USA > Ohio > Knox County > History of Knox County, Ohio, its past and present > Part 32
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. 18I
HISTORY OF KNOX COUNTY.
Several camps of Delawares were located within the limits of this county prior to the War of 1812. One, located on the bottom land of Owl creek, just opposite the mouth of Centre run, is remem- bered by the older citizens, who often speak of "the Indian field." Another camp was situated in the neighborhood of what is now Fredericktown; another at Greentown, now in Ashland county, then under the jurisdiction of Knox county. Some of the old pioneers have seen several times old Crane, the Wyandot chief; Armstrong, and Cap- tain Pipe, the Delaware chiefs.
Custaloga was a chief of the Delawares, of the Wolf tribe, and represented the Delawares at the council that met Colonel Boquet at the forks of the Muskingum (Coshocton) October 17, 1764. The expedition under Colonel Boquet came from Fort Pitt (now Pittsburgh), and numbered fifteen hun- dred men. One of the results of the council was the recovery of over two hundred white captives, which had been stolen from the early settlements of the whites near the Ohio river, and western part of Pennsylvania. Many of these captives had grown up from childhood with the Indians, and some had intermarried with them. When they were thus reclaimed by fathers and brothers who had long mourned their loss, and who had accom- ยท panied the expedition, many of the captives, instead of rejoicing were thrown into great unhappiness. They clung to their Indian friends and relations, crying with loud lamentations at the separation, and, in some cases, were with great difficulty torn away.
Custaloga was one of the principal speaking chiefs at the council. It is supposed his home was at one of the Indian fields so numerously found by the early white settlers along the Owl Creek valley; a principal and very large one of which was at Elm- wood, a little below or opposite to the present city of Mount Vernon, and on the right bank of the river.
In 1820 an Indian squaw of the Stockbridge tribe was shot near the county line, between Utica and Martinsburgh, in Licking county. She was taken to Mount Vernon, where she died. One McLane shot her, and was sent to the penitentiary for it. He and four others, named McDaniel, Ev- ans, Chadwick, and Hughes, were engaged in
chopping, when this squaw, and others of the tribe, came along and camped near them. The diaboli- cal proposition was made and accepted, that they should play cards, and that the loser should shoot her. McLane was the loser and did the shooting; his confederates were tried with him and acquitted. McLane died before his term in the penitentiary had expired, according to some authorities, and ac- cording to others served his time out.
The squaw was shot through the thigh, and was carried to Mount Vernon by her companions and placed in the old log gunsmith shop of John Earn- hart on High street; but the quarters becoming un- comfortable on account of the cold November weather, she was removed to a log house on the northwest corner of Mulberry and Vine streets, where she died. True to the stoicism of her race, she never groaned or complained, though her suf- ferings were intense. Her five or six Indian con- panions remained with her until her death, when they buried her in the northeast corner of the old graveyard. For several years her husband would return in November, to see that her grave remained undisturbed. Her name was Rachel Konkupote. She gave birth to a female child while lying con- fined by her wound, and on her death the child was given to John and Judah Bird, colored per- sons of Morgan or Clay township. The child was named Mary, and the legislature subsequently un- dertook to dispose of it. Hence the habeas cor- pus case, tried before Judge Brown, on the twen- tieth of November, 1820, noted by Norton, as fol- lows:
In this year (1820) an interesting case was presented in an allowance of a writ, on the twentieth of November, by Judