Historical collections of Ohio in two volumes, an encyclopedia of the state, Volume II, Part 9

Author: Howe, Henry, 1816-1893
Publication date: 1907
Publisher: Cincinnati : Published by the state of Ohio
Number of Pages: 916

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Thursday, April 27, 1836, the Ohio State Anti-Slavery Convention held its anniversary in Granville. No room could be obtained for it in the village. A remonstrance was signed by seventy-five men-including the mayor, recorder, and members of the council-many of them prominent citizens and of two classes : those who abominated abolition and those whose motive was to avoid a disturbance of the peace.

The anti-slavery party yielded so far as not to meet in the village, and-gathered in a large barn owned by Mr. A. A. Bancroft. This they named "The Hall of Freedom."

The day of the Convention the village was crowded with men of opposing factions. The anti-slavery faction was headed by sneh men as President Mahan and Professor Cowles, of Oberlin College ; Hon. J. G. Birney, of Cincinnati, and kindred spirits. The other, numbering about 200 men, was a miscellaneous mob gathered from all parts of the county and without definite plan or leaders. They tried to get a militia captain to organize and lead them, but failed ; they spent the day in harangues, in bobbing abolitionists' horses, and in drilling by squads.

The mayor purposely absented himself that day, and the constable declined to act until the afternoon brought violence.

The abolitionists quietly assembled and pro- ceeded with their business. Word was sent to them that if they did not adjourn by a given time, they would be assailed. They

determined on self-defence, if attacked, and Mr. Bancroft, with a log-chain, secured the gate leading to the barn, thus making it nec- essary for assailants to scale the fence. A load of hoop-poles was brought from James Langdon's cooper-shop ; each one was cut in two, affording an abundant supply of shil- lalahs in case of necessity.

At 2 P. M. the Convention had finished its business and adjourned sine die. In the mean- while the mob had gathered in the village, at the corner of Prospect and Broad streets, and were prepared to meet the members of the Convention as they came up the street in procession, with the ladies' school of Misses Grant and Bridges (which had suspended for the day to attend the Convention) in the centre.

The two crowds came in collision. A part of the mob gave way and allowed the proces- sion to move partially through its outskirts ; but the mass of them resisted, and the pro- cession was crowded into the middle of the street. As the excitement increased the mob began to hoot and cry for Samuel White and William Whitney-abolition lecturers con- spicuous among the escort.

The procession closed in together and quickened their pace as the mob pressed upon them. One prominent citizen was heard to shout, "Egg the squaws !" Eggs and other missiles began to fly. Efforts were made to trip the ladies in the procession.

Near the centre of the town a student of the college and a lady he was escorting were pushed into a ditch. Hastening to place the lady among friends, the student returned, found his assailant, and knocked him down. This incident precipitated a general free fight. The student made a gallant fight, laying sev- eral of the mob in the dust before he was overpowered by numbers. At the rear of the procession a furnace man got an aboli- tionist down, and was pounding him unmer- cifully, when a citizen interfered, crying, "Get off ; you're killing him !" "Wh-wh- why," said the man, who was a stammerer, . "I s'posed I'd g-g-got to k-k-kill him, and he 'aint d-d-dead yet !" and he gave him another blow. A little farther on, several of the mob had laid hands on two of the young ladies. Citizens endeavored to hold back the mob and protect them until they could reach

LICKING COUNTY.

places of safety, when one of them sank to the ground from fright, but soon gained cour- age enough to flee to a place of refuge.

The march had changed to the double- quick and almost a rout. But the ladies all reached places of safety, as did most of the men. Individual abolitionists were caught and assaulted. Eggs were thrown and there was more or less personal injury. Mr. An- derson, the constable, came upon the scene of action on horseback, and sought to use his authority. He was very unceremoniously dragged from his horse and treated with in- dignity. The closing scene was the ride of Judge Birney past the mob, now re-assem- bling at the hotel. He started from Dr.

Bancroft's, on his awfully bobbed horse, rode slowly by the mob, while they pelted him on every side with eggs; and when past the reach of their missiles, he put spurs to his horse, and in that plight rode out of town. An immediate reaction followed this out- break, and the citizens were filled with shame that such violence should be done in their midst. The same evening an abolition meet- ing was held in the stone school-house on the Welsh Hills, without molestation. The abo, lition party received great accessions as a re- sult of the day's work, and soon Granville became a well-known station on the Great Northwestern Underground Railroad.

TRAVELLING NOTES.

