpose was to aid their savage allies. Under this inhuman stimulus the Indians made the whole frontier from Oswego, New York, to the mouth of the Great Kanawha, Virginia, red with the blaze of burning cabins and the blood of innocent and peaceable settlers. There was scarcely a mile in that long stretch that had not witnessed some horrid deed of massacre. The fagot and scalping knife were spreading terror everywhere. Something had to be done to relieve this dreadful situation. An unauthorized foray had gone to Gnadenhutten and wreaked a bloody revenge on those Christian Indians. It was wrong and I blush at the shameful cruelty of the affair, and yet I assert that these Indians were not half as innocent and lamblike as some prejudiced writers try to make them appear. The village was full of treacherous spies and even blood stained garments of massacred people were hidden there, and some of them died defiantly singing war songs instead of Christians hymns.

''The stronghold of Indians, (paid allies of Great Britain) was the region of Upper Sandusky. It was a strategetical point, because it was at the head of canoe navigation of both the Ohio river and the Great Lake regions. Supplies could be transported from Detroit through the lakes and up the Sandusky to a point where the portage was only two miles from thence over the Scioto to all the waters of the Ohio. The Crawford campaign was planned by General Irvine and submitted to General George Washington and received his approval. The design was to surprise and destroy or force a treaty from the Indians of this region before English help could reach them and thus put a check upon their cruel forays. That Gnadenhutten might not be repeated Colonel Crawford was chosen leader, with the understanding that the troops be permitted to vote for a leader, but if their vote had given it to Williamson the militia would have'been sent home and the expedition temporarily abandoned. It was planned in secret and here was the fatal mistake. There were Tory sympathizrs on the frontier and even before the troops gathered at Mingo Bottom, British spies had carried the news to Indian runners posted along the border who hurried to every Indian village of the northwest and to Detroit. General Irvine had not caleulated on the swiftness of these Indian runners nor the promptness of England to send aid to her savage allies.

'"When Crawford reached the Upper Sandusky country there were not less than five hundred Indians and one hundred and fifty British troops ready to meet him and others pouring in every hour. Simon Girty, an ingrate white man but an: Indian commander of no mean ability, and Captain Caldwell of the British army were on hand to plan the battle. A wooded knoll, since called Battle Island, was the key of the situation which was captured by Crawford's men after a sharp conflict. The enemy made several strenuous attempts to retake it but were sorely repulsed.

'*T shall not describe the battle for you readers are familiar with the details. It's Crawford legends of which I wish to write. There are many tales of the losses on each side. Captain Caldwell reporting to Major De Peyster, says: "My lossess were very inconsiderable, one ranger killed and myself and two others wounded, and four Indians killed and eight wounded.' He estimated the American losses in killed and wounded at two hundred and fifty. Let me say right here that Crawford's army consisted of four hundred and eighty men, the finest marksmen in America.

"'Being militiamen, they may have lacked in military consistency but they were not wanting in cool headed bravery, knowledge of Indian warfare and perfect marksmanship. They were not defeated nor demoralized. The only time of confusion was during the first few hours after the retreat commenced, when Indians and British opened a rapid fire in both front and rear. The fact that they fell back in two bodies one of ninety and the other of three hundred men, is evidence that they were not panic stricken and the enemy did not capture any except isolated parties and these isolations were probably due to Leo's disobedience of orders. The total loss of the Americans did not exceed seventy men and members of the troops even contended that they inflicted a heavier loss on the enemy than their own.

""Leet, a scout, (not the Major) who had afterward married a Dye, told his children many times that when Battle Island was first taken fifteen dead Indians were found; and he further said the next day he saw Girty riding back and forth among the Indians greatly excited while they were carrying away the dead and wounded. He also said that during the retreat when Butler's rangers and some mounted Indians were making dashes to cut out stragglers he saw three white men fal] from their saddles who did not rise again. When the last, dash was made near the Olentangy when Lieutenants Rose and Gunsaulus had placed a body of Americans in ambush and had-sent out a few men to act as stragglers and decoy the foe, when the enemy came dashing up, he said in all his war experience he had never seen so many saddles emptied in so short a time. The last little fight so severly punished the enemy that they did not fire another shot at the main body but contented themselves with picking up stray parties.

'*T do not know what percent of the Dye, Leet and Braden tales are exaggeration but I am sure that when the British and Indians undertook to retake the position they had lost that the unerring marksmen of the frontier did not send them back unpunished. Neither would they allow themselves to be hectored from daylight until two or three p. m. by an exulting foe and not occasionally empty a saddle. Crawford's men never admitted that they were defeated in battle and boasted that they would have made short work of the one thousand Indians, but it was the certainty of four hundred English bayonets and the boom of coming artillery that convinced them of the necessity of retreat.

'' Another story I have heard is that in 1806 when the surveyors were busy laying off the lands of Wayne and Richland counties, Mrs. Hannah Crawford, widow of the colonel, visited the spot where her husband was burned and at that time there was no grass growing upon it. Her guide was Billy Crawford, said to be a nephew of her husband. My informant says she stayed over night with his grandmother, Mrs. Allison, in Harrison county, and a man by the name of MeBride was her escort from there home.

'Another legend claims that friends and relatives of Colonel Crawford swore uncompromising revenge against every Indian who helped handle the fagots that tortured him and that they carried this oath out to the letter. That they were with Harmer, St. Clair and Wayne marking these Indians and shooting them at every opportunity and even made a hunt on the banks of the Sandusky for this bloody purpose. It 1s said the last one was shot in Holmes county in time of peace. Here is the Story:

'"An Indian once came to a tavern in Killbuck, where under the influence of liquor he boasted that he was present at the burning of Colonel Crawford and said that after the Big White Chief had fallen that he and several other Indians jumped on him and cut his heart out and he had eaten a piece of the raw heart, and, smacking his lips, said it tasted good. Billy Crawford heard this boast and when the Indian left he followed him. Billy afterward admitted that he had killed him near Holmesville and buried the body and gun in a pile of stone. Years afterward the body was found, but such was the sympathy of the people for those who suffered from Indian outrages that nothing was ever thought about it. '

'*Society in those days had been worked up to a fearful spirit of revenge. Men had suffered under Indian outrages until their natures became fierce and drove out that high sense of human love taught by the Savior, and they went forth, guns in their hands, to hunt and shoot Indians as though they were wolves or bears.''

