Clinton Township (part 11 of 18)

It must be premised that in any treatment of the history of Shelby County, it will be borne in mind that whatever is seen to-day to be admired, and whatever is experienced to be enjoyed, are the outgrowths of a wild and savage state, under the temporizing influences of the hand of toil, guided by the spirit of civilization.

At the advent of tiie pioneer, along the years from 1805 to 1812, the territory now comprised within the county limits was an unbroken and unpromising wilderness, inhabited by wild and savage beasts, and a wilder, perhaps more savage, man. Groaning beneath a weight of heavy timber and surplus water, which well might have wearied a continent, the soil was rich and fruitful if the sunshine could only reach and warm it. But first the timber must be cleared away, and even after that was done a waste of drowning water must be coaxed and courted to leave the old possessions, and seek an outlet to the sea. It was a herculean task, and called forth untried energies on the part of the pioneer. The courage, which amounted almost to desperation, of those original settlers may well awaken wonder, for it is almost impossible to conceive any inducement for their removal here from civilization, its comforts, luxuries, beauties, enjoyments, and associations, for the majority of the hardhanded, brave-hearted volunteers, who came to this wilderness to rear new homes and plant new institutions, were men who knew the sweets and delights of civilization and its fruits. They were almost uniformly of a superior type, men who had been men, men who were comfortably situated, and not the victims of penury and crime. They did not come to escape penury, for they never were its victims; they did not come to escape the penalty of crimes, for they abhorred crime; they did not come to seek hallowed associations, for these they left behind ; nor did thej- come to seek a life of ease, for their arrival here only marked the sunrise of their toil.

They came the self-constituted agents of their own destiny, the forerunners of civilization, the pioneers of progress, who, being able, were also willing to cope with the wildness of nature, and the savagery of nature's children, until gardens could be established in the wilderness, and temples of justice and education could be reared and dedicated in the midst of savagery, and the rapt wildness with which it stood hand in hand, each administering to the other's cruel needs.

Coming here those pioneers did not take to themselves licenses peculiar to new conditions, but subjugated those conditions, and subordinated their own lives and their very surroundings to the better ideas and principles which prevailed in the communities upon which they had turned their backs, and the associations of which they had renounced forever. Taking their fortune in their hands, and their destiny in their hearts, they burned the bridges behind them, and came to a new country to plant the seeds of civilization, and in the fulness of time to gather the flower of education, and reap the fruit of organized society.

They came, some in youth, some in manhood's prime, and some in manhood's decline. But they came with strong hearts and willing hands, whether standing to the sunrise, the meridian, or the sunset of man's estate in years. To them it was merely adventure, but he who to-day contemplates it in its fulness will call it courage and endurance of the very highest order.

Building letter than they knew, after all their best intentions and highest hopes, they built a society, with its concomitant institutions, upon the basis of the society they left, with the additional and significant prerogatives of youth and elasticity.

The}- came, not to amass fortunes in a day, for that dream had neither been indulged nor realized as yet in the new world. But they came, some in obedience to a restless impulse, and others under guidance of a spirit of foresight, which looked into the wilderness and saw it bloom, and blossom, and bear the fruits of civilization in the distant but approaching to-morrow, just in the same sense in which the sculptor looks upon the roughest block of marble, and sees an angel's form within, or the painter views the unbecoming, uncouth canvas, and sees a world of life, and thought, and beauty. . Encouraged by hope, impelled by will, and armed by endurance, they came the masters of themselves, and the born masters of the strange environment which they faced and defied. They came from different seats of comfort and delight to a common seat of ignorance and barbarism; from the presence of the temple of learning to the wigwam of the savage; from the organized institutions of right to the unorganized forces of might ; and yet they were Arm, and never for a moment faltered. The worshippers of principle in the old settlements, they continued that worship in the new, until right triumphed over might, and justice sat enthroned the goddess of the new world they had made, and of every home that little world contained. If the older communities enjoyed the privileges of the sanctuary of religion, they were early enjoyed even here; if old communities adored education, schools were established here; if old communities worshipped justice, here her temple was reared and dedicated, within the walls of which the scales were poised to the nicety of a feather's weight. '

Perhaps it was a rude culture which obtained for a time; perhaps it was a rude community, perhaps the temples of education, justice, and religion were rude, but above and below, within and without that rudeness, the spirit at its very best was manifested; that same Iwtter spirit which pervaded the parent communities, the spirit of progress, the spirit of growth and development which has since presided over the destiny of tiiis your native or adopted country, until by its thrilling, trilling impulses, by the resistless forward force it has given the years now gone, by the promise which it holds out to-day, by the rank it has given your county, it has proved the true spirit of growth, and raised from an inhospitable wilderness an organized society armed with the best forces of civilization which constitutes your proud inheritance, and at the shrine of which you may well stand abashed in wonder, and uncover your head in reverence.

It is this picture of contrast, growth, and energy which calls for delineation, and demands our careful study. It is the word painting of an area of territory with its various products and different eras, to which the succeeding pages are to be devoted. Thus far the county has largely yielded place to a general presentation of events, which sometimes remote in years, yet had a moulding influence upon the destiny of this community. Recognizing an unbroken line of events, tracing down from the period of the Revolution, and giving force and character to the settlement and development of this locality, the preceding portion of this work has been devoted to the presentation of that line of creative and modifying events. History has been defined " philosophy teaching by example," and this work, in botli its general and local departments, will be found replete with examples of energy, force, and foresight of the very highest order.

The rudest and most uncouth element has, perhaps, as great weight, and serves as an example equally good as the brightest and best life, if viewed in a philosophic manner. Ask a Chesterfield where he learned etiquette or good manuers, and 1 he replies, " from the unmannerly." Properly viewed, a man may learn virtue from vice, just as the world has learned liberty from tyranny, and justice from oppression. It is the study' of men wherein the good is to be adored and the had despised. If, then, in the examples heretofore and hereafter portrayed, - examples of beauty and deformity, - the children of to-day or to-morrow shall glean useful lessons of patriotism, justice, moderation, liberty, and morality, this work shall have fulfilled its mission, for, at the most, it dare only hope to entertain but not instruct the actors of yesterday, who are now facing the sunset of life. Pause, then, in the justifiable home pride you entertain to-day, and cast a backward glance to the dale of the organization of your county to the year 1819, and tell us what bow of promise could have arched the horizon of the founders of this county! As something of a habitation of civilized man, as something of a settlement of bold pioneers, it was already of some fifteen years' duration, but what did or could those years of struggling, almost helpless infancy accomplish !

The visible results were measured by scattered clearings, wearing yet the primitive cabin solitaire, and jewelled only by brush or log heaps sometimes glowing with genuine fire These marked the pathway of the restless sons of labor, who brought energy and perseverance to bear upon their wearying, wearing task. But the pioneer looked beneath the surface, and saw a bashful wealth, half hiding, half coquetting with its admirers. That soil in all its coyness revealed to the penetrating gaze of the pioneer a world of worth, and all his hopes and plans were founded upon the basis.wliich looks only to ultimate results. Combining a wealth of labor with a fertility of soil, he saw a promise bright enough to cheer him at his stubborn self-chosen obligations. His unbounded confidence in the future, and his willingness to work, was his only capital, but these formed to him the solution of life's social and financial problems to his satisfaction and delight. They were the open sesame by which the gates of the to-morrow opened at his approach. With a foresight, which approached the dignity of prophecy, he put his hand to the plow, never looking back, but ever forward toward the to-morrow of his years which was to bring him a harvest of comfort commensurate with the efforts he had put forth and the privations he had undergone. And rarely was he disappointed. For the greater part the pioneers lived long enough to see the wisdom of their course, and gather some of the fruits of their, own planting; while the lesser number lived long enough to see the complete transformation of the section which they had known as a wilderness waste; long enough to see the disappearance of the red man; long enough to witness those mighty changes which have revolutionized all modern society within a period of half a century.

Who will contemplate the present of this county, and dare say the pioneer did less than the fullest, largest share of the real labor incident to the improvements you today enjoy? It will not do standing in full view of the rising sun of an intellectual and industrial day to east reproach upon the simple memory of the physical era. Just as to-day is the outgrowth of yesterday, so our cultured period is the outgrowth of that physical past. There were hard blows to be struck, and these blows could only come through physical force. That force cleared the way, lopping off its own excrescences as it beckoned the advance of a more cultured agency. Admit once for all that rudeness everywhere abounded; that school-houses, churches, court-houses, dwellings, implements of labor, dress, and manners were uncouth and unseemly. After you have done this, you must also admit other truths just as potent, such as the fact that the spirit of the men who formed the community showed itself at its best in their adherence to principle, their encouragement of education, their administration of justice, and their unbounded hospitality. Of these traits - the gilded, proud estate of manhood - no communit 3 ' ever furnished a brighter example. Talk of rudeness when the heart is full of charity; talk of ignorance when the mind is worshipping justice; talk of prejudice when each succeeding breath is only a new inspiration of liberty' !