GRANVILLE is, perhaps, the most peculiar, unique village in the State. It was for a long period "a chunk" of the old-time New England set down in Central Ohio. There is much in the place to remind one of those ancient days, especially in the graveyards. Granville, at this hour, is a spot where learning welcomes you as you enter, looks down upon you from the hills as you pass throughi, and bids you farewell as you leave at the farther end. In other words, at each end of the main street is a female seminary, while on a hill, overlooking all, stands Dennison University.

I came over from Newark Thursday after- noon, June 17th, in a hack-a ride of six miles through the broad and beautiful valley of the Raccoon. I noticed some fine elms on the margin of wheat-fields; one of perfect symmetry, shaped like a weeping-willow. The Ohio elm has not the height nor the grandeur of the New England elm. Enter- ing the village about 4 P. M., I found it to be class-day at the greeting institution. The exercises were over, but on the lawn, under the trees, was a bevy of maidens in white, with one gray-bearded patriarch among them -probably the teaching sire of the flock. The village street was ornamented with the moving figures of the nymplis, and. entering a photograph gallery, I found it filled with them, looking their prettiest for their sun pictures.

Granville is mainly on a single street called Broadway, 100 feet wide from curb to curb. It is well lined with trees, while the dwellings stand well back, half' concealed in masses of shrubbery. The village has a peculiar air of refined neatness and purity, rendering it one of the sweetest spots I know of anywhere. The Baptist Church in its centre is a structure of unusual beauty : it is in Gothic archi- tecture, and built of light-blue limestone from Sandusky. The Welsh Baptists and the New England Congregationalists alike

got a good grip upon this favored spot when the century was young.

The next morning, by a gentle-winding path, I went up the hill that overhangs the village, on which stands the University, and resting under some trees enjoyed the scene. I looked down upon the nestling village below me with its rising spires, and then stretching for miles away the broad and beautiful valley of the Raccoon, a rolling landscape of gentle hills, with here and there golden wheat-fields in a setting of livid green -there were farms, forests and sentinel trees upon the slopes and in the meadows of the valley, while over all was the tender blue sky and floating cumulus snowy-white clouds to flit their shadows. And life was around me, the moving figures of refined-looking youths and maidens on the grassy hill-side, their laughing voices gladdening the air as they passed by me to the college chapel. Pres- ently the sound of music arose from therein, then died away, and the day wore on, calmly wore on over a picture of earthly beauty. The strange, unknown people who built the ancient works knew the superlative attractions of this favored valley, and from here to Newark, for a space of six miles, have left numerous monuments of their labors, showing it was once densely populated.

A DAY AMONG THE GRAVES,

Excepting that at Marietta I know of no ancient graveyard in Ohio to compare in interest with that at Granville. It is called the "Old Burying Ground," and was established in 1805. It is in the valley, within five minutes walk of the

LICKING COUNTY.

centre of the village, contains three acres, and is partly enclosed by a stone wall. I visited it June 18, in company with Mr. Chas. W. Bryant, President of the Granville Historical Society.

The dead who lie buried here are about 2,000 in number, thus nearly doubling the living population of the village. The spot is thickly dotted with grave stones, largely sandstone slabs, many of the older ones with elaborately carved artistic, eccentric devices and quaint inscriptions. Many of the stones are leaning over and in varied directions, making it evident that their friends, whose duty it is to keep them in order, have also passed away or gone hence. Sunken graves abound densely carpeted with myrtle, concealing the treacherous hollows beneath, and rendering careful footsteps in certain places a necessity.

I here copy from my notes while among the graves. "This is a spot for melancholy and purifying emotion. Such a graveyard with its relics of the past is invested with tenfold the interest of a modern, ornate cemetery. Here the fathers sleep under their sculptured monuments, which not only preserve the art of their time, but give the theological ideas and the simple-hearted culture which guided their lives and made them a strong, heroic people. This place, with its never-ending lesson of the brevity of life, with its dilapidated leaning stones and time-eaten inscriptions, should be held sacred by the villagers with the same sort of vener- ation as that which puts a continued watch over the most famous of all graves-that of Shakespeare.

GOOD FREND FOR IESVS SAKE FORBEARE, TO DICO THE DUST ENCLOSED HABE BLESE BE Y MAN Y SPARES HE'S STONES, AND CVRST BE HE Y MOVES MY BONES

"Such are the thoughts I pencil upon the spot in the sun of a fine June morning, with a persistent robin singing from a cedar hard bye, joined in with an occasional note from a Baltimore oriole, whose whereabouts I am unable to learn. I write seated upon the edge of the base of an overturned slab, which is elaborately carved in alto-relievo on top with vase and cloth. The slab lies buried flat in the grass and myrtle growth, and with all due respect to the memory of her who lies buried here I rest my feet upon the in- scription, which reads :

'Sacred to the memory of Mrs. Abigail Boardman, relict of Moses Boardman, who departed this life Feb. Ist, 1820, in the 51st year of her age.

" 'To the grave her children resigned her consoled with the assured hope that her departed spirit is at rest with Christ, and that in the resurrection of the dead she will be raised and appear with him in glory.'

"The tears shed for her demise have long been exhaled. The grass of sixty-six suc- cessive years has come and gone from over this spot. That of the present year now dots the graveyard in picturesque cones of fragrance, while a tethered cow six rods away is busy swinging her tail and gathering sustenance from the cropped herbage in the little vale on the margin of the place.

Blessings upon old muley, who teaches by example the virtues of meekness and humility !

" In this venerated spot lie buried, not only several soldiers of the American Revolution, but at least one of the old French and Indian war who, for aught we know, was with Wolfe at the storming of Quebec. On his stone is inscribed :

"'Jonathan Benjamin, died August 26tb, 1841, aged 102 years, and 10 months, and 12 days .- Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, yea saith the Spirit that they may rest. from their labors and their works do follow them, ' "

This ends my notes in the graveyard. Mr. Bryant, who was the Old Mortality of this region, had copied into a book all the inscrip- tions that could be deciphered, and therein they are numbered, 928 in all. Among them are those of the parents of HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT, the historian of the Pacific coast ..

We copy a few inscriptions from his book. The first is that of Deacon Rose. It gives interesting personal items. The old style graveyards are rich in history and biography, for the lack of which the modern cemetery is shorn of one great source of interest and instruction.

"Erected to the memory of Deacon Lemuel Rose, who died September 13, 1835, aged 71 years and 4 months. Born in Granville, Mass. A Revolutionary soldier. Emigrated with the first company of settlers. Drove the first team on the town-plot. Led the devotions of the first Sabbath assembly. Was twenty-two years deacon of the Granville Congregational Church. Was faithful, con- sistent, generous. His graces shone with a brighter and brighter lustre till his death."

A large number of the inscriptions are of children, some of which I copy entirely and others only their elegial verse.

No. 928. An infant son of Eliza and Clarissa Abbot, died October 21, 1824. Joyless sojourner was I, Only born to gasp and die.

No. 694. Norman William, son of Aaron and Phoebe Bean, died July 13, 1828, aged 18 months and 13 days :

The Saviour called me from the earth Ere I engaged in sinful mirth,

From Photograph by Elliott, Columbus.

PORTRAIT OF T. D. JONES, SCULPTOR.

TO JONE'S SCULPTOR 18. 12,1811 2.27.1881

S. P. Tresize, Photo., Granville. THE WELSH FILLS BURYING-GROUND.

LICKING COUNTY.

To sing with saints in ceaseless light, Around the throne with cherubs bright ; Where babes like me are ever blest And in the arms of Jesus rest !

No. 547. The Gardener came and with one stroke He from the root the offspring took, Took from the soil wherein it grew And hid it from the parents' view.

No. 557. Oh, William, dear, my darling child, The treasure of my heart ; Why was it that I should be called With thee so soon to part ?

No. 597. Time is winging us away To our eternal home ;

Life is but a winter day, A journey to the tomb.

No. 763. Sereno Wright also talks from the grave :

O poor worm of the dust and food for worms ! Reader ! the same, the same fate awaits thee

too ;

And soon, too soon, that such a being ever lived

Will not be known.

No. 871. To the memory of Samuel Thrall, Jr., who died February 10, 1830, aged 42 years :

Oh, think not that you are safe when in your health :

The kick of a horse was the means of my death.

No. 668.

To home, my friends ; dry up your tears ; For I shall rise when Christ appears.

From the old burying-ground Mr. Bryant drove me to the WELSH HILLS CEMETERY. What is called the Welsh quarter comprises the northeastern part of Granville and goes under the general name of the Welsh Hills. Mr. Bryant told me that the Welsh were fast losing their national characteristic : the young people go much to other churches. The Welsh I have met seemed to me a wiry people with thoughtful faces, and with a capacity for the best sort of things. fat, pussy, flabby Welshman is a rara avis.