The Zeimer Massacre

At the northern limit of Blackfork settlement in the year 1812 there lived a Pennsylvania German named Martin Ruffner. The Ruffner cabin stood about a mile northwest of Mifflin and about a half mile west of Staman sawmill on the Ruffner run. Ruffner had in his employ a German boy who is known by the historical sobriquet of ''Billy Bunting.'"

The Zeimer cabin was further down the valley and nearer the old Indian village of Greentown. The cabin stood on an elevation near a fine spring of pure water and a clear babbling stream. All was forest then except the clearings in which the cabins stood. The Zeimer family at that time consisted of Frederick Zeimer and wife, their son Philip and their daughter Kate.

A few days after the burning of Greentown, a party of Indians was seen by Billy Bunting sitting on a log between the Ruffner and Zeimer cabins. They inquired if Ruffner and Philip were at home. Billy told them that Ruffner was at home and that Philip was at his home. The Indians started toward the Zeimer cabin, and Billy hastened to inform Ruffner what had transpired. Ruffner took his rifle and deployed around the Indians, reaching the Zeimer cabin in advance of the savages. A consultation was held. Philip suggested that he had better go and inform the settlers further down the valley and secure their assistance. Ruffner first objected to this, thinking that if Philip remained and they were attacked they could kill the savages themselves. Finally, it was agreed that Philip should go and inform James Copus, John Lambright and other settlers of the approach of the Indians and ask them to return with him. As the settlers lived several miles apart, it took Philip some time to make the trip. As the Indians were afraid of Ruffner, it was not thought they would attack the family while he was there.

Soon after Philip had left the house the Indians arrived, and seemed surprised at finding Ruffner there. The Indians had frequently been at Zeimer's, especially Kanotche, who had tried to shoot Philip the day before, claiming he was shooting at a bear. The savages seemed sullen, evincing that their call was not a friendly one. For some time a desultory conversation was held at intervals, but finally the actors to the impending tragedy sat and eyed each other in silence, conflicting emotions, no doubt, passing through the mind of each. Ruffner, the valiant German, sat like a Trojan soldier between the helpless family and their savage foes. They seemed to suspect the cause of Philip's absence, and would cast glances at each other and then at Ruffner, who had his eyes riveted upon them, watching them closely.

Finally, when suspense could be bourne no longer, the Indians sprang to their feet with a yell of demoniacal fury, and made a rush at the brave Ruffner, who shot his foremost assailant dead, and clubbing his rifle, felled another prostrate to the floor. As he struck at the third, he accidently hit the stock of his rifle against a joist, and the Indians, taking advantage of the mishap, fired upon him, two shots taking effect, either of which would of itself have been fatal. They dragged the body of the dying man into the yard, and inhumanly removed his scalp ere he expired.

At the beginning of the assault Kate fainted. When she regained consciousness she realized that Ruffner had been killed, and, seeing them assault her aged parents, she again fell in a swoon, unconsciousness kindly veiling from her sight the horrible spectacle. I, too, would fain turn a page rather than further prolong this story of blood, but history is remorseless and must be written whether its narration brings smiles or tears.

When Kate recovered and realized the awful butchery that had been committed, her grief gave vent in heart piercing shrieks and lamentations whose intensity should have reached the calloused hearts of even those inhuman savages. But instead she was ordered by her relentless foes to give them her father's money and the valuables of the family, and as she complied with their demand, her bethrothal ring was rudely taken from her finger. But they did not then spare her life, for Kanotche, raising his tomahawk, buried it in her brains, and she fell upon the hearth, mingling her life's blood with that of her parents.

The account of this tragedy was given some time later by Kanotche himself while he was confined as a prisoner in the jail at New Philadelphia.

The principal motive which led to the murder of the Zeimers was that of robbery, as they were regarded as quite wealthy and were known to possess considerable money.

When Philip returned with his party, nature had already thrown her sable mantle of night over the valley. Except for the occasional hooting of an owl there was almost death-like stillness. No breath of wind stirred the leaves of the forest, and the stars shown with a pale, flickering light.

As the party neared the cabin no light was seen and all was quiet and still within. After a consultation, Mr. Copus advanced alone to the rear of the house and tried to peer through its four-light window, but nothing could be seen in the darkness within. He then cautiously crept upon his hands and knees around to the front of the building, and finding the door ajar, endeavored to push it further open, but found something against it like a body, on the inside. He then placed his hands through the opening of the door and found that the floor was covered with blood. '

Returning to the party, he thought it best not to tell Philip what he had discovered, fearing that the Indians might still be in the house waiting the son as return. Enjoining silence he led them quietly away, and when at a safe distance, told them he feared the family had been taken prisoners, and that they had better go to the blockhouse for assistance.

Philip's anxiety for the safety of the family made him want to rush recklessly inside the house to learn their fate, but his friends restrained him and the weary, groping walk through the darkness to the blockhouse was commenced. A halt was made at a Mr. Hill's, where the town of Lucas now stands, and upon the break of day they proceeded to the Beam blockhouse on the Rocky Fork, where the first settlement in the county was made, and there got a detachment of troops and some settlers, who accompanied them back to the Zeimer cabin, where they found the dead and mutilated body of the brave Ruffner in the yard, and those of the family inside the house.

The grief of Philip was so great that many of the strong men present were moved to tears by witnessing his sorrow. Father, mother and 'sister all gone, and he left alone ! Would that he had shared their fate with them, was his wish. Kind friends tried to console him, while others dug graves and performed the last office that the living can do for the dead. They then returned to the blockhouse.

