USA > Ohio > Allen County > History of Allen County, Ohio, and representative citizens, Part One > Part 12
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All of these men had slain the graceful deer, and had hobnobbed with "Lo" in his na- tive simplicity, before he, for gold, had hum- bled himself to become a part of the "great
and only Wild West." They had fought their country's battles, with credit to themselves and great discomfiture to their foes. Of these fa- mous Nimrods few are left to tell the stirring tales of early days.
As late as 1834, Daniel Musser killed two deer on the present site of Lima; one where the factory of The Deisel-Wemmer Company now stands, the other where the old West School Building stood. Joseph Ward shot two. deer one evening within a few minutes of each other, and Mr. Williams, our first mayor-who was the sportsman par excellence of the town- mentions in his diary the killing of a deer with 13 prongs to its antlers. Hunting consumed much valuable time, but the law of compensa- tion was as active then as now and the balsamic odors of the woods, the clear blue of the sky. the beautiful verdure of the meadows could not have failed to have a salutary effect upon the huntsman.
Mr. Williams spent the most of his life hunting and driving and no one could better il-
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lustrate the benefits of such a life than he. His whole being seemed a part of Nature. He was a rare pantheist and his life was a continued thanksgiving that the world had been so kind.
During the first year or two of our settle- ment there was little else to do besides hunt. The men often spent a great deal of time hunt- ing bee trees. These trees were hollow and were filled with honey left by the wild bees. The trees were cut down, the honey strained and used. Mr. Ward's father shipped two bar- rels of honey to Urbana, for which he received 50 cents a gallon. Samuel McClure found a great lot of honey which was not fit to eat, and he made it into a drink called "methelgin," which affected one as quickly as whisky and in somewhat the same way. It is needless to say it was a prime favorite with the Indians.
Josh Hover was the greatest of wags. There was nothing he would not do when ban- tered to, and no reminiscence would be com- plete without one or two of Josh's pranks. He is a bright spot on the mental horizon of the "oldest inhabitant." One day when the rain was descending in that peculiarly steady and soaking fashion common in this locality, Cole Pangle made the offer of half a dollar to any one who would go out and sit in the middle of the Square for half an hour. Josh got up, filled and lighted his pipe, took his chair, and proceeded to earn his 50 cents.
The Indians as a rule were very friendly to the whites and particularly so to the young boys of the settlement. W. H. C. Mitchell used to accompany them on their hunting expeditions when he was but a lad of seven or eight years. When he became tired, the chief Quilna would carry him on his back. The Indian traded with the settler much to the advantage of the latter; often in exchange for a cup of salt, the settler would receive an entire deer.
When Pht or Fallen Timber died, the en- tire male population for miles around attended his funeral. The chief was buried near the old Council House in Shawnee township. His wife and daughter dug the grave ; split pun- cheons were used for a coffin, and a large num- ber of trinkets were cast into the grave. After the burial, a beef was killed and a feast held
after the custom of the Indians. Mr. Mitchell, together with his father and some neighbors, took dinner at the home of Little Fox, and Mr. Mitchell says it was as good a meal as he ever ate
When Mr. Richardson taught school in an old building where A. N. Smith's foundry afterward was, the pupils had some merry times. Geese at that stage in the town's devel- opment ran at will over the village and were re- garded as common property ; the first one get- ting the eggs possessed them in fee simple. One old goose had a nest in the shavings under Edmund S. Linn's wood-pile, where Musser's house afterward stood. One noon the boys and girls saw the goose go onto her nest, but as luck would have it the academy bell just then pealed out its unwelcome call to duty and the children were compelled to obey the summons, as the schoolmaster was a stern disciplinarian, whose word was law. But there was little studying done that afternoon. Had the goose been of the golden egg variety, she would not have been the subject of greater solicitude. As soon as school was dismissed there was a stam- pede made for the nest, Will Watt and Pauline Tompkins taking the lead. After a struggle short but exciting, Watt won, and taking the prize home he cooked it, generously dividing it with his brother Jack.