The artistic work on the Granville sandstone monuments was largely done by two Welsh stone-cutters, one Hughes and my old friend " Poor Tom Jones," whom, from his genius, Donn Piatt called "an inspired stone-cutter." He began on monuments before essaying busts. Mr. Bryant showed me a statuette, the first work of art by Jones other than on monuments. It is the bust of an old man cut from a block of sandstone, wearing spectacles, cravat, and hat, and quite comic in character.

It is an interesting historical fact that in this very township were two such diverse colonies as Yankees and Welshmen, each equally strong in religion, only differing in the use of the kind of words in which they expressed their ideas and the use of water in church ministrations, for these were Welsh Baptists. Alike in their hearts, they could but acknowledge the force of the truth so touchingly told in the verse of Longfellow in the last utterance of Sir Humphrey Gilbert :

" He sat upon the deck, The book was in his hand ; Do not fear : 'Heaven is near,' He said, 'by water as by land.'"

Hitching the horse at the gate we entered the cemetery, whereupon myriads of grass- hoppers arose at every step and literally came "as grasshoppers for multitude," and such that no man could number. They appeared to have been holding a levee just there, which was a sandy, sun-exposed spot. I know of no creature that gets so much hilarity out of short jumps as the grasshopper ; the toad is altogether too solemn and contemplative, and when at last he decides to go it is but a feeble accomplishment.

In the old style graveyards of our fathers at the East, they being generally located upon

poor sandy soil, grasshoppers, I found, used to abound. So that the grasshopper has naturally a graveyard association, even if we did not find it scripturally so.

"And the GRASSHOPPER shall be a burden, and desire shall fail; because man goeth to his long home and the mourners go about the streets.'

The cemetery is on the summit of a very high hill, an expansive lonely spot, with a grand out-look of miles to the east-southeast over a magnificent pastoral region. I am told that Granville is the banner township of Ohio in its number of sheep and cattle, and

LICKING COUNTY.

from the looks of the country around me I could well believe it.

We early came to a large marble slab, six feet by three feet, one end upon the ground and the other resting upon a pile of stones, about four feet high, sloping like a roof. On its upturned face was this inscription :

On this spot was erected in 1809 the first meeting-house of the Welsh Hills Baptist Church. Here also was organized in 1811 the Muskingum Baptist Association. The church was organized some forty rods east in the cabin of David Thomas, September 4, 1808, with the following members, viz. :

Theophilus Rees, Elizabeth Rees,

David Thomas, Mary Thomas,

Thomas Powell, Elizabeth James,

David Lobdell, Joshua Lobdell,

Nathan Allyn.

Near this is the monument of the Deacon Theophilus Rees, the pioneer of the Welsh colony, of whom is given a pleasant anecdote on page 329. The inscription is as follows :

In memory of Theophilus Rees, who died February 16, 1814, aged 67 years. He was a native of Caermarthenshire, near Mildrem, South Wales.

"Poor Tom Jones," the sculptor, died in Columbus, and was brought here for burial among the scenes of his boyhood. Near the summit is his burial spot, his monument, a huge granite boulder, his own device, with the simple inscription, as shown : "T. D. Joncs, sculptor, 12-12-1811 ; 2-27-1881." His father, a farmer, had several sons. He gave each the middle name of David.

The best known work of Jones is the LIN- COLN MEMORIAL in the rotundo of the State House at Columbus, for which he was com- missioned by the Ohio Monument Associa- tion. It was unveiled January 19, 1870, and is fourteen feet in height.

On its centre face is carved in alto-rilievo the scene of the surrender at Vicksburg, July 4, 1863, of Pemberton to Grant, each of whom are shown accompanied by their prin- cipal officers. It is surmounted by a co- lossal bust of Lincoln of pure white Carrara marble. On its base stands forth Lincoln's simple grand request :

Care for him who shall have borne the bat- tle, and his widow and his orphans.

Tom Jones truly was "an inspired stone- cutter." I knew Tom well. He was a fel- low-townsman of mine in Cincinnati for many years. In person he was rather short, powerfully built, with dark complexion, strong features, and walked the streets with a quick, firm, well-accented tread, showing he meant to "get there." He sculptured more busts of our eminent men, such as Chase, Seward, Lincoln, etc., than probably any other artist, and his work was masterly. His nature was eminently social. He was an amusing, interesting talker, enjoyed a good laugh, and was replete with anecdotes of the noted characters whom he had for sitters and whose lips he managed to unseal for

the outpouring of words of wisdom and hu- manity.

Our early artists had generally but a sorry time, and Tom was no exception. To wed Art was to make one a polygamist, for he had to take with her another bride, Poverty. Tom's struggle for existence rendered his last days melancholy and he died a poor, broken-hearted man.