Philip gave his service to his country during the remainder of the war. Several years later he sold the farm to a Mr. Culler, whose descendants own it today, and upon the site of the ill-fated cabin a monument now stands, erected to the memory of the Zeimer family and Martin Ruffner who fell in their defense.

The Indians who committed these crimes were stragglers from the Greentown tribe, who returned for rapine and murder. Of the five who constituted the party, Ruffner killed two, whose bodies were carried away, as was the custom among the Indians, and the three survivors were afterward captured about five miles below New Phliadelphia, on what is now called Fern Island, a picnic resort on the C., L. & W. railway, near the Royal Clay works. The exciting and sensational events which followed their capture will be given later on.

Kate Zeimer was described by the writer's father, who lived a few miles further down the valley and often saw her, as being a beautiful girl, a brunette, rather stout in build, and of a cheerful disposition. She was engaged to be married to a man who lived near her former home in the east.

The month of September is regarded by many as being the most charming of the year. The hazy halo of the atmosphere with its languorous warmth are conducive to day dreaming. And there were days of dreaming, no doubt, for the beautiful Kate whose betrothed lover was soon to come to claim her as his bride. Days of roaming in the leafy forest or rowing upon the crystal lake; days of watching the crimson sunset shining redly through the darkness of the branches and glittering away as golden threads to a paradise too sweet to name; days when love seemed to fill the air and make music sweet in the rustle of the leaves; days when Kate wondered vaguely whether she was not dreaming happy dreams, dreams too enhancing to last, and they were for instead of bridal robe, the winding sheet was soon to be her habiliment.

The news of the murder of the Zeimer family caused the settlers to go to the blockhouse for safety, and nearly every cabin was left tenantless, and the country was filled with alarm, and not without cause, for other deeds of blood were soon to follow.

Pursuit And Capture

The massacre at the Zeimer cabin aroused the feelings of the people, not only in Richland, but in other counties, almost to frenzy and companies were organized at Wooster, New Philadelphia and other places to protect the settlers.

Of the five Indians who committed the Zeimer-Ruffner murders, two had been killed by the heroic Ruffner in his defence of the Zeimer family ere he himself fell in the murderous assault of the savages. Some weeks later the three surviving Indians of that murderous gang, after having been seen lurking near Odell's lake, were captured at Fern Island, five miles down the Tuscarawas river from New Philadelphia.

The Tuscarawas is, perhaps, the most poem-inspiring river in the state. It courses through one of Ohio's most fertile valleys with an ease and grandeur that is both restful and inspiring. As rays of light shine upon its dark waters they reflect emerald tints as though the bottom was paved with precious stones.

But the Indians had not sought that locality for its romantic beauty, nor because the waters of the Tuscarawas were wont to dazzle one with their diamond-like gleams, but for the protection the dense forests of that secluded isle would give them. The mark of Cain was upon them and the avenging Nemesis was following their trail. In that forest-embowered isle stood armies of ferns with nodding plumes and crimson falchions and among these the tired savages lay down to sleep.

Captain McConnel, hearing that Indians were upon the Island, marched his company over the ''Plains'' and when the destination wag reached he left his men on the bank and swam his horse across the eastern branch of the river and, surprising the redskins, took them prisoners. On reaching the company with his prisoners, some of the men suggested that the Indians should be put to death. ''Not until they have a trial according to law,"' said the captain. The prisoners were then marched up past the old site of Shoenbrun, to New Philadelphia and there incarcerated in jail.

When the news of this capture reached Wooster the excitement there became intense and Captain Mullen marched his company to New Philadelphia to take summary vengeance upon the captives.

Henry Laffer, then sheriff of Tuscarawas county, called upon the citizens to turn out and protect the prisoners, which they refused to do. John C. Wright, an attorney from Steubenville, was in town, and volunteered his services to the sheriff. Mr. Wright was afterwards the judge of the court of that circuit. Captain McConnel, Sheriff Laffer and Mr. Wright pleaded with the attacking party for the lives of the Indians and declared if the prisoners were molested it would be after they had walked over their dead bodies.

The .attack was finally abandoned and the company returned to Wooster. While in jail there, Kanotche made a confession to the sheriff, detailing the Zeimer-Ruftner murder, and the part he took in the same, admitting that.he had killed Kate and that the principal motive for the crime was robbery. The other prisoners did not confess and Kanotche refused to either implicate or exonerate them.

The Indians were kept in jail until Governor Meigs arrived in New Philadelphia, when they were turned over to the military authorities and were conducted by Lieutenant Shane of the regular army to the western part of the state, where, under the terms of a cartel, they, as prisoners of war, were released, the charge of murder not being placed against them.

While enroute, Lieutenant Shane, with his troops and prisoners, stopped over night at Newark, where an attempt was made by two recruits to buy drugs to poison the Indians, which shows the deep-seated feeling then existing against them on account of the atrocities and murders they had committed.

Returning again to the Blackfork settlement, to the locality where James Copus lived, on the east side of the stream, about midway between Mifflin and the old Indian village of Greentown, we are upon the memorable grounds where the sanguinary conflict took place between a large party of attacking Indians and Mr. Copus and a " corporal's guard'' of soldiers. As we look about the place the various scenes of that bloody battle come up from the history of the past like a panoramic view before us. But few can walk indifferent and unmoved over fields of bloodshed and strife and the lapse of time only serves to enhance the memories of other years. And these are heightened by the thought that the relatives of many of our neighbors and friends shared in those conflicts.

Of the old-time families and their descendants of that historic neighborhood, the names of the following are recalled: Solomon Vail, William Kuntz, G. H. Mowry, A. Bowen, Samuel Wilson, Mr. Syler, Manuel Charles, George Bittinger, Philip Culler, Sebastian Culler, Mrs. Martha King, Harrison Hoover, W. Milligan, John Simpson, Simon Whitemyer, Mrs. Barrick, Curt Greenewald, William Lattimer, Mr. Giffen, Mrs. Harland and A. Milligan, the latter owning and residing on the Copus place.