Why should they be more than externally uncouth, when they came from the tender influences of the better institutions of the old communities? Why should they be less than superficially rude, when they were dealing with wild and savage rudeness? You who are proud of your structure of society will not cast a reproach upon the memory of that brave and hardy band of men and women, who dug deep enough to lay a permanent foundation for that structure of society of which you proudly boast. You will not sneer at the noble workers who laid the basis of those .educational and industrial institutions, which are the pride and glory of the present, and the hope and promise of the future. Asa physical force guided by a moral influence those pioneers, like the whirlwind, swept before them every obstacle, until even the unbounded forest, the cruel savage, and the wild, ferocious beast had been almost ruthlessly swept aside as no longer obstructions in the widening, extending sweep of civilization. True, the past is dead ; its actors have largely passed from the stage, and, for the most part, the curtain need not be lifted. Still, it is well here and there in the bustling scenes of the present to glance back at the drama of the past, and learn what improvement we have made. The ship of the past has wrecked either in midocean or against its distant shore, and yet in the midst of our own tempestuous voyage we may profit by pausing here and there before the wind and tide to take a new reckoning, and determine, if we can, how far and in what direction we have sailed, and whither our present coarse is drifting. If the log-books of wrecked or anchored vessels are at hand, it may be well to consult them, and profit, if we can, by their recorded observations. Let us then pause a little time to lift the curtain upon the drama of the past, and take up for examination the log-book of those voj'agers who have shipped for the last time, and from whose nerveless grasp the rudder has forever fallen.

County Physical Features

The county comprises an area of about four hundred square miles, or more than 256,000 acres. The soil is varied in character, but extremely fertile throughout the county. The county is bounded north by Auglaize, east by Logan and Champaign, south by Miami, and west by Darke and Auglaize counties. J?or the most part the surface may be called level, although the southern part and the lands adjacent to the Miami River and Loramie Creek partake of a rolling character, sometimes deserving to be called hilly. The altitude is such that Lockington, within the county, marks the summit of the Miami and Erie Canal, the waters from the Miami feeder being here diverted to both the north and the south. The natural water-shed, however, is deflected southward for the whole county, for all natural streams find a final outlet through the Great Miami, which enters the county from the east and flowing to the southwest, crosses the line to immediately receive the waters of Loramie Creek, which carries the drainage of the whole west side of the county. Owing to these larger streams and their smaller tributaries the drainage of the county is effected without great difficulty, although necessarily extensive. That artificial drainage is still carrying forward, but is so far complete as to reduce that which is yet to do to the level of mere auxiliary work. This is viewing the county as a whole, for when viewed by localities there will be found sections still calling for not the spade and tile alone, but for the axe as well. This applies perhaps more particularly to the northeast corner of the county, comprising a large fraction of Jackson Township. Still a few years more will develop a system of drainage for the whole area, not only comprehensive, but also perfect. Of the streams, the Great Miami River and Loramie Creek are the most important. In addition to these as contributing to the drainage must be mentioned Muchanippi, Turtle, Tawawa, Rush, Nine Mile, Brush, and Turkey Foot Creeks, as well as Panther Run and Count's Run.

The Miami and Erie Canal crosses the county from south to north, and affords shipping facilities to several inland towns. The soil throughout the county, although diversified in character, may be classed as fertile, as will be hereafter shown by agricultural statistics.

Geology Bt John Hussey

This county is situated in the second tier of counties from the boundary line between Indiana and Ohio, and about half-way of the State from north to south. It is bounded on the north by Auglaize County', on the east by Logan and Champaign, on the south by Miami, and on the west by Darke and Auglaize. The county seat is Sidney. The water-shed between the Maumee and Miami River systems is partly in the northern part of this county. The road known ns the Kettler turnpike, in a general way, may be regarded ns marking the line of the water shed, at least for some miles of its course, nearest the Loramie Reservoir. The watershed bears to the northeast, after leaving this county, into Hardin and Wyandot counties.

At Cincinnati, low water in the Ohio River is four hundred and thirtytwo feet above tide-water, and the water in the Sidney feeder is five hundred and twelve feet above low water in the Ohio, or nine hundred and forty-four feet above tide-water. The greatest elevation yet measured in the county is one hundred and thirty-four feet, on the Tawawa turnpike, east of the Miami River. The line between this county and Champaign, on this turnpike, is one hundred and twenty-one feet above the water in the feeder. The greatest elevation on the line of the Stewart turnpike is one hundred and twenty-one feet, and on the line between Shelby and Logan counties one hundred and eleven feet above the water in the canal. On the Infirmary turnpike the greatest elevation is eightv-seven feet, and at the end of this road, on the line between this county ami Miami, it is forty feet below the level of the canal. On the St. Marys turnpike, about two miles from Sidney, the highest point is reached at one hundred and twelve feet above the water in the canal. The bottom of the reservoir is about eight feet above the water in the canal. The main canal extends entirely across the county, running in a northwesterly direction from a point on the southern boundary line about midway of the county, from east to west. The Sidney feeder is twelve miles in length, and extends from Port Jefferson to Lockington, and is the channel through which the water from the great reservoir at Lewistown reaches the summit level of the canal. The Sidney feeder and the main canal above Lockington are on the same level, and the, water from the Lewistown reservoir flows indifferently north or south. The summitlevel of the Miami and Erie Canal is, therefore, the same as that of the Sidney feeder - nine hundred and forty-four feet above the level of the sea. The highest land in the county (so far as any measurements have extended) is one thousand anil seventy-eight feet above tide-water, and six hundred and forty-six feet above low water in the Ohio River at Cincinnati. To aid in the comparison of the elevations in this county with other portions of the State, I will here give a few measurements taken from Prof. Orton's Report of the Geology of Highland County, in the volume for 1870, p. 258. At the head-waters of the Scioto and Miami rivers, in Logan County, an elevation is given, on the authority of Col. C. Whittlesey* of one thousand three hundred and forty-four feet, which is two hundred and sixty-six feet greater than any in Shelby County. A measurement still greater is given of a summit in Richland County, one thousand three hundred and eighty-nine feet above the level of the sea. The highest land in the Stale, so far as known, is a point. about three miles northeast of Bellefontaine. Its elevation above the sea, as determined by Prof. F. C. Hill, for the Geological Survey, is fifteen hundred and forty-four feet. The summit-level of the canal in this county is four hundred feet lower than the water-shed between the Miami and Scioto rivers in Logan County. This statement will show the resources of the canal for water supply in this direction. The surface drainage and spring-water of a surface of about nine hundred square miles, must be available at the head-waters of the Miami as a supply for the canal above the summit-level - one-half of which, with other resources, would float a tonnage greater than was ever floated in the canal.

From the preceding statements it will be seen that the surface of the county is little diversified in regard to elevation. There are no hills or deep valleys giving variety to the climate or the productions, or producing picturesqueness of scenery. While the surface is everywhere rolling and well drained, the difference in level from the lowest to the highest point within the limits of the county is but little over two hundred feet. The water from the summit-level is locked down southward from Lockington altogether by six locks, an aggregate of sixty-seven feet, in detail as follows, commencing at the lowest lock: No. 48, from the Ohio River, the lift is ten feet ; passing over the Loramie by an aqueduct, Lock 49 has a lift of eleven feet; the 50th and 51st have each a lift of eleven feet; the 52d and 53d each twelve feet - in all sixty-seven feet. If the water in the bed of the river at the county line is twelve feet below the level of the canal, that would make the lowest point in the county seventy-nine feet l>elow the highest level of the canal ; add one hundred and thirty-four feet for the greatest elevation of any point in the count)' above the canal, and we have the difference in level between the lowest and highest points in the county, which is two hundred and thirteen feet. This calculation includes the valley of the Miami. If we leave this out of the calculation, the variation in level of the upland, the larger part of the county by far, would not be more than about one hundred and twenty-five feet.

The surface of the county, excluding the valley of the Miami, would average about seventy-five feet above the water in the canal. Before the watercourses had worn their channels in the drift, the surface, nearly level, sloped gently toward the south from the dividing ridge; north of that line still less toward the north.