In 1848 when the Whig President, Zach- ary Taylor, was elected, there was a jollifi- cation meeting held in the Public Square, con- ducted by W. H. C. Mitchell. They had a gum sycamore tree, 10 barrels of tar and three or four loads of fire-balls. It was near mid- night and most of the crowd had dispersed. Hance Crookstan, his brother Tom, Miller Soules, George Saint, E. P. and E. S. Cole, Jake Watt and little Sammie Baxter with a few others were still on the ground waiting. as did the immortal Micawber, "for something to turn up." Unlike that unfortunate gentleman's experience, what they waited for did happen and in this wise : An old one-horse wagon came in sight filled with a crowd of fellows who at once began to bother the town boys and wanted to fight. The captain of the crowd got down from the wagon and said he would whip the
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"hull" crowd. The boys after a council of war decided to accept the challenge. Six or eight armed themselves with stones and because he was the youngest and the smallest they put Baxter forward to give the lie to their op- ponents. Samuel stepped to the front and yelled, "You lie and dassent take it up" and then the fun began. The captain landed several telling blows on poor Baxter, whereupon there developed a general free-for-all fight. The doughty captain was pounded into something bearing a strong resemblance to jelly. His friends put him into the wagon and started for Allentown. The next day he left for Wiscon- sin and has never been heard of since.
The pioneer gentlemen in full dress made a handsome picture-"Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." There was the blue broadcloth coat with brass buttons, white vest, yellow buckram trousers, low shoes, white socks, white beaver hat, and a black silk stock about four inches high around the neck, surmounted by a white collar. The outfit was pretty, was always constructed of the richest material, was very generally worn and always accompanied by a gold-headed cane.
In those days there was no County In- firmary, nor comfortable Children's Home and it frequently happened that the pauper poor- men, women and children-were sold at auc- tion at the door of the Court House in Lima.
Rev. Constant Southworth taught a win- ter term of school in the Presbyterian Church in 1836-37, which was in some respects at least the counterpart of Dickens' "Dotheboy's Hall." On warm days he brought a yoke of oxen to school, with which he demonstrated natural philosophy. After warming up the boys and oxen, by having them hustle the logs about on the adjacent lots, the pupils were treated to learned dissertations on the inclined plane, and many more interesting things which, no doubt. failed to make a lasting impression upon the youthful minds of the day. Mr. Southworth combined, with this practical school of his, in- struction on the peripatetic plan, for while the boys were plowing the girls took lessons in botany, which consisted in roaming at will
through the fields plucking spring beauties and anemones.
The following story of Dr. Cunningham is one which illustrates the dry humor of the man : After an arduous day's work he was sum- moned to make a call five miles away. His horse, having gone hard all day, did not start out with the, alacrity the messenger wished, who called out : "Doc, you must ride like the devil, she's awful sick." "Well," replied the Doctor, "I don't know his gait, but you try it, and old Cæsar and I will try to imitate you the best we can.'
In 1843 or 1844 the creek had gone dry as it often did in the summer. The water-mills had stopped grinding and the people went hun- gry until the horse or ox-mills did the grind- ing. One day the bread gave out at the home of John Fay and David, one of the boys, had shelled the corn and started out early in the morning with the corn loaded on horseback, toward Carnes' mill, some seven miles distant, northeast of Lima. David had to wait all day for his flour, and left the mill just at dusk. He was a timid child and the prospect was anything but pleasant. The way lay through a dense forest most of the dis- tance, and the report that a panther had been seen lurking in that part of the country added to the terror of his night's ride; every rustle of the leaves, every sound in the underbrush, had the effect of raising the poor boy's hair on his head. The little fellow got safely home, and no doubt the necessity of doing his duty, although it was hard, prepared him for many experiences in after life. It was in such a school that these carly settlers were trained, and it developed in them that sterner stuff from which heroes are made.
Cooking in the pioneer families was done by means of a fireplace. Ask any old settler, and he will tell you that nothing can rival in flavor the corn cakes spread on a board and baked before the fire.