The name Zeimer was pronouunced by the Pennsylvania German settlers something like Zemer, and McGaw, in his romance, changed it to Seymour. The government deed was to Philip Zeimer and when the land was transferred to Mr. Culler, the deed was signed by Philip Zeimer and Elizabeth Zeimer, his wife.

Philip Zeimer married a Pickaway county woman soon after the close of the war, and the deed for the land in Richland (now Ashland) county, was executed May 1, 1815, before Thomas Mace, a justice of the peace in Pickaway county.

Captain James Cunningham, who had charge of the troops at the burial of the Zeimers, dispatched couriers in all directions to inform the settlers of what had oceurred and to advise them to go to the blockhouses for protection. Captain Cunningham took in situations intuitively and was prompt and intrepid in action. He was the son of an Irishman who served in the Revolutionary war and helped to consecrate the battle field of Brandywine with his blood.

While our German citizens are no less brave and might more tenaciously hold a fort or endure a siege, the Irish have that dash and daring which wins applause and their bravery is equaled only by their chivalry. Moore, the great Irish poet, paid a deserved tribute to the honor of Erin's sons in his ballad, which is as immortal as it is beautiful:

All the settlers of the Blackfork, James Copus and family included, had taken refuge in the blockhouses. But Mr. Copus soon became restless of confinement in the Beam blockhouse and wanted to return home. He believed the Indians were all gone, but if any were lurking around, he felt confident they would do them no harm as he was their friend. When he stated that he intended to return to his cabin Captain Martin, the commandant at the blockhouse, protested against him taking such a step and told him he would endanger the lives of himself and family by doing so. Mr. Copus was a man of decided opinions and on the morning of the fourth day after the Zeimer murder, started with his wife and seven children to their forest home, a detail of nine soldiers going 'with them. Captain Martin, who was going out with a scouting party, promised to call and spend the night there. Finding no trace of the Indians and reconnoitering farther than they had intended to go, they did not get to the Copus home until noon the next day, too late to avert the fate that had fallen upon that household.

When the Copus party had arrived at the cabin they found things undisturbed, with the stock grazing in the fields. |The soldiers indulged in athletic sports during the day and, seeing no signs of Indians, felt no uneasiness for the safety of the family. However, Sarah, the twelve year old daughter of Mr. Copus, going into the field for potatoes for dinner, saw some Indians lurking there. This she did not tell, knowing her father did not believe they were near and, being a very strict man, would punish her for trying to raise an alarm.

As evening drew near, the sun gave a strange, weird aspect to the sky that seemed ominous of ill. Its rays melted into a transparent sheen that stretched over both hill and valley, casting a foreboding aspect upon the earth, which was remembered and commented upon in after years by those who witnessed the phenomenon.

Mr. Copus became apprehensive of danger and insisted upon the soldiers sleeping within the cabin, but, the night beink warm, they preferred the barn, a few rods distant, but promised to come to the cabin at the morning's dawn.

As the night advanced, Mr. Copus' fears increased and the intervening hours were weary, sleepless, restless ones, and he told his family of his forebodings of dangers. Except the barking of the dogs, silence reigned without, but the death angel hovered over the valley.

Historical Sketch Of The Life And Work Of

Upon the occasion of the unveiling of the monument erected to the memory of Johnny Appleseed, in the Sherman-Heineman park at Mansfield, Ohio, November 9, 1900, A. J. Baughman, secretary of the Richland County Historical Society, and the author of this work, gave an address on the work, life and death of John Chapman, commonly called ''Johnny Appleseed."''

John Chapman was born at Springfield, Massachusetts, in the year 1775. Of his early life but little is known, as he was reticent about himself, but his half-sister who came west at a later period stated that Johnny had, when a boy shown a fondness for natural scenery and often wandered from home in quest of plants and flowers and that he liked to listen to the birds singing and to gaze at the stars. Chapman's passion for planting apple seeds and cultivating nurseries caused him to be called '' Appleseed John,'' which was finally changed to "' Johnny Appleseed,'' and by that name he was called and known everywhere.

The year Chapman came to Ohio hag been variously stated, but to say it was one hundred years ago would not be far from the mark. An uncle of the late Rosella Rice lived in Jefferson county when Chapman made his first advent in Ohio and one day saw a queer looking craft coming down the Ohio river above Steubenville. It consisted of two canoes lashed together, and its crew was one man - an angular, oddly dressed person - and when he landed he said his name was Chapman, and that his cargo consisted of sacks of apple seeds and that he intended to plant nurseries.

Chapman's first nursery was planted nine miles below Steubenville, up a narrow valley, from the Ohio river, at Brilliant, formerly called Lagrange, opposite Wellsburg, West Virginia. After planting a: number of nurseries along the river front, he extended his work into the interior of the state - into Richland county - where he made his home for many years. He was enterprising in his way and planted nurseries in a number of counties, which required him to travel hundreds of miles to visit and cultivate them yearly, as was his custom. His usual price for a tree was a ''fip penny-bit,'' but if the settler hadn't money, Johnny would either give him credit or take old clothes for pay. He generally located his nurseries along streams, planted his seeds, surrounded the patch with a brush fence, and when the pioneers came, Johnny had young fruit trees ready for them. He extended his operations to the Maumee country and finally into Indiana, where the last years of his life were spent. He revisited Richland county the last time in 1843, and called at my father's, but as I was only five years old at the time I do not remember him.

My parents, (in about 1827-35), planted two orchards with trees they bought of Johnny, and he often called at their house, as he was a frequent caller at the homes of the settlers. My mother's father, Captain James Cunningham, settled in Richland county in 1808, and was acquainted with Johnny for many years, and I often heard him tell, in his Irish-witty way, many amusing anecdotes and incidents of Johnny's life and of his peculiar and eccentric ways.