The drainage is very simple. The water which falls on the surface of the county is drained off by the Miami River and its tributaries, with the exception of a strip north of the Kettler turnpike, of a width of about two miles, and but little greater in the other dimension. This is drained into the Maumee. The Miami flows from the county on the south at a point about midway from east to west. Near this point it receives its most important tributary, the Loramie, coming from the northwest, along whose course in the county the Miami Canal is conducted. Tltis tributary, besides performing an important part in the drainage of the county, is immensely valuable in relation to the canal, the Loramie Reservoir being formed in this stream. Coming into the county about centrally on the north, a small stream, it moves sluggishly over the flat district which forms the dividing ridge, and gradually moving its course to the west, reaches a point in its journey far to the western part of the county, where its course is turned to the south in connection with important accessions to its volume of water; cutting a decided channel and receiving important accessions from both sides, it gradually returns eastward to midway of the county, where it debouches into the Miami. It is in the upper part of its course, just where it leaves its sluggish meandering8 on the high land of the water-shed, that the important reservoir which receives its name from the creek is situated. There is a descent of seventy-five or eighty feet from the bottom of the reservoir to the mouth of the Loramie. The eastern part of the county is drained by other tributaries of the Miami. The Tawawa, formed by the junction of the Leatherwood and Mosquito creeks, is an excellent mill stream, and drains the principal part of the county east of the Miami River. From the appearance of this stream in the dry months of July and August, I conclude it is largely fed by springs, as the volume of water was kept up to a good stage when many other streams had failed. There are some copious springs iu the county, but they do not form such a feature as they do in some other counties situated at a lower level. As might be expected, the high land west of the Miami has fewer and less copious springs than are found in less elevated localities in the county. In conclusion of this subject, the drainage of the county by natural channels is ample.

The Soil . - The character of the soil out of the river and creek bottoms depends upon the nature of the underlying drill. I'he drift will be spoken of more particularly further on. The soil in the river bottoms is composed largely of partially decomposed vegetable matter. Tiiere is nothing peculiar about this class of soils in this county, except that on some of the tributaries of the Miami, as Plum Creek, there is an unusual body of it compared with the size of the creek. The explanation of this seems to be that in the upper course of this stream especially, the fall in the bed of the creek is often very slight, and the drainage was very imperfect Before the country was cleared the water was still more impeded by rubbish and undergrowth, and it stood on the ground for at least a portion of the year. Large accumulations of vegetable mould took place, which the size of the streams, as seen to-day, do not seem adequate to produce. This mould is not alluvium, but the result of vegetable growth on the spot. It has not been washed thither by the water, but the vegetation which made it, grew up in the swamps which existed along this sluggish watercourse. The upland soil in the county is naturally divided into two classes, one called black soil , composed of the clay of the drift, mixed with a greater or less proportion of vegetable mould; the other is a liyht-colored , "thin" soil, with little vegetable matter. The dark-colored soil is related in origin to that of the creek bottoms or flats, just referred to. Wherever the water formed swampy districts, there accumulated vegetable matter. Some of these places were yet swampy at the first settlement of the county, and were shunned as unhealthy localities ; but others, often extensive, were no longer swamp}', but from channels being worn through them or out of them, were dry, and invited, not in vain, the early settler. The face of the country may have changed so that the land is readily drained at present, and this still be the true explanation of these black lands in this and adjoining counties. Moisture made rank and abundant vegetation, while it also impeded its entire decay. The partially decayed vegetable products accumulated, and mingling with the clay below, formed that rich, dark-brown loam. But there is unfortunately a larger area of thin and light-colored soil in the county than of the soil just described. This thin soil is not peculiar to this county, but is found in other counties situated in like manner. Its color shows it to be quite destitute of the products of vegetation. It differs equally from the yellow clay soils of the uplands of Butler, Warren, and Hamilton counties, and seems less capable of being made productive. The clay of this class of soils is impermeable to water, and is so situated that water has drained off readily, and has not stood upon it in natural swamps. The soil is composed of a fine-grained material and is compact, and sheds water like a roof. How the circumstances in which the fine-grained material was deposited differed from those in which other drift deposits were made, I will not undertake to state. This soil seems to have been exhausted rather than enriched by ages of primeval vegetation. What chemical analysis would show it to lack of fertilizing material, I cannot say, but the deficiency of limestone pebbles in it would iudicate that it might be lacking in lime, and it has not had the advantage of being overspread with decaying boulders, which add to a soil potash and other fertilizing ingredients. It seems to have been the least fine sediment deposited from receding water - lifeless water.

This soil, lying so as to drain away water, and not of a nature to absorb and retain it, became covered slowly with vegetation. But it always lacked that rankness and exuberance of vegetation which lower and moister places possessed. Still many, countless generations of plants and unknown crops of trees have grown and decayed here without leaving behind them much vegetable matter commingled with the soil. What has become of the substance of plants that it has not accumulated in the soil? The answer must be that the growth upon this soil have passed back to their original elements - have gone as they came - in the form of water and gases. The bulk of vegetation is composed of water (oxygen and hydrogen), carbonic acid (carbon and oxygen), and nitrogen. When vegetation decays these materials are evolved, and pass off into the atmosphere. It is when decay is impeded that vegetable matter accumulates in the soil. Mould is partially decayed vegetation. When vegetable products are protected from the atmosphere by water their decay is retarded and impeded, and certain compounds are formed of a complex character, which do not so readily Undergo decomposition. This is what we call vegetable mould, mixed with clay - loam. In dry situations, exposed to the action of the atmosphere, logs, grass, leaves, straw, utterly disappear and leave no trace behind. The same material heaped together, in wet situations, does not entirely decay, as every one must have observed, but gradually disintegrates, and becomes a uniform mass of dark-colored matter. A cool situation makes this process more sure and complete. Partially decayed vegetation becomes mould, muck or peat, according to the material, the location and extent of the process of decay. These vegetable compounds do not decay readily, but do gradually, and hence results a common experience in the use of muck as manure. Until a dissolution of the muck occurs, it will not nurture vegetation, lienee it is often necessary for it to be exposed a season or two to the action of the atmosphere before it becomes sufficiently advanced in decomposition to give up its elements of fertility to vegetation. My conclusion is that this light-colored soil, not being a good absorber of water, and being so situated as to drain it off readily, the vast amount of vegetation, in different forms, which has grown upon it has entirely decayed and passed off in the forms in which its elements first came to it, namely, as gases.

Here is the place to speak of one of the most interesting features of this upland soil in the county - the fine beds of peat which mark the line of the water-shed. Peat is a vegetable product - it is an accumulation of vegetable matter in circumstances in which decay is arrested. A cool climate and a moist situation are the conditions in which peat is formed. On the scarcely sloping tract, lying just where the drainage, being both ways, was effective neither way, and where the surface was formed of a soil quite impermeable to water, we find to-day several extensive beds of peat of good quality. They lie in Van Buren Township, and near the line of the new Kettler turnpike. Mr. William Kettler owns about one hundred and forty acres of peat ; in section ten of the same township. are one hundred and forty acres more; in section fourteen, ten acres ; in section twenty-two, about thirty acres, and smaller quantities in one or two other places, being over three hundred acres in all. It is not certainly known how deep these beds are; it is supposed they will average at least ten feet. I did not learn the facts upon which this belief rests, but, from the character of the men from whom I obtained the information, I feel that the statement can be relied upon. Where I examined the peat, on Mr. Kettler's farm, although large ditches bad been conducted through it to drain it, there was no place where the bottom could be seen, nor the distance to it from the bottom of the ditch be ascertained, by such explorations as we could make with a fence-stake.

On this water-shed the effect of continued washing is seen in a slight furrowing of the surface into broad and shallow troughs, leading toward the drainage of Loramie Creek. Suppose that at a time when all the region was densely covered with forest and protected from the sun's rays, the falling of a tree, or the erection of a dam by beavers should have cut off the passage of the water, bogs of greater or less extent and depth would have been formed. In these vegetation would soon flourish suited to such localities - plants which flourish in and near moisture - coarse grasses and vines, luxuriant ferns, and particularly the sphagnous mosses which are known to compose so large a proportion of peat-beds. We can hardly conceive of the rapidity with which the accumulation of vegetable material takes place in such circumstances. The remains of beaver dams are still confidently pointed out by residents there, and the traditions of the county are numerous, and corroborative in regard to the existence of these ingenious animals at a time not long antedating the memory of the "oldest inhabitant." In complete confirmation of this general conviction, I have in my possession teeth of the beaver found in the county.