The following story is told of "Lo." which goes to confirm the saying that the only good Indian is a dead one. One day in the fall of 1841, attention was attracted by a noise in the
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rear of Musser's tavern. Upon investigation there was discovered an Indian who had taken a drop too much of fire-water, and the mental aberration induced thereby caused him to rest his head between the two upper bars of the gate. He was slowly but surely choking to death, being too far gone to assist himself in the least. He bellowed like the scriptural bull of Bashan, and his roaring aroused the cattle in the adjoining stables who caught up the re- frain, and pandemonium reigned supreme. The noise brought all the people in the village, both Indians and whites, to the scene, and as soon as it was ascertained what the matter was, the captive was released and went on his way, if not exactly rejoicing, a sadder and a wiser man.
Mathias H. Nichols, vividly remembered by but few, was perhaps the brightest as well as the most prominent citizen of the county 50 years ago. He was nominated and elected to Congress at 26 years of age and was twice re- elected.
Michael Leatherman was the first probate judge under the new constitution, and was also a member of the Legislature.
Nichols used to tell this story: He was traveling through the country on horseback, when at an awful mud-hole he found Leather- man sitting in a horseless buggy sound asleep. After considerable effort he aroused the sleeper. Rubbing his eyes, Leatherman re- marked : "Well, Nick, if I'm Mike Leatherman, I've lost a horse. If I'm not Mike Leatherman, I've found a buggy."
Leatherman and John Collett occupied the same office. In order that each might have a key they put two locks on the door. Mike went out, locked the door and John crawled out the window.
Quilna, one of the Indians, was a very smart and crafty old man. Mr. Breese made a bargain with the old chief whereby he was to give Quilna a hog in exchange for a deer, which was to be a young fat doe.
Quilno killed the deer, but hung it in the woods for two or three days until it com- menced to turn. The hog therefore was not forthcoming. Mr. Breese explained why he did not want the deer, but Quilna pretended
not to understand. "He fat," said the chief. "Yes," responded Mr. Breese. "He doe." "Very true," admitted Breese. "He young," continued the Indian. "Yes, I'll admit that, but I don't want it, it's bad, it doesn't smell good." Quilna seemed sunk in a deep quandary, but finally gave a grunt of satisfaction, saying, "Ah, me know, he too dead."
The Baxter and Meily families were the best of friends, and at one time lived together in the same dwelling. Mrs. Baxter had an old woman who used to come and help her about the house. She never demanded cash payment for her labors but always wanted some commodity in exchange for her toil. As she finished one day, Mrs. Baxter said : "Well, Auntie, what shall I give you for your day's work?" The old lady said she would like to have some soap with which to wash her clothes. Mrs. Baxter responded that she had no good soap, that what she had come from the ashery and made the clothes yellow. Mrs. Meily, hearing the conversation, sent downstairs by her daughter Olivia (afterward Mrs. Calvin S. Brice) some soap which she had just made. Mrs. Baxter took the soap, and turning to the old lady said: "Auntie, the Lord has heard you and sent you some soap." "Why, he didn't, either," said the child, "my mother sent it." She did not propose that Providence should get the credit that was due her mother.
The late Judge Metcalf would relate the fol- lowing : Under the ancient regime in good old Virginia, the mother of States and of lawyers, the fundamental law of that Commonwealth raised the senior justice of the peace of the county to tlie dignity of sheriff. An old gen- tleman, who had passed through the several grades of justice and finally attained to the office of sheriff, determined to cast his lot across the border on Ohio soil and engage in law prac- tice. With this view, and under the impres- sion that by virtue of the official experience above mentioned. he would be competent to discharge the duties of an attorney before any Ohio court, lie confidently demanded admission to the bar in the county he had selected for his residence. He was advised, however. that under the Ohio system it would be necessary to
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pursue a course of study with a preceptor, which would entitle him in due form to be ad- mitted to the bar. He accordingly entered his name but being under the firm conviction that he possessed a better knowledge of law than the Ohio attorneys he put very little time in study. At the end of the two years he presented him- self to the committee of the bar. A few ques- tions relating to elementary principles of law were put to him which he was unable to answer satisfactorily. The Virginian, finally, in much perplexity observed: "I tell you what it is, gentlemen, I never did pretend to be much of a Blackstun lawyer, but you once take me on the Virginny statoots, and you'll find me thar." He retired from the disgusting ordeal in high and dignified dudgeon.