Chapman was fairly educated, well read and was polite and attentive in manner and was chaste in conversation. His face was pleasant in expression, and he was kind and generous in disposition. His nature was a deeply religious one, and his life was blameless among his fellow men. He regarded comfort more than style and thought it wrong to spend money for clothing to make a fine appearance. He usually wore a broad-brimmed hat. | He went barefooted, not only in the summer, but often in cold weather, and a coffee sack, with neck and armholes cut in it, was worn as a coat. He was about five feet nine inches in height, rather spare in build but was large boned and sinewy. His eyes were blue, but darkened with animation.

For a number of years Johnny lived in a little cabin near Perrysville (then in Richland county), but later he made his home in Mansfield with his halfsister, a Mrs. Broome, who lived on the Leesville road (now West Fourth street) near the present residence of R. G. Hancock. The parents of George C. Wise then lived near what is now the corner of West Fourth street and Penn avenue and the Broome and Wise families were friends and neighbors. George C. Wise Hiram R. Smith, Mrs. J. H. Cook and others remember ''Johnny Appleseed"' quite well. Mrs. Cook was, perhaps, better acquainted with "'Johnny'' than any other living person today, for the Wiler House was often his stopping place. The homes of Judge Parker, Mr. Newman and others were ever open to receive ''johnny'' as a guest.

But the man who best understood this peculiar character was the late Dr. William Bushnell, father of our respected fellow townsman, the Hon. M. B.

Bushnell, the donor of this beautiful commemorative monument, and by whose kindness and liberality we are here today. With Dr. Bushnell 's scholastic attainments and intuitive knowledge of character he was enabled to know and appreciate Chapman's learning and the noble traits of his head and heart.

When upon his journeys Chapman usually camped out. He never killed anything, not even for the purpose of obtaining food. He carried a kit of cooking utensils with him, among which was a mush pan, which he sometimes wore asa hat. When he called at a house, his custom was to lie upon the floor with his kit for a pillow and after conversing with the family a short time, would then read from a Swendenborgian book or tract, and proceed to explain and extol the religious views he so zealously believed, and whose teachings he so faithfully carried out in his everyday life and conversation. His mission was one of peace and good will and he never carried a weapon, not even for self defense. The Indians regarded him as a great '' Medicine Man,'' and his life seemed to be a charmed one, as neither savage man nor wild beast would harm him.

Chapman was not a medicant. He was never in indigent circumstances, for he sold thousands of nursery trees every year. Had he been avaricious, his estate, instead of being worth a few thousand might have been tens of thousands at his death.

''Johnny Appleseed's'?' name was John Chapman - not Jonathan - and this is attested by the muniments of his estate, and also from the fact that he had a half-brother (a deaf mute) whose Christian name was Jonathan.

Chapman never married and rumor said that.a love affair in the old Bay state was the cause of his living the life of a celibate and recluse. Johnny himself never explained why he led such a singular life except to remark that he had a mission, which was understood to be to plant nurseries and to make converts to the doctrines taught by Emanuel Swendenborg. He died at the home of William Worth in St. Joseph township, Allen county, Indiana, March 11, 1847, and was buried in David Archer's graveyard a few miles north of Fort Wayne, near the foot of a natural mound. His name is engraved as a senotaph upon one of the monuments erected in Mifflin township, Ashland county, this state, to the memory of the pioneers. Those monuments were unveiled with imposing ceremonies in the presence of over six thousand people September 15, 1882, the seventieth anniversary of the Copus tragedy.

During the war of 1812 Chapman often warned the settlers of approaching danger. The following incident is given: When the news spread that Levi Jones had been killed by the Indians and that Wallace Reed and others had probably met the same fate, excitement ran high and the few families which comprised the population of Mansfield sought the protection of the blockhouse, situated on the public square, as it was supposed the savages were coming in force from the north to overrun the country and, to murder the settlers.

There were no troops at the blockhouse at the time and as an attack was considered imminent, a consultation was held and it was decided to send a messenger to Captain Douglas, at Mt. Vernon, for assistance. But who would undertake the hazardous journey? It was evening, and the rays of the sunset had faded away and the stars were beginning to shine in the darkening sky, and the trip of thirty miles must be made in the night over a new cut road

A volunteer was asked for and a tall, lank man said demurely: ''I'll go.'' He was bareheaded, barefooted and was unarmed. His manner was meek and you had to look the second time into his clear, blue eyes to fully fathom the courage and determination shown in their depths. There was an expression in his countenance such as limners try to portray in their pictures of saints. It is scarcely necessary to state that the volunteer was ''Johnny Appleseed'? for many of you have heard your fathers tell how unostentatiously '"'Johnny"' stood as "'a watchman on the walls of Jezreel,'' to guard and protect the settlers from their savage foes.

The journey to Mt. Vernon was a sort of a Paul Revere mission. Unlike Paul's, ''Johnny's'' was made on foot, barefooted, over a rough road, but one that in time led to fame.

'"'Johnny'' would rap on the doors of the few cabins along the route, warn the settlers of the impending danger and advise them to flee to the blockhouse. Upon arriving at Mt. Vernon, he aroused the garrison and informed the commandant of his mission. Surely, figuratively speaking, for so expeditiously was the trip made that at sunrise the next morning troops from Mt. Vernon arrived at the Mansfield blockhouse, accompanied by ''Johnny"' who had made the round trip of sixty miles between sunset and sunrise.