The peat is of a uniform consistence and of a drab color, where freshly exposed. On the surface, where it has been drained, it is sufficiently decomposed to nourish the most luxuriant vegetation which I saw in the county - vines, grasses, briers, bushes, and ferns, and, where under culvation, the finest of corn crops. The beds are purely vegetable; neither on the surface, nor beneath it, could there be distinguished a particle of earth mixed with the peat. Being about at the Summit, there was no source from which earth could have been washed into the forming peat. When dry it burns readily with a cheerful blaze and rather strong odor, glowing like the embers of leaves in a draft. It is not, however, used as fuel, on account of the great abundance of wood in that region and its distance from any market, and doubtless the day is remote when it will be in demand as fuel on account of the abundance of coal even more convenient to the great markets than these beds of peat. The great productiveness of the porous, friable upper crust, where the beds have been drained, suggests a use for this material of great interest. It is contiguous to these great beds of peat that the thin, light-colored soils, so destitute of vegetable mould, abound. Here is a supply, not easily exhausted, of the very material which that soil needs. If these beds average ten feet in thickness, there is enougli vegetable matter in them to cover, to the depth of one-half a foot, nearly ten square miles of land. I pointed out to Mr. William Kettler a danger which threatens the destruction of those beds which are perfectly drained. He has dug large trenches through his extensive beds for the purpose of drying them to bring them into cultivation. Where the peat becomes dry it is porous, light, and friable. It requires no breaking up to receive the crop, but is only furrowed out to secure precision in the rows of corn that it may be worked with the plough. The process of drying must continue from year to year where the system of drainage is complete. The result may be disastrous if such a bed of inflammable matter is exposed, as it must be, to the malice or carelessness of any one who might set fire to it in the extremely dry weather of our late summer seasons. Already, imperfectly dried out as the beds are yet, where persons have carelessly allowed fire to catch in the surface of the peat, deep holes have been burned, extending, doubtless, to the undried substratum. No means that could be brought to bear in those regions would be effectual in quenching a fire in one of those peat beds if they are once thoroughlysdried out. The remedy I would suggest is one of prevention - it is to close up the system of drains during the winter, allowing the water to stand in them, saturating the beds completely. The drains being opened in the spring, the beds of peat would not become fully' dried out during summer. By retaining moisture they will bring better crops and be safe from conflagration.

The Rain-Fall

This county is near the border of the area marked in the " Rain-Chart" of the Smithsonian Institution in which the average of rain-lall is forty inches. In the absence of other reliable data, any indefinite impressions that the amount is less than this must be disregarded. We are apt to judge by the effects ; for example, the state of the crops, whereas the larger portion of the rain-fall is at a season when no visible influence can reach the crops from it. Plainly, all the rain and snow-water, which runs off the frozen crust of the ground in the winter, does not affect, one way or the other, the crops of the ensuing summer. The same can be said of the most of the rain, which runs off as soon as it falls, at any season. *

An interest attaches to the amount of water which falls, in various forms, in this and the adjoining counties, particularly to the northeast, on account of the requirements of the canal. Data are wanting for determining the amount of water carried off by the canal and the river from the area above the summit-level of the canal in this and the adjoining counties on the northeast. The nature of the soil is such that it will shed as large a proportion of the water which falls upon it as any other soil in the State. An immense quantity flows from above the highest level of the canal without any advantage to the canal. It is equally true that a much greater proportion of it could be utilized than actually finds its way into the canal - enough, certainlyj to remove the question of the supply of water out of the discussion concerning the abandonment of the canal.

The Loramie Reservoir

This body of water, covering at present but little over 2000 acres of land, lies wholly in Shelby County, and although not one of the largest of the State reservoirs, nor the most important, still it is exceedingly valuable to successful navigation in the summer and early fall. The bottom of the reservoir is about eight feet above the summit-level of the canal. It is supplied by the drainage of about sixty-five or seventy square miles. Being near the water-shed, the surface from which water can be collected into the reservoir is limited, and less water comes from springs than would be the case in many other localities not so high. While the main reliance is on drainage from a limited surface, still such is the nature of the surface-soil, that a much larger proportion of the water which falls upon the surface runs off at once than would run from soil of a more porous character, or one underlaid by large beds of clean gravel, or sand, or porous rock. The construction of roads, drains, and ditches, as well as the clearing away of the timber and the cultivation of the soil, cause a more rapid flowing away of the water which falls upon the surface. Formerly the reservoir received more water from the gradual draining of the surface ; this maintained it at a good stage for a longer time, and enabled it to furnish a greater supply during those months of the dry season when water is usually low in the canal. If the capacity of the reservoir could be increased so as to hold more of the water which falls in the winter months, its usefulness might be greatly increased, for instead of being maintained in good stage until late in the summer by the gradual running out of the water from the extensive swamps of an early day, it is now filled up by the rapid surface drainage, and to furnish as much water when most wauled, must have a capacity to hold at once all that comes into it in the winter and spring. In 2000 acres of land there are 87,120,000 square feet. If it is filled, during the year, with eight feet in depth of water, there would be 696,960,000 cubic feet; allowing that one-half is lost by evaporation, soakage, and waste from imperfect bulkheads, there would remain 348,480,000 cubic feet for the uses of the canal - enough to lock down, with the present sizo of locks, eighty boats from the summit level every day of the year. With sixty-five square miles of drainage, from which the reservoir must receive its supply, how much of the forty inches annual rain-fall would be necessary to furnish this amount? Less than five inches. A much larger proportion of the forty inches than this certainly flows from the surface of the ground.

It is but justice to the people of the county to call attention to some facts connected with the history and present condition of Loramie Reservoir. As it is, the people of the county do not feel kindly disposed toward it. The ground covered by the water of this reservoir was covered in part by the original forest when it was constructed. The forest was not removed, but the trees surrounded by water died, and in the course of time fell down, and now lie in great numbers beneath the water when the water is high, and partly out of it when the water is low. This exposure of the timber to the air in the late summer and the autumn months causes, it is believed, the generation of a miasm which pervades the whole region, rendering it unhealthy. The exposure of the logs to the atmosphere, it is believed, also, has been the cause of the destruction of many tons of fine fish during the past two seasons. It seems, and who will not say with justice, to the people of the county, that the State should do something to remedy the evils which they suffer from the causes just mentioned. They think that the reservoir should be an attractive rather than a repulsive body of water, that it should be a benefit rather than an injury to the interests of the county. Now, when it is borne in mind that there are hundreds of thousands of cubic feet of logs and other sediment in the reservoir, and that all displaces as many cubic feet of water, it is after all a question worthy to be considered, whether it would not be economy to remove all this rubbish to have its room occupied by' water every year. How many hundred, perhaps thousand, times would the water-soaked forest which lies beneath the reservoir, with the other vast accumulations of vegetable matter and mud, fill one of the locks of the canal? This would be the measure of gain each year resulting from the removal of all this material from the reservoir - for every lock-full of logs a lock-full of water would be gained. This would remove a nuisance from the county, and in some degree compensate for the withdrawal of so large an area of laud from cultivation, from improvement, from tax paying. The importance of the reservoirs of the State as sources of supply of fish, deserves to be mentioned here; not only the actual amount of fish for the table to be procured from them, but as sources from which the waters of the State may be restocked and kept supplied with young fish. The reservoirs are at the head-waters of our principal rivers, and, with the present knowledge of artificial fishbreeding, could be made of immense value to the State as sources of supply of fish for the rivers of the State.

The amount of water which could be made available for the canal depends upon the area of land which is above the level of the canal. All that part of the county, embracing about nine townships, which lies on the east and northeast of the main canal, and west and northwest of the Sidney feeder, is above the highest " level" of the canal - it will average about seventy-five feet above the canal. Of course it would be possible to gather many times more water from this area than could be contained in Loramie Reservoir. While all this area could not be made available, yet there must be much of it which could be, were it considered a matter of sufficient importance to have it done. Considering, then, alone, the great area, both in this county and in the counties above this, about the head-waters of the Miami River, there should he no question as to the abundance of the supply of water above the summit-level of the canal to continue it as one of the most important avenues of commerce of the State.

The Drift

The level of the canal at Sidney is about thirty feet above the rock surface. Add to this distance the ascertained elevation above the canal of any point in the county, and it will give approximately the thickness of the drift or clay, gravel, and bowlder deposits. This would make the greatest thickness of the drift on the Tawawa turnpike one hundred and sixty-four feet above bedded rock. Within about two miles of Sidney, on the turnpike to St. Marys, the elevation measures one hundred and twelve feet above the canal at Sidney. Add to this thirty feet and we have one hundred and forty-two, which may be very confidently considered the depth of the drift at this place. It is true these figures may not be the exact measure of the distance from the surface down to the solid rock. Other formations which are known to occur north of this count}', and which overlie the formation which occurs here, may underlie the deep drift of the northern part of this county, but this is not certainly known to be the case. On the south, at the line between this and Miami County, on the Infirmary turnpike, the grade falls forty feet below the level of the canal, which is ten feet lower than the top of the rock near Sidney. By the course of the river it will be seen that there is a dip on the surface of the rock as we go southward. The canal rises one hundred and fifty-two feet from Tippecanoe (below Lock 39) to the feeder at Sidney. While accurate measurements were not taken of the difference in elevation of the top of the Clinton Stone in the neighborhood of Tippecanoe, and the surface of the canal, yet some measurements which I recorded make the distance about sixty feet. Taking this from one hundred and fifty-two makes this formation about ninety-two feet at Tippecanoe below the level of the Sidney feeder; whereas the top of the Clinton, where this formation is last seen above Bogg's mill-seat, near the end of the bridge over the river, as before stated, is near sixty feet below the canal, these figures would give to the Clinton a rise in level with the horizon of about thirty feet in that distance.