When an early term of the Supreme Court was held at Findlay, Judge Wood presiding, he in company with the usual party of lawyers left Findlay for Defiance and Kalida. Their law-books, papers, etc., were carried around with them and were packed in saddle-bags, which were thrown across the backs of the horses. At a certain house they halted to get some water to wash down their "drink." Hitch- ing their horses to the outside of the fence, the party went inside the yard. One of the horses reached his nose over and upset a bee-hive which stood pust inside, upon which ensued a lively scene. The horses made for "tall timber," scattering saddle-bags and contents far and wide. The court pursued the fugitive horses, recovering them only after much delay and rac- ing through the woods and after much fretting and fuming. The "library," saddle-bags, and bridles also, had suffered much damage.
LIMA'S FIRST CIRCUS.
It was in August of 1850, just 55 years ago this month, that the coming of the first circus caused such a flutter of excitement throughout Lima. The bill posters came into the little straggling village without warning one summer morning, and by night their wonderful banners were on the outer walls of the whole town.
Maybe the posters were not as large as those employed at the present, maybe the
drawing was not so artistic, nor the blending of the colors so harmonious as critics of the pres- ent day might demand, but in that happier time they left nothing to be desired.
It really seemed that every dead wall, every fence, every surface which could carry a poster had been drafted into service; and there was a gorgeous, bewildering, extravagant, but delir- ious promise of joy, wherever the eye might turn.
How well I remember those pictures; the three stupendous elephants, dancing in an ap- parent delight, which tallied with the genuine pleasure they inspired; the great golden char- iot, which linked this coming marvel with the magnificence of King David; William Strong, the daring four-horse rider, who set the older boys to trying such feats as cost them many a fall; Yankee Sullivan, the great American clown, who was funny even in this counter- feit presentment.
And there were ponies so small and so beautiful that it seemed not impossible that they might trot right down from their place in the printed bills to become our pets and com- panions. There were acrobats doing feats which the Hercules of that distant day con- fessed himself unable to accomplish.
There were pictured young women with skirts astonishingly short, and with such wealth of gauzy finery as convinced us that they must be more than human. Men stood and gazed at these posters, forgetting that circuses were most immoral. Children ran away from school and crept with some difficulty through the groups of men about the bill-boards. Wo- men, for once, like the Priest and the Levite, passed by on the other side, and only the brav- est among them glanced across, for they might not expect the rewards of virtue if they shared the delights of sin.
The circus came from the West. Allen- town, four miles out, was the gathering point for scores of young men that morning. It was the home of Major General Blackburn, com- mander of the Militia in Northwestern Ohio, and the circus must pass his place. That wel- coming delegation, that escort company, was an excited throng. Wagers were offered that
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the mighty elephants would break through the bridge at Hog Creek, and all were sadly disap- pointed when the intelligent creatures took to the water, waded across and continued their journey.
The country was new. Forests stretched endlessly in every direction. The roads kept to the high places where possible, finding secur- ity at the expense of distance, or when a swamp must be crossed the cheap device of corduroys jolted the vehicles to firmer ground.
The escort company came hurrying along with the elephants and wagons, keeping along- side, commenting between breaths and telling to their belated comrades the sights they had seen.
The tent was pitched on an open common where the crossing of High and Elizabeth streets falls now.
Ah! What a crowd was there! Where they came from in that day of scattered settlements, I cannot understand. Perhaps there were not so many as there seemed. But it was a host- and every member was devoted to a day of pleasure unalloyed.
Will Watt had no money; but his native ingenuity got him on the enchanted ground, and into the enchanted tent and his native for- titude carried him through the walloping that followed when the day was done. Martha Richardson's father took her to the "show," and she has confessed in later years that she has never been nearer Heaven than on that wondrous day.
It was a fair morning and the young wo- men wore their finery. The young men dressed in their Sunday clothes. They strolled about the unpaved streets, went in and out of the meagre stores, fell into groups and greeted friends ; but mainly kept the big flapping tent of the circus in sight.