About a week before Chapman's death, while at Fort Wayne, he heard that cattle. had broken into his nursery in St. Joseph and were destroying his trees, and he started on foot to look after his property. The distance was about twenty miles and the fatigue and exposure of the journey were too much for his physical condition, then enfeebled by age; and at the eventide he applied at the home of a Mr. Worth for lodging for the night. Mr. Worth was a native Buckeye and had lived in Richland county when a boy and when he learned that his oddly dressed caller was '' Johnny Appleseed'' gave him a cordial welcome. ''Johnny'' declined going to the supper table, but partook of a bowl of bread and milk,

The day had been cold and raw with occasional flurries of snow, but in the evening the clouds cleared away and the sun shone warm and bright as it sank in the western sky. ''Johnny"' noticed this beautiful sunset, an augury of the spring and flowers so soon to come, and sat on the doorstep and gazed with wistful eyes toward the west. Perhaps this herald of the springtime, the season in which nature is resurrected from the death of winter, caused him to look with prophetic eyes to the future and contemplate that glorious event of which Christ is the resurrection and the life. Upon reentering the house, he declined the bed offered him for the night, preferring a quilt and pillow on the floor, but asked permission to hold family worship and read, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven,'' '' Blessed are the pure in heart, remembered by that family. He prayed for all sorts and conditions of men; that the way of righteousness might be made clear unto them and that saving grace might be freely given to all nations. He asked that the Holy Spirit might guide and govern all who profess and call themselves Christians and that all those who were afflicted in mind, body or estate, might be comforted and relieved, and that all might at last come to the knowledge of the truth and in the world to come have happiness and everlasting life. Not only the words of prayer, but the pathos of his voice made a deep impression upon those present.

In the morning Chapman was found in a high state of fever, pneumonia having developed during the night, and the physician called said he was beyond medical aid, but inquired particularly about his religious belief, and remarked that he had never seen a dying man so perfectly calm, for upon his wan face there was an expression of happiness and upon his pale lips there was a smile of joy, as though he was communing with loved ones who had come to meet and comfort him and to soothe his weary spirit in his dying moments. And as his eyes shone with the beautiful light supernal, God touched him with His finger and beckoned him home.

Thus ended the life of the man who was not only a hero, but a benefactor as well; and his spirit is now at rest in the Paradise of the Redeemed, and in the fullness of time, clothed again in the old body made anew, will enter into the Father's house in which there are many mansions. In the words of his own faith, his bruised feet will be healed, and he shall walk on the gold-paved streets of the New Jerusalem of which he so eloquently preached. It has been very appropriately said that although years have come and gone since his death, the memory of his good deeds live anew every springtime in the beauty and fragrance of the blossoms of the apple trees he loved so well.

''Johnny Appleseed's'' death was in harmony with his unostentatious, blameless life. It is often remarked, ''How beautiful is the Christian life;'' yea, but far more beautiful is the Christian's death, when ''the fashion of his countenance is altered,'' as he passes from the life here to the life beyond.

What changes have taken place in the years that have intervened between the ''Johnny Appleseed'' period and that of today! It has been said that the lamp of civilization far surpasses that of Aladdin's. _ Westward the star of empire took its way and changed the forests into fields of grain and the waste places into gardens of flowers, and towns and cities have been built with marvelous handiwork. But in this march of progress, the struggles and hardships of the early settlers must not be forgotten. Let us not only record the history but the legends of the pioneer period; garner its facts and its fictions; its tales and traditions and colleet even the crumbs that fall from the table of the feast.

Today, the events which stirred the souls and tried the courage of the pioneers seem to come out of the dim past and-glide as panoramic views before me. A number of the actors in those scenes were of my ''kith and kin'' who have long since crossed ''over the river'' in their journey to the land where Enoch and Elijah are pioneers. while I am left to exclaim:

While the scenes of those pioneer days are vivid to us on history's page, future generations may look upon them as the phantasmagoria of a dream.

At seventy-two years of age, forty-six of which had been devoted to his self-imposed mission, John Chapman ripened into death as naturally and as beautifully as the apple seeds of his planting had grown into trees, had budded into blossoms and ripened into fruit. The monument which is now to be unveiled is a flitting memorial to the man in whom there dwelt a comprehensive love that reached downward to the lowest forms of life and upward to the throne of the Divine.

At the close of Mr. Baughman's address, the monument was unveiled, after which a quartet sang ''Onward and Upward.'' The exercises closed with the singing of '' America.''

An Estate Of Johnny Appleseed

Alexander Finley, in his lifetime, sold to John Chapman what is estimated to be three acres, in the southeast corner of the southwest quarter of section 26, being in the quarter originally entered by said Finley, and which is now owned by A. J. Young, and forms part of the little town of Lake Fork. This land was deeded to Chapman by Finley, but the deed was lost, though recorded, and the tract never transferred on the auditor's books. For some time the land was in the possession of the Finley heirs by whom the taxes were regularly paid. Later a Mr. Young came into possession of the property, and some contension arose later about the ownership of the same. Chapman had made slight improvements and had started a small nursery.

The Murder Of Thomas Urie

In 1816 Mr. Urie and his brother Thomas were on a hunting excursion through the eastern part of Ohio, and established their camp between New Philadelphia and Cadiz. The brothers, in pursuit of their game, had become separated during the day. Thomas had succeeded in killing a bear, the skin of which he was conveying, toward evening, to the camp, which he had nearly reached. Solomon was also making his way in the direction of the camp, driving before him his horses, which had been belled and spancelled. When within hearing distance of the camp, his ears were greeted with a sound similar to that of a double crack of rifles, or of the falling of two trees. Knowing that hostile Indians were in their neighborhood, as they had unmistakable evidence during the night before, he considered it prudent to lead his horses and reach his camp by another route. On approaching, he discovered two Indians in his camp, plundering it of its contents, while a third stood upon the outside as sentinel. He raised his rifle with the intention of shooting the Indian on the outside; but before he could fire, his brother's dog commenced barking and his position and attitude were discovered by his enemy.