The surface of bedded rock underlying the drift in Shelby County is doubtless worn unevenly, in some places rising above the level indicated by the top rock, on the Miami, below Sidney, in others sinking more or less below that level - perhaps, in places, greatly below.

Rising sometimes to one hundred and sixty-four feet, maintained generally at a level ranging from figures but a little lower than this, down to seventy-five feet (seldom going lower), we may conclude that there is an average depth of drift in the county of one hundred feet. This depth of drift is not equalled in any of the counties which lie south of this. We are here on the line which bounds the deep drift on the south.

The opportunities to ascertain the nature of the drift are numerous in the excavations made in constructing the canal and railroads, especially the Indianapolis and Bellefontaine branch of the Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati, and Indianapolis Railroad, which runs at a considerably lower level than the Dayton and Michigan road, which runs through the county in a north and south direction. At the point where the east and west road runs below the track of the Dayton and Michigan, on the western border of Sidney, a good opportunity is afforded of seeing the nature of the drift for a distance of thirty or forty leet below the surface. About one mile cast of the bridge over the river, on this road, is a still deeper cut. There is little stratification observed in the deposit as seen through these deep cuts. Sand and gravel largely predominate in the composition of the drift as seen here, mixed with clay and numerous granitic or quartz bowlders, varying in size from mere pebbles to masses containing from ten to twenty cubic feet. The gravel, sand, and bowlders are distributed through the clay, and all are lying in confusion. It seems tome safe to say that fully twenty-five feet in thickness of clear gravel, were it separated from the clay, would be found in the drift throughout this count}' - a quantity so inconceivably great that I will not undertake to express it in figures, more than to say that it would yield twenty-five million cubic yards to the square mile. But this gravel is too much commingled with clay to make it available, in general, for ballasting or road-making, and with all this the county is not abundantly supplied with good gravel for such uses, well distributed in different localities. Enough has, however, been found to construct a system of free turnpikes not surpassed, in extent or excellence, by those of any county of similar size and situation in the State, although the material has had to be hauled, in some instances, for inconvenient distances. I will make special mention of one of the roads, constructed by Mr. D. W. Parapell as engineer - I refer to the one called at Sidney "the St. Marys road," on the line of an old road formerly projected to connect Sidney with the town of St. Marys. This road, of excellent width, careful and full grading, and well gravelled, is carried on a perfectly straight line for a distance which falls short bv but a few rods of thirteen miles, wholly in this county. The numerous excellent roads which have been recently constructed through all portions of the county must have an important influence on its future development.

The total number of miles of turnpike roads in Shelby County, at the .present time, is one hundred and fifty-nine, of which only eighteen miles are toll-roads. The free turnpikes extend to all parts of the county and intersect nearly every important neighborhood, and are the means of the development now seen in progress of the material, moral, and intellectual interests of the county. The cost of these roads I ascertained, from the county auditor, Mr. Guthrie, who kindly furnished me with the statement, to be about $4000 per mile, or an aggregate of $564,000 for the one hundred and forty-one miles of free turnpike road within the county. While there has been found an abundance of gravel for these roads, it has not always been convenient, and the distance it has been necessary to haul it has enhanced the cost considerably. But for this expense the people of the county have obtained good roads, carefully laid out, and well graded and drained.

valleys, more or less gravel has been deposited in beds, generally at the junction of two such valleys. Usually these depressions are far from any water-course that could in the least affect them at present. They are on the higher levels where no streams of water exist now, and show the effect of the washing of the water which once covered over the whole surface as it ebbed and flowed when it was gradually subsiding, or they are more visibly related to the water-course of to-day and serve to mark the stations where the water stood successively during the time in which the deep valleys, in which the streams now flow, were being excavated. In this county, the gravel of the higher beds is less abundant, is not so coarse or so free from clay. This must have resulted from the condition of the higher deposits of the drift, in which a gravel of a smaller grain was found; as if there had been coarser gravel in this portion of the drift, not it, but the finer, would have been the sooner washed onward, and the coarser would have been left in the higher beds. Above ami separated from the portion of the valleys of the water-courses, particularly of the river, affected by the action of the water at any stage, at the present time, are some fine beds of washed gravel, showing the effect of moving water in varying circumstances of force and velocity. Near Fort Jefferson is the best example of gravel beds of this description in the county. It occurs at the junction of two valleys now threaded by two brooks, the shrunken successors of broad streams of former remote ages. Here are the wide channels which they cut, wide compared with the small paths of the creeks which now meander by a struggling course to reach the river channel. At the point of land where these two waters joined, and where their streams mingled with that of the Miami, is a grand deposit of alternating layers of gravel and sand, heaped up thirty or forty feet deep and exposed now, by the removal of the extreme point to a width of about one hundred feet. When one or the other, or both, the streams which excavated the unequal channels (for one greatly exceeds the other in magnitude) which join at this point, were swollen and were carrying onward a load of sand and gravel, as well as clay, and meeting here, and one spreading over the valley of the other, if unswollen, or both widening as they entered the broad valley of the river and losing a part of their momentum and carrying power, they deposited a portion of their freight at the point of junction where the rapidity of the current was first checked. In these strata can be read the history of the currents which flowed here, and left their records, not in rocks, but in sands. There is first, in nearly horizontal layers, a succession of strata composed of clean gravel (the lowest exposed at the time of my visit, the lower had been covered previously), then one of coarse, gray sand ; another next of fine sand ; then ten feet of sand finely stratified ; then to the top alternating layers of gravel and sand. After these layers now referred to were deposited, another deposit of clean gravel was made, not parallel witli these, but covering the ends of all of them from the highest to the lowest. I will simply refer to another deposit of gravel, near the south end of the iron bridge over the river south of Sidney. This large accumulation is less available for road-making than it would have been had it not become so cemented together by a deposit of carbonate of lime. I distinguished from these beds of gravel that large accumulation, at a lower level, and underlying the " river bottom," or the "second bottom," exemplified by an accumulation of clean sand, used for building purposes, just below the west end of the railroad bridge, east of Sidney, over the Miami River, and perhaps underlying more or less the town of Sidney.

The broad excavation made by the Miami River through the drift of this county and the counties above, has exposed to the transporting action of water countless thousands of perches of sand and gravel which have been removed down the course of this river, and even into the Ohio and far down it, strewing its beaches with these materials so useful to man. . Perhaps no water-course in the State has borne so much sand and gravel along its course and lodged it in places where it is accessible to man. This is a striking peculiarity of the Miami River; its broad terraces are underlain with a bed of the cleanest, finest gravel for roadmaking in quantities practically inexhaustible. I have but to cite the immense deposits beneath the alluvium at Middletown, on both sides of the river at Hamilton, and indeed along its whole course, culminating in that bed at Harrison junction, cut and exposed by the Indianapolis and Cincinnati Railroad.

Bowlders. - While the transported rocks do not constitute a marked feature in Shelby County, still there are many of them. The largest bowlder, however, that has yet come under my observation in the State lies near the railroad, one mile east of Sidney. It contains twelve hundred and fifty cubic feet, and weighs about one hundred and three tons.