There were some graves on this Welsh ground that rather surprised me, evidently those of young people. They were bordered with clam shells, the rounded sides upwards. Others were framed with bits of white marble, with gravel stones over the graves instead of turf or flowers. Still others there were sprinkled over with bits of marble. It is common in Wales to adorn graves with bright stones and shells from the sea, dis- posed in the form of a cross and otherwise. The soil in rocky places on the coast is often too scant for even flowers, and their bloom is at best but transient, while stones and shells abound there to please the eye the entire year around.

The inscription below from a neat marble shaft was the last one I copied. While so engaged I was interrupted by a visit from a slender, nimble little black dog, a stranger, all joy in this sad place, who came up to be petted, and, succeeding, then rolled over just once in the grass and so suddenly disap- peared I think he must have been a spirit.

John V., son of John and Catherine Price. Born July 26, 1843. Died March 24, 1867. Aged 23 years, 7 months, 28 days.

Sickness was my portion, Medicine was my food ; Groans was my devotion, Drugs did me no good.

The Lord took pity on me, Because he saw it best, And took me to his bosom, And now my soul is at rest.

In my youth in my historical tours over the different States of the East it was my habit to visit the old graveyards and copy in- scriptions. It was a melancholy sort of pleasure, but refining and instructive. One exceeding common was :

Remember, stranger, as you pass by, As you are now, so once was I ; As I am now you soon must be, Therefore prepare to follow me.

This inscription is not to my knowledge in any place in Ohio, excepting on a grave- stone in Serpent Mound Park, in Adams county, and to that some profane wag has added :

To follow you I am not content Until I learn which way you went.

Another inscription also very common in olden times at the East I know of but in one place in Ohio, and that is in the old Method-

LICKING COUNTY.

ist Burying-Ground at Worthington, which was settled in 1803 by the same sort of people as Granville. My attention was called to it by one of Ohio's ancient inhabitants, Gen. Joseph Geiger, of Columbus, whose funny speeches on the stump in the Whig cam- paigns of 1840 and later made him laughingly known all over Ohio. Mrs. Pearce'sinscription was copied direct from the stone by Mr. J. M. Milne, July 19, 1890, and it is now put where her memory will last longer than her monument.

Died, Sept. 7, 1847, Sarah, wife of Wm. Pearce, aged 59 years.

Sarah Pierce is my name, Baltimore county is my nation, Ohio is my dwelling-place, And Christ is my salvation.

Now I am dead and in my grave, Where all my bones are rotten ; When this you see remember me Lest I should be forgotten.

Dismissing the line learned in childhood that came obtruding into my mind while I was there, viz., that "Taffy was a Welsh- I left with Mr. Bryant to see the Alligator. It is a mound so called from its form. It is about a mile below Granville, on a spur of land ou the south side of the val- ley of the Raccoon. It has been thus de- scribed :

"Its extreme length is 205 feet ; average height is 4 feet, parts of it being 6 feet. The greatest breadth of body is 20 feet and the length of legs or paws is 25 feet, the ends being broader than the links, as if the spread of the toes was indicated. The superstruc- ture is of clay, which must have been brought from a distance. Upon the inner side of the effigy and about 20 feet from it is a raised space covered with stones which have been exposed to the action of fire, denominated an altar, and from this leading to the top is a narrow graded way now barely traceable."

Prof. Wilson, in his work on pre-historie man, describes this effigy and says "that it

symbolizes some object of especial awe or veneration, thus reared on one of the 'high places' of the nation, with its accompanying altar on which the ancient people of the val- ley could witness the rites of their worship, its site having been obviously selected as the most prominent natural feature in a popu- lous district abounding with military, civic and religious structures.'

Squier and Davis say it is analogous to the Serpent Mound in Adams county.

We walked up to the summit of the rounded hill by an easy ascent, and there again before us was the same magnificent valley I have before described, its patches of golden wheat in the soft repose of the lengthening shadows of the June afternoon. As my eye took in the peaceful scene I felt I was enveloped in the glory of our world.

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Historical collections of Ohio in two volumes, an encyclopedia of the state, Volume II, Part 9

Author: Howe, Henry, 1816-1893 Publication date: 1907 Publisher: Cincinnati : Published by the state of Ohio Number of Pages: 916

Author: Howe, Henry, 1816-1893
Publication date: 1907
Publisher: Cincinnati : Published by the state of Ohio
Number of Pages: 916