- In the rear of Solomon was a swamp, but comprehending that it would be an unsafe retreat, he boldly pushed forward to the assault of the sentinel. The latter ran, dodging behind trees, with the view of protecting himself and gaining an opportunity for shooting his antagonist. Mr. Urie pressed forward, and in his course discovered the dead body of his brother. The three Indians pursued him about three miles to the brink of a precipice, down which, without a moment's hesitation, he descended; and, on reaching solid ground, discovered that the breech of his rifle was broken - the trigger of the lock, however, being uninjured. The Indians, on reaching the margin of the precipice, were so appalled at the height that they gave up the pursuit. Mr. Urie continued his journey, in the direction of the Ohio river, five miles, when he came to an encampment which, much to his agreeable surprise, contained, among its inmates, several of the Brady's and other Pennsylvania friends. He remained during the night, with his friends, and on the following morning the entire party returned with him to the late camp of himself and brother, and found the body of the latter covered with the skin of the bear he had killed on the day previous. One of his legs was stripped of its ''leggin'' and moccasin, and on the posterior part of his neck was a cross, indicating that this mode of warfare against the whites was to be continued. His body had been pierced by two bullets, doubtless fired by the rifles the sound of which Solomon had heard the evening before. The body was deposited in a grave made with wooden shovels, and in a coffin made of puncheons. The Indians had taken their two horses, forty deer, ten bear, and ten beaver skins, together with their entire stock of provisions and traps. Mr. Solomon Urie offered his friends the full property of which he had been despoiled, and an equal amount in addition, if they would aid him in their pursuit and infliction of summary punishment upon the murderers of his brother. They regarded the undertaking, however, as too hazardous, and declined the offer of Mr. Urie.

During the war of 1812, Mr. Urie and his son Samuel served in the army as volunteers, and in the fall of 1815 removed to land in Orange township, and upon which land he had previously made some improvements. His family, at this time, consisted of his wife and the following named children: Samuel, Thomas, Susan, David, Solomon, John, Elizabeth, George W. and James.

Mr. Urie brought with him to the country a couple of dogs, one of which, taking a dislike to the "'home of his adoption,'' made his way back to the old homestead, in Washington county, Pennsylvania, a distance of about one hundred and forty miles. This journey he performed, traversing the wilderness and swimming the rivers, in less than twenty-four hours.

A Band Of Outlaws

In the year 1825, a band of outlaws, locally called land pirates, under the leadership of John Driskel, made their principal headquarters in Green township, upon the farm later owned by John Taylor. They were the terror of the good people of Green and neighborhood, as they had previously been of the inhabitants of Columbiana and Wayne counties, where they had formerly resided, and where they had committed extensive depredations. | While in the first named county, the elder Driskel had an encounter with one of the Poe family, resulting in the loss of the tip of his nose, which added to his naturally repulsive features, gave him a marked and hideous countenance. . During his residence in Wayne county, but while the other families connected with the gang, hereafter mentioned, were living in Greeh township, he had been sentenced to the penitentiary, and effected his escape. A reward was offered for his recapture and return. His confederates were numerous, and scattered over a large district of territory; but John Driskel, his son Pearson, and his son-in-law Reeson Brawdy, and Aaron Brawdy, were among the most desperate; and they (when not professionally engaged) and their families made their headquarters on the place above mentioned.

Their principal crimes were horse stealing, incendiarism, and burglaries. They were men of great physical strength and brutal courage, and never omitted an opportunity to exercise these qualities. The boldness and frequency of their depredations had aroused intense indignation among the people of the neighborhood, and organized efforts were made to detect the haunts and effect a capture of the leaders. Among those most active and vigilant in securing this object were Jonathan Coulter and William Irvin, the former being generally engaged when one of the gang would be arrested, in prosecuting for the state, and the latter being constable of the township. The outlaws had offered, alternately, violent threats and large bribes in money to these and other like adversaries to secure their neutrality; but their firm resistance of all corrupt offers to compound felony, and their inflexible determination to either bring the culprits to justice or rid the country of their presence, brought upon them the concentrated malice of the entire gang, and a war of extermination became necessary to the security of life and property in the settlement.

The barns of Coulter and Irvin were fired during the fall of the year 1829, consuming several horses and large stocks of grain, hay, etc., and requiring all the energies of Mr. Coulter and family to prevent the flames from communicating with their house. Suspicions led to the arrest of Pearson Driskel, who was tried and sentenced to the penitentiary for the crime; although in the progress of his trial it appeared that he was only a particeps criminis, having employed a fellow known as ''Crop-eared Brawdy'' to accomplish the incendiary work.

Efforts were, some years later, made to arrest the elder Driskel, who, having effected his escape from the penitentiary, had been discovered, one December evening, near dark, by John Kidwell, in Mohican township, making his way, stealthily, on horseback, through the woods, in the direction of the dwellings of his son and son-in-law. The younger Driskel in the mean time had served his term in the penitentiary, and was at home. Kidwell, anticipating the destination of the old man, immediately set out on foot through the woods to communicate his discovery to the immediate neighbors of the outlaws. A force of five resolute men were assembled and proceeded to the suspected houses, which they reached at a late hour of the night and after a careful reconnissance of the premises discovered a new saddle hanging under the portico of young Driskel's cabin. This indicated that the fugitive was at that house, and three of the party led by Thomas W. Coulter opened the door and entered. They went to the fire place, and stirring the coals produced a light in the room. The inmates of the house had been in a profound slumber up to that time, and were awakened by the movements of the Coulter party. Their cries at once aroused the old man Driskel, who, springing from his bed, bowie knife in hand, stooped down and also seized his rifle, threatening with death every intruder who did not instantly leave the house. His order was instantly obeyed, the three men retreated and closed the door after them. Driskel stormed terribly and swore that he would not be taken alive, that he would rather be shot down at his home than to be returned to the penitentiary, and that he would sell his life as dearly .as possible.