Human remains. - As in other counties, in nearly every instance where gravel beds have been opened to obtain gravel for road-making, skeleton remains of human beings have been discovered. They lie invariably near the surface of the ground, and soon crumble to dust when exposed to the influence of the atmosphere. Careful observations do not seem generally to have been made as to the mode of placing the body in the earth, but enough was learned to induce the belief that no one custom of sepulture was invariably adhered to. It is not a little singular that these dry places were chosen as places of interment for the dead of that race, whichever it was, whose dead are found decaying in them. With imperfect means for opening graves for their dead in the earth, it is perhaps not unreasonable to suppose that they buried their dead in the gravel because, with their tools, the task was more easily effected in such localities than in the harder clay. This supposition seems to derive force from the appearance of carelessness in these interments. The bodies are thrust in a hole feet foremost, and forced into a small space. It is very seldom that trinkets were buried with these dead, though sometimes it is the case. But we must notice that keenness of observation, which detected, so unerringly, the hidden beds of gravel which, though needed, were in many instances entirely unsuspected by those who ploughed and reaped above them, until the exigencies of road-making caused more thorough search to be made by those who searched without certain indications, by tentative methods, and often without hope of success. With the forests cleared away, and the soil under cultivation, and often dug into for various purposes, and with more or less light from modern science, we did not suspect gravel in a thousand localities where it has been found ; we had no indications of it, and when many beds were discovered, there were yet no certain marks to point out others, and two generations have passed, travelling on mud roads unwillingly, and now, when we are stimulated to road-making, and search has been made under strong incentive and competition, behold, it is no new discovery we have made every gravel pit is a place of human sepulture. I make the suggestion here, that possibly, in a primitive forest, there were some growths which were an indication of the nature of the underlying deposits, some which the men of the forest had learned to regard as indicating gravel. It is well known to us that some plants, some trees, are very choice in regard to the kind of soil in which alone they will flourish, especially as retaining moisture or not.

Remains of Human Art I did not see as many flint and stone implements among the people in this county as I have in some others, though such articles are not uncommon even here. There may be ancient mounds in the county, though I did not see any. Along the Miami River and other water-courses are localities where a variety of flint arrow-points and spear-points in considerable numbers have from time to time been fouud, though but few seem to have been preserved. Other classes of implements, as stone hammers and pestles, seem not to be common, and I did not see any place where indications were found which would lead any one to suppose that these or other implements had been manufactured there. The most favored localities for arrow-points are along the watercourses and on the highest points in the county. But the larger number are found on the river and its tributaries. It is worth remark that the indications in the position of the flints do not point to an extreme antiquity as the time of their manufacture. There are many places along our larger water-courses in the west where extensive manufactories of arrow-points, stone axes, and pestles, etc., have existed, and where pottery ware has been manufactured and burned. These localities have never before been disturbed by the inroads of the rivers, but are now being undermined and washed down for the first time. The implements in all stages of manufacture are found in great numbers; old bark peelers and pestles, which had been injured by use, or from some fault in original construction did not give satisfaction, were undergoing repair or remodelling; heaps of chips are found, and great numbers of lap-stones, hammers in connection with hearths, and remains of fire together with crockery, are found in these localities at no great depth below the present surface of the soil, where overflows are still a common occurrence. A very remote antiquity could not be ascribed to these remains of human art and industry from anything in their situation. In the course of a few centuries the rivers in the secular oscillations which they execute from bank to bank, a result of laws in constant operation, must disturb and redistribute, by the constant eating away of the bank, the whole of the alluvial deposit near its own level. Nothing is more constant, nothing more certain than the wear of an abrupt alluvial bank during high water, with a regularity which admits of calculation. The great number of such stone-tool manufactories, which are now disclosed along the course of the Ohio River, afford evidence that their age was not far back in gray antiquit}'. A few banks that are now crumbling might have escaped the erosion of the surging waters for a very long period ; but it is incredible that so many as are now delivering up their relics of human art, their evidences of human industry and ingenuity, places in which for the first time since the ancient workman finally laid down his tools or kindled his fire upon his well-made hearth of bowlder pebbles, for the last time, should have escaped for indefinite ages just such action of the water as they are now yielding to.

Remains of Extinct Animals. - A few bones of animals not now found in the State - as a few teeth of the beaver, and portions of the antlers of one or two elks, and some reports of discoveries of mammoth or mastodon remains - were all that came to my knowledge of fossils of this character. We may be prepared to hear of the discovery of such fossils in the peat beds, if they are ever much worked. Peat seems to possess the property of preserving the bodies of animals which become mired in it.

Bedded Stone

We come now to speak of the underlying consolidated strata which are exposed within the county. The only bedded stone found within Shelby County, lies in a narrow strip bordering the river, extending from the southern boundary of the county to within a mile of the town of Sidney. From the county line to a locality known as Boggs' Mill, wherever stone is seen in situ, it belongs to the formation called by geologists the Clinton. It is the stone which immediately underlies the building stone in the suburbs of Piqua, in Miami County, and which is burned into lime so extensively just south of that town. It possesses, in the locality in Shelby County referred to, all the characteristics by which the stone of this formation is so surely detected. The physical characteristics of being unevenly bedded, highly crystallized, of sandy texture, and of a rust color from the presence of iron, and withal a hard stone, here show themselves. The fossils common to the Clinton in the vicinity of Piqua, are here abundantly seen - Halyaites catenulala , Slromatopora, Asyringipora , and some species of Fovosites. These were exposed on the surface. No fossil shells were to be seen. Fragments of crinoid stems seemed to compose a considerable portion of the rock, and several species of Fenestella abounded. This formation has never been quarried here, apparently, for any economical purpose. It is in the neighborhood of an excellent limestone belonging higher up, and which furnishes lime of the first quality. The Clinton formation furnishes no good building stone in this part of the State, and, while it makes the strongest kind of lime, it is hard to burn, and heats greatly in slaking, and sets rapidly when mixed. It is highly esteemed in paper-mills, where a strong lime is desired, as it more readily softens the material used in the manufacture of paper.

The next formation ascending, is that known as the Niagara. It is not seen here in actual contact with the preceding, as the exposure is not continuous; but within about a mile of the river, an outcrop of stone is observed on and near the banks of the liver. A casual examination shows that a great change has taken place in the character of the stone. We have not only passed to a new formation, but into the upper strata of it. The stone is neither well stratified nor compact, and not suitable for building purposes. It is porous, comparatively soft, and very fossiliferous, and of a light blue color. It is burned here into an excellent lime, known locally as the Pontiac lime. The strata of the Niagara, so much prized for building purposes, found at Piqua, and also those found at Covington, Miami County, belong below this horizon. The superposition of this quality of stone upon that of the Covington quarries, is ocularly demonstrated on the Stillwater. This river rises gradually up to the level of and above the stone of the Covington quarries above Covington. At the village of Clayton, on the Stillwater, about two miles north of Covington, the banks of the river are formed of the same strata as those from which the Pontiac lime is made, within about a mile of the last exposure of the Clinton, on the Great Miami. The last exposure of the Clinton on the Stillwater, is several miles south of Covington; and a familiar example of the Clinton stone may be given in the falls of the Panther Creek. It will be seen that all that thickness of building stone about the town of Covington, and exhibited so well at the falls of Greenville Creek, as well as that of the Piqua quarries, belongs above the Clinton and below the strata which first appear above it on the Miami, near where the "Pontiac" lime-kilns are situated. The inference follows, that if there is any good building stone within Shelby County, it will be found somewhere between Boggs's mill-seat and the Pontiac lime-kilns. The shortness of the distance, together with the slight fall in the river, would preclude the existence of any extensive strata in this locality. There may exist here a few feet of evenly layered rock, corresponding with the upper layers of the Covington stone: but the hope of very much good stone, even if any is found, is too slight to encourage -much expense in searching for it. It will be thus seen that the Niagara thins out in this direction, especially the lower strata, while the upper strata maintain a considerable thickness. Indeed, it is possible that the upper strata of the Niagara lie here immediately upon the Clinton. The thickness of the strata is not known with certainty, but can be approximately made out. The Pontiac lifiiestone is but little, if any, above the surface of water in the river in its lower layers, and a mile south of Sidney the top of it is about twenty-five feet above the water. With a fall of fifty feet in that distance, there would be a thickness of seventy-five feet of this quality of limestone. I think there is as much as this. We do not know that this is its greatest thickness, for it may rise higher under the drift in some places. It is a soft stone, and has, no doubt, been ploughed down by the forces which deposited the drift. It would not retain any marks of wearing forces on its surface. Although not valuable for building purposes, it contains an inexhaustible store of the best quality of lime. The lime manufactured from this stone is of a pure white when slaked, and is suitable for all purposes for which lime is used. From a previous volume of this Survey (1870, p. 449) I make an extract, showing the composition of the limestone taken from one of the quarries of this county. I will add the remark, that the locality from which the specimen submitted to examination was taken, is about midway between the lowest and the highest strata. I will say also, that from the appearance of the weathered surfaces of the stone at Dugan's quarries, I concluded that there was a larger quantity of oxide of iron in the stone of this locality, than would be found either above or below, especially below. The rusty color indicated the presence of iron. From the porous nature of the stone, I supposed the iron may have been filtered out of water which has run through it. There was an entire absence of that rust color in the Pontiac quarry, and the same might be said of the quarries near Sidney.