Some of the men drank more than they should. Some tried their luck at games and tricks which shrewd strangers brought, and were despoiled of their money. But when the moment came for opening the doors, all com- mon things were forgotten in the rush for en- trance. There was a strange mass about the ticket wagon, where a most deft man made
change, and then it was a nervous excited col- umn, kept into limits by the waist-high ropes and directed through the labyrinths of canvas to the new world of a circus interior.
Before the tardy ones came in, the rain began to fall. It was a mild and unimportant shower at first, then it swelled into a storm, and the drenching sluices of the rain poured against the tent. The wind blew but not enough to frighten. And in this wonderland the show went on. In the precious half hour that pre- ceded the play, we wandered about and looked at the "great menagerie." It must have been slender enough in all conscience, but everything was wonderful.
And when the seats were filled, when all the unbacked benches stretching in a rising slope from earth to the distant wind-swept eaves of the tent were occupied, there came that blast of music from the band, and then the "Grand Entrance." The women with silks and velvets and much finery, with cheeks marvel- ously red, and with a grace unspeakable, the men in coats of gorgeous hue, with gold and silver lavishly adorning them, the horses with such saddles and such bridles as Northwestern Ohio had not seen, the band with melodies that finished and completed all our transports of delight, and the circus had begun. The strident cries of the impertinent young men, selling confections or summer drinks, had ceased. The wind might blow, the rain might fall, the world might cease its revolution, nothing could disturb the deep and rooted fascination of the show. The feats of jugglery ; the man who rode the four horses and lashed them till they seemed to fly like light about the ring ; the strong man who challenged any one to lift his weights; the women who rode horses and blew kisses from their fingertips to the young men best attended. No one can tell it all. It is not a thing of earth to be reduced to ink and type.
And it was all over at last. The clown had sung his last song and had "cracked" his last joke. The boy with his candies and the sharper with his tools were again at work. But the crowd drifted past them. Women were drenched, for the rain had come through the
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canvas which may have been rent and torn. Men were muddy, and not so patient as they might have been. The ground outside was spongy from the storm, and trodden into mire by unnumbered feet. The drooping horses, waiting shelterless, were ready for the heavy home journey.
And then came the hour for settling scores. Boys who ran away must pay the penalty. Women who had gone must pass the gauntlet of reproving eyes as they hurried home with feathers draggled. Men who knew it was im- moral must make apologies as they could. It was rather the greater half of the price they paid.
And then the circus ground next day !- Sand's Circus was way to the east-maybe Sandusky way. But there was the common earth which had been Elysian fields but yester- day. The ring was marvelously smaller. The pegs were still standing in many places. The great hole where the center pole had stood was now filled with water. But from these meagre things we reconstructed in fancy the marvel of it all. We came in at the place where a maze of canvas walls had been confused as yesterday. We ran about the ring which was almost hallowed ground but yesterday. And we explored the spaces where the "dressing room," mystery of mysteries, had stood. We picked up relics of the great event. A jack knife some swain had dropped; a breast pin which some lady was regretting, and one boy won enduring fame by finding, near where the ticket wagon had been, a soaked and rumpled dollar bill.
Backward, turn backward, O time in your flight And bring back that circus, just for one night.
The city of Lima has long been distin- guished or the number of professional men who have become leading citizens, and an ex- ample is found in the late Samuel A. Baxter, who was born in Washington County, Mary- land, September 26, 1807, and was a son of Samuel A. Baxter.
The traveler today along the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Virginia and in the
Carolinas will meet Baxters in every com- munity, most frequently in the professions, and these undoubtedly came from the same old English stock, whence descended the late Sam- uel A. Baxter. In his carly youth the boy learned the trade of hatter and furrier, one which required both taste and skill, when all the work was done by hand. That he was un- usually competent was demonstrated by the fact of a position seeking him instead of his seeking the place. While purchasing a stock of goods for his employer, in an Eastern city, his thorough knowledge of the business so im- pressed a hatter and furrier of Lancaster, Ohio, who was there on the same errand, that he offered the management of his business to the competent young man. The latter accept- ed and hastened to make his arrangements. It is related that as another young man was mak- ing the same trip they arranged that one horse should carry them both, they alternately riding and walking.
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