It was a very cold night, and the party on the outside, suffering from the inclemency of the weather, determined to bring the scene to a close and told Driskel that they would give him five minutes in which to make his selection of surrender or death. He had several times tried to escape through the door, but confronted the officials. During these efforts to escape he had thrust his gun and arm through an opening in the doorway, when William Irvin seized the opportunity to deal a heavy blow with a club upon his exposed arm, which for the time paralyzed it. Four of the five men were armed with flintlock muskets, these being the best firearm in common use in those days, and the other had a pistol. Old Driskel was a little ahead of the times. He owned a pick-lock gun, percussion caps were not known in this country then, but old Driskel's nice gun had what were called ''percussion grains.'' These grains were about the size of a pin's head, and the pick striking down on one was what exploded the powder. The old man had his gun raised to fire at Mr. Rice, who was standing in front of the partly open door, when his son Pearson slipped his hand between his gun and the pick, thereby preventing the discharge of the gun, but receiving a wound upon his own hand. He once snapped his gun within four feet of the breast of David Ayres, and the latter aimed a pistol at the body of the culprit, but his weapon also missed fire. The five minutes having expired, the order to fire was given, and the result was four ''snaps'' and one ''flash.'' Ayre's pistol was a crack one, and in a few minutes its load was accidentally discharged. To obtain a better sight on the old man, the party began to push eut the '""chinking'' between the logs for the purpose of securing portholes for the muzzles of their guns, when the criminal yielded to the entreaties of his family, and announced his willingness to surrender. The men then entered the house and secured the limbs of the prisoner with a rope, committed him to the charge of two strong men, brothers, named Peterson, who, on the same morning, left with their charge for Columbus. Arriving at Sunbury, Delaware county, Driskel managed to make his escape, and thus terminated the career in Ohio of one of the greatest desperadoes that ever cursed this community. Driskel's family and confederates soon joined him in the west, where they continued their vocation of crime for some years. Later John Driskel, his son William and another of the gang were captured by a band of ''Regulators'' in northern Nilinois, and were immediately shot. The body of David Driskel, the youngest son, was soon afterwards found hanging upon a tree.

This gang was composed in part of some of the settlers and of some from a distance. Their depredations alarmed the neighborhood and gave rise to the formation of the ''Black Cane'' company.

the various neighborhoods wherein the land pirates had committed depredations and thefts. Each member of the Black Cane company carried a black cane. The canes were made of crab-apple or black haw wood, the bark being peeled off and the canes burned black, after which they were oiled and polished to give them a glossy appearance. By vigorous and vigilant work the company succeeded in clearing the country of the land pirates and peace and security reigned until about 1833 when similar services were again in need to clear the country of a band of counterfeiters.

The Steingraver Case

The first murder trial in Ashland county was that of Charles Steingraver, charged with the murder of Clarinda Vantilburg, a blind girl, aged ten years and two months. Steingraver was in the employ of Mr. Vantilburg as a farm hand, and on the 4th of July, 1851, the Vantilburg family went to Perrysburg, Ashland county, to attend a Sunday school celebration, leaving Steingraver and the blind girl at home. It was alleged that the killing was done in an attempt to commit a rape. Steingraver, however, claimed his innocence to the last.

At the September term of court, 1851, the grand jury found a '"'true bill,'' the seventh and eighth counts charged the aceused with murder in the first degree, by averring that he killed the deceased purposely and of deliberate and premeditated malice. The trial attracted a great deal of attention and aroused the morbid curiosity of the people to an unusual extent.

B. W. Kellogg, the prosecuting attorney, was assisted in the case by the Hon. Isaac J. Allen, who afterwards attained distinction as a journalist and diplomat. The accused was defended by John S. Fulton, of Ashland, and Jacob Brinkerhoff, of Mansfield. Mr. Brinkerhoff, as a member of congress from this district, was the author of the Wilmot Proviso and later served as a judge of the supreme court cf Ohio. He was a first cousin of General R. Brinkerhoff, of Mansfield.

The jurors in the said case were John McCormick, Ephraim C. Marks, Samuel White, Henry Demit, Isaac Hatch, Jacob Johnson, Jacob Bucher, Elisha Barnes, George Stott, Samuel Harman, James L. Drake, John Harman, who being duly impaneled and severally sworn to well and truly try and true deliverance make between the state of Ohio and the said Charles Steingraver, and a true verdict give according to the evidence, having heard the evidence adduced, the erguments of counsel and the charge of the court, upon their oaths aforesaid did find that Charles Steingraver was guilty of murder in the first degree, as charged in the indictment.

On the Monday following, before the full bench, Steingraver's attorneys made a motion for a new trial, which was over-ruled, whereupon the court sentenced Steingraver to be hanged on Friday, the 30th day of January, 1852, between the hours of twelve o'clock meridian, and two o'clock post-meridian, and that in case the sheriff of the county, by reason of his absence or inability to perform the execution, then for the coroner to take the said Steingraver to

The court decreed that in the meantime between the date of sentence and the time of execution that said Steingraver be confined in the jail of the county in charge of the sheriff.

Execution Of Charles Steingraver

The execution of Charles Steingraver took place on Friday, the 30th day of January, 1852, as ordered and directed by the court. Early in the morning immense numbers of the people were collecting from every section of the country some from a great distance, and directing their course to the execution ground, which was guarded by the military, who were called out for the purpose of suppressing any disturbance which might occur to mar the proceedings, or hinder the law from being peaceably enforced. By eleven o'clock a. m. there had congregated, it is supposed, from eight to twelve thousand persons; and we are sorry to state, that many of this immense assemblage gave evident signs of intoxication. It might therefore be submitted whether executing the extreme penalty of the law in this manner brings about the desired reform, viz., of suppressing the awful crime of murder.

Steingraver was led from his cell precisely at twelve o'clock, accompanied by the sheriff and five ministers. He marched from his place of confinement to the gallows under the solemn and impressive notes of the ''Dead March"' which were calculated to soften the most obdurate and hardened, and impress suitable reflections for the solemnities of death. He shed not a tear - he moved along with a firm and unfaltering step - ascended the scaffold with as little apparent regard for his hard fate as the ox for the slaughter.

His long white robe was calculated to rouse solemn reflections about the destiny of man and his long home, when he returns to his mother earth, and lies mouldering in the dust, wrapped in the slumbers of death - dreamless and quiet.

While religious exercises were taking place on the scaffold, his bearing was firm and unmoved. He knelt and listened to several appropriate and powerful prayers both in German and English, and not until the last prayer was being offered was he seen to shed a tear. He then wept - was much affected; but again braced up, rose with a firmness ill befitting his situation, and requested the sheriff to announce, as his dying words, that he was not guilty of the crime imputed to him. He then requested that the people be exhorted, in German and English, to avoid sins that were calculated to lead them into vice and eventually to ruin.