It will be seen that there is little to choose between the best Springfield lime and the Shelby County lime. The former is a little nearer the best markets in Ohio, and enjoys the additional advantage of the competition of several independent lines of railroads leading to the best markets. The Shelby County limq could perhaps be burned a little cheaper on account of the lower price of fuel, but not enough so to overcome the disadvantage before referred to. When it shall be burned more extensively, which will be done when it can find a market at less expense of freight, it will become an important article of commerce between this county and other places.

Fossils. - This rock from which the lime is made discloses, when broken, an abundance of fossils, but from the nature of the rock they are not very perfect. There were species of Orthoceras of a large size, a trilobite, viz., Galymene Blumenbachii , corals of the genus Fenestella, and numerous shells and crinoids and cystideans, whose names I have not been able to ascertain.

Political Divisions

Kettlersville and Pulaski; Dinsmore Township, Botkins and Anna; Jackson Township, Montra and Jackson Centre; Salem Township, Port Jefferson and Maplewood; Perry Township, Pemberton; Green Township, Plattsville and New Palestine; Orange Township, Kirkwood; Washington Township, Lockington and Newbern; Loramie Township, Mount Jefferson, Houston, North Houston, and Russia; Cynthian Township, Newport ; McLean Township, Berlin; Turtle Creek Township, Hardin; Franklin Township, Swanders; and Clinton Township, Sidney. Of these towns, Pemberton, Sidney, Hardin, North Houston, and Russia, are on the C. C. C. and I. Railroad; Botkins, Anna, Swanders, Sidney, and Kirkwood on the D. and M. Railroad ; and Berlin, Newport, Newbern, and Lockington are on the Miami find Erie Canal. Port Jefferson is also at the head of the Miami feeder of the canal.

Settlement

In contemplating the settlement under the whites, a picture somewhat blurred by time, but still distinct enough in outline, presents itself to view, and demands at least a casual glance. This picture recalls the momentous struggles waged before the erection of the State, and waged in part while even the "Northwest Territory" was yet a thing of the future. It recalls the initial movements which precipitated the old French war, and gave the English that prestige which ultimately enabled them to grasp and hold a continent. It recalls those perilous times which succeeded the Revolution, and clustered about the date of the celebrated " ordinance of freedom" which organized this territory in 1787. In view of these events the writer visited the site of the old fort, and the result of that visit is portrayed in the following communication furnished the press for publication : -

" While visiting Berlin we were invited by a friend to take a drive about a mile north of the village, in order to visit the old landmark of which this community is so proud. The invitation was accepted, and a half hour later we were standing on the bank of Loramie Creek, upon the site of old Fort Loramie, whose associations within the historic era of this section date back to the year 1752. View the spot as you will you find it invested with a dual character, presenting itself now as a storehouse of provisions, and again as a storehouse of arms. True, the years between 1752 and 1795 were unsettled in their influence upon this whole section, and the peace of this spot was abruptly terminated on at least two occasions by the agencies of fire and the sword. During an indefinite period, anterior to the middle of the eighteenth century, this point was simply a convenient place of crossing between the hunting lands of the Miami and St. Marys rivers. It may have served as a portage for those early adventurous French voyageurs who left the lake region, away back in the seventeenth century, to explore the streams of the South and West. This early policy obtained upon this continent by the French for a period of nearly one hundred years. During this period it is probable some of those French explorers ascended the St. Marys to its head-waters ; and then, while examining the topography of this locality, discovered the so-called ' West Branch of the Big Miami,' by which they may have descended to the Ohio, and ultimately through the Mississippi to the Gulf. However this, a settlement was founded on the banks of Loramie Creek by a band of English traders, which constituted one of the very earliest efforts at settlement made by the English within the limits of our State. The settlement was doomed in its infancy, for as soon as the French learned that an * English tradinghouse had been established at the portage of the West Branch of the Big Miami,' a party of soldiers advanced upon it and demanded the surrender of the traders, at the hands of the Miamis, to which tribe this section then belonged. The demand was refused, whereupon the French destroyed the trading-post, killed fourteen of the natives, and carried the English traders as prisoners to Canada. Such was the fate of Pickawillany, as the post was called by the English. The old French war was fought out after this date, terminating in 1763, and leaving all the French forts in possession of the English. In 1732 General George Rogers Clarke raised a force of one thousand mounted men to chastise the savages for the relentless depredations and murders committed in the Blue Licks region. In this expedition General Clarke marched rapidly up the Big Miami, then up the West Branch to the south end of the portage, where Loramie's store was situated. This store, with its provisions, was entirely destroyed, except so far as the goods could be sold or used by the troops. Loramie, the owner, was a French Canadian, who bad made his store a rendezvous of intriguers and hostile agencies, until he was rendered obnoxious to the English, at whose hands he merited the wrath inflicted by General Clarke. This store was of more than ordinary extent and importance, as General Clarke declared, 1 the property destroyed was of great amount, and the provisions surpassed all idea we had of Indian stores.' "

Thus, after the lapse of thirty years, retribution was visited upon the French, for the blow of destruction and death dealt by them to the infant settlement of Pickawillany. Eight years after this second destruction the old spot was witness to the march of another army, the forces of General Harmar having passed by in hurried order to that field of carnage which was almost a field of disaster, and which is known as the ground of " Harmar's defeat." Still this spot continued something of a central point in the Indian country, and so saw the gathering storm of fury which burst in a wild deluge of defeat and death upon the army of St. Clair. After this carnage and massacre this spot had scarcely time to dream of peace and rest when General Wayne, with stealthy, snake-like movement, stole hurriedly by, and sweeping tj the north in an almost mad career, fell upon the Miami villages, routed the warriors, and returned in triumph to Greenville, where he paused to dictate terms of peace to the several tribes of the Northwest Territory. During this period of armed truce General Wayne erected a number of block Rouses throughout this section, and among these was Fort Loramie, at the old trading point, named in honor of the old store, which derived its name from its owner, and finally transmitted it to the stream upon whose banks it was located, and which was formerly known as the West Branch of the Big Miami. Latterly this name has also been applied to the post-office at Berlin. The old spot must have felt proud of the distinction conferred upon it by General Wayne, when it reflected upon its history of contention, strife, and blood. Its story is thus not only dual, but complementai, for it has stood alternately as n storehouse in peace, and a fortification in war. It undoubtedly cherishes many secrets, for it has told but little of its history, and even that little in ragged, jagged, and tattered fragments. If the old spot could only talk; - but, perhaps, even then its regard for the feelings of its auditors might paralyze its tongue and drown its voice in this same oppressive silence by which it is crowned to-day. The silence of the grave is in keeping with the place, for it is a grave. At a little distance are farms teeming with life; by its side flows the gentle Loramie, rippling with glee as it murmurs that dirge in whieh we catch the words : -

Below it, less than a mile, is the village of Berlin, conservative in effort, but still bustling with life; yes, life is everywhere save here, where we experience a feeling of lonesomeness in the companionship of the dead past, for the forms we see are only ghosts of a period of strife, woe, and death. We are standing upon a grave, for it is the site of two dead settlements, and the gurgling of the stream is the only sound which breaks the oppressive silence, and disturbs our dream of the past. We feel an almost irresistible impulse to leave this spot, - to go to Berlin, - to Minster, - to any scene of life where we may mingle with things which are, and for a moment forget the cruel past, which is only death, and contemplate the kinder present, which is but anothername for life R.S..M.

The last officer who had command at this fort was Captain Butler, who was a nephew of General Richard Butler, who fell at the battle of Recovery during the engagement which resulted in the defeat of St. Clair. Colonel John Johnston was well acquainted with Captain Butler, and in speaking of him observed: " His wife and children were with him during his command, and one of the children, a son about eight years old, died at this post. The agonized father and mother were inconsolable. The grave of the child was inclosed with a very handsome and painted railing, at the foot of which honeysuckles were planted, grew luxuriantly, entwined the paling, and finally enveloped the whole grave. Nothing could appear more beautiful than this arbor when in bloom. The peace withdrew Captain Butler and his troops to other scenes on the Mississippi. I never passed the fort without a melancholy thought of the lovely boy who rested there, and his parents far away, never to behold that cherished spot again. Long after the posts had decayed in the ground the vines sustained the palings, and the whole remained perfect until the War of 1812, when everything was destroyed."

It is proper here to correct a popular error which has universally obtained, ascribing the location of this fort to "the mouth of the west branch of the Big Miami." This undoubtedly arose from reports made by military men, who, at the early dates already mentioned, labored under misapprehensions as to the geography as well as the topography of the unsurveyed regions of the northwest. The mouth of Loramie Creek, or the old west branch of the Big Miami, is below Lockington in Miami County, while the site of Fort Loramie is actually far above that point, in McLean Township, on a tract of land now owned by F. Arkenberg, less than a mile north of the village of Berlin.

During all this period, it must be borne in mind, this whole section was in possession of the Indians. This branch of the subject Iwing elsewhere fully treated. As late as 1792 the murder of Col. John Hardin was committed by the Indians at the present site of the old village of Hardin, in Turtle Creek Township. No stretch of imagination is necessary to connect the whole locality with sanguinary action on the part of both the whites and Indians. More than once- it was the theatre of treachery and murder, and more than once the theatre of conferences looking to the establishment of peace and amity. In that theatre, tragedy, deep and dark, was rendered; so deep and dark that death was never feigned, but altoays real, and from which no player returned to the rehearsal. Such was the ante-State condition of tilings throughout the section which embraced the present limits of this review. After the stirring events which attended the failure of the infant settlement of I'icawillany no further efforts appear to have been made in this locality for a period of more than half a century. The old territorial government based on the celebrated ordinance of 17*7 has passed away, giving place to a new State which was carved out of the " territory northwest of the river Ohio." The pioneer had been feeling Ins way up the valleys of the Mad and Miami rivers, contending with the fastness of an unbounded forest, at times a waste of surface waters, and the savage denizens of nature's wilds. Shelby County was yet a thing of the future, and even a permanent settlement within its future borders was something yet to be. But the tide was beating and battling in this direction, and never checked its course until the rigors of a northern climate were encountered.

Permanent Settlement

The State of Ohio, consisting geographically of a portion of the great and almost boundless territory of the Northwest, was admitted into the Union in 1803, and the next year something of a growing movement began towards the upper waters of the Miami, and this movement crossed the south line of the county as now defined in 1805. This then is the inaugural year of the new era which is to become the old, for it appears pretty well established that the family of James Thatcher ventured within the present limits of the county some time during the year in question. It is further claimed, with some degree of force, that the families of John Wilson, James Cannon, Samuel Marshall, the Mellingers, Careys, and McClures came here between 1805 and 1810, and so constituted the pioneer class of permanent settlers within the borders of the county as now constituted. These families, and those which followed them during the next few years, all settled within the present limits of the south tier of townships in the valleys of the Miami and Loramic, thus securing the lands least subjected to water, as an undulating or drifting topography gave a natural drainage to which some of the remoter parts of the county were not subjected. This original settlement became permanent, although its growth was slow enough, and even stopped entirely during the troubles which attended the War of 1812. After that war and its attendant Indian troubles had been settled, a new and vigorous tide of emigration set in, and inaugurated the era of constant growth, which ultimately grasped the whole county, and extended itself away to the north and west without even regard for State much less for county lines. These settlers came here in the midst of the forest, and the difficulties and hardships of pioneer life must be measured by the adverse surroundings and inhospitality of wild and savage forces. The land was groaning under a burden of timber, and so a great many of the early settlers turned their attention to the chase as the only certain method of gaining a subsistence. Neither was this a precarious modeof subsistence; following to the variety and abundance of game, hunting and trapping was rewarded by the procurement of the real necessaries of life. Statistics show that by these pursuits a considerable revenue was derived, and through this the settlers were for a time enabled to pay their taxes.

The land was timbered and required years in clearing, and so was not calculated for extensive farming at the outset. Neither would it have proved profitable, owing to the distance to markets, and the inferior modes of transportation. This latter must have been accomplished by wagon, and for a time a wagon road over which anything of a load could be drawn was not known to this whole section. The old trails opened as paths in the direction of the nearest settlements, but these trails were not calculated for heavy carriage. There was thus little at the beginning to induce the settlers to produce anything beyond a supply of actual necessaries, as it must first be attended by great and severe toil, and then for want of a market prove unprofitable. Take these conditions anywhere, and development will move slowly under their discouraging influence.

The immediate outlook must have been discouraging at times, but the pioneer was made of stuff too hardy and too brave to be discouraged by the hardships of his lot. He had deliberately weighed the matter, and, after coming here, was not to become despondent in the presence of the very conditions he had anticipated. Hardy as well as industrious he could wait as well as work, and the unity of those attributes, labor and continuance, enabled him to triumph over nature's wilds, and so to work out that great transformation which produced gardens and fruitful fields from a wild, unpromising wilderness. The pioneer never allowed his confidence in the future to waver, but kept up a warfare with the forests, clearing a little here and a little there, until he was no longer dependent upon the chase, but substituted the cultivation of the soil for the pursuit of game.

Having in this chapter referred to the unsettled condition and dangers during the War of 1812, it is proper to recall one or two incidents corroborative of the text.

Although not occurring within the present limits of this county, yet the murder of David Garrard and Henry Dilbone and wife by the Indians on Spring Creek, Miami County, August 18, 1813, is of pathetic, if not mournful, interest to some of our readers. As nearly as possible we present the facts touching this triple tragedy in brief but circumstantial form.

making shingles in the timber some distance from Garrard's house. On their return to work after dinner they were fired on by two Indians. Garrard was wounded and disabled, white Ross was unhurt. The latter started for the house, but was followed by one Indian, who kept up the chase until very near the house, when he was called back by the Indian who remained with the wounded Garrard. Leaving Ross, this Indian returned to his companion. It is claimed that Ross then ran to Staunton, and gave the alarm to a company of volunteers who were drilling at that place. Garrard's remains were discovered the same evening,' and from the marks at hand it appeared evident he had defended himself bravely with clubs, wounded though he was. By night the settlers and their families had been warned, and repaired for safety to the blockhouses provided for such occasions of danger.

On the same day, August 18, Henry Dilbone, living on Spring Creek, four miles north of the scene of Garrard's mnrdcr, left his house, accompanied by his wife and four children, to go a little distance to a field of flax, then readj r to be pulled. This field lay beyond a field of corn through which the family passed. The babe, a child of nine months, was placed in the care of John, a boy of seven years. The parents entered upon their work, and after a short time the little girl, named Margaret, aged five years, went home to get a drink. This act saved her from witnessing that double tragedy which left her a helpless orphan. On her return through 'the cornfield, she met John with the babe and their little sister, and from him learned the horrible story of Indian barbarity. As best he could, John made known to his sister that the Indians had shot their father and tomahawked their mother, and that both were dead, where a few moments before little Margaret had left them at work. The children then repaired to the house, entered it, and bolting the door, gave their first thoughts to lulling the babe to sleep. A neighboring woman chancing to coine to the house, finding the door bolted, had her fears aroused on hearing some of the children within, and inquired what the}' were doing, and why they had fastened the door. On hearing the story of the children, she became frightened and fled to the nearest block-house.

About sunset Win. McKinney approached the DilboHe home, and was admitted by the children, who again related the awful story of their parents' murder. McKinney feigned disbelief, but John offered to prove the truth of his story, by going to the flax field. On reaching the field they found Mrs. Dilbone lying on her face, with a ghastly wound on the back of her neck, rather between her shoulders. Mr. Dilbone was not found at once. Near by, however, was found the Indian's gun, blanket, and scalping-knife. John's story related how his father uttered a loud exclamation when the first shot was fired, and then ran into the cornfield; that instantly two Indians sprang over the fence and came toward his mother; that he knew the Indian who carried a gun ; that his mother alsokuew him, and called him George, saying, "George, don't kill him!" and that the Indian replied, "hush! or I will kill you!" Mrs. Dilbone then screamed and started to run, when she was struck down with a hatchet. Her position when found also indicated the fact that she must have turned and been trying to escape when she was struck.

John further related - the Indians came and looked at the children for a moment; that one had a gun and the other was unarmed, and was only a boy; that suddenly the one having the gun threw it and his blanket and knife upon the ground, and both ran away as fast as they could. McKinney then picked up the gun, and returned with John to the house. There he loaded both Dilbone's and the Indian's gun, took the children in charge, and started in the twilight for his home. A general alarm was soon given, and by midnight all who could be warned had gathered at McKinney's house, where it was resolved to go to Winan's station, a post about six miles distant, under cover of darkness.

Such were the fearful consequences of that fateful 18th of August. The next day a scouting party went to the Dilbone farm, and found Mrs. Dilbone as she was left the evening before. Search was then made for Mr. Dilbone, during which Captain Dye heard a faint call which was repeated, and led to the discovery of the dying man. He was out of the field, lying in the woods, and when found, helpless as he was, he asked for his wife and children, to hear the awful truth. He then asked to see his wife, and her body was carried in his presence. Endeavoring to rise upon his elbow, to give his wife one last, lingering gaze, he fell back heavily, and immediately expired. A box was then made, in which both bodies were placed, while they were conveyed on a sled to their place of burial, on the north side of the Urbana road. The children, all as yet too young to realize their terrible loss, were taken in charge by friends, and their descendants arc still found in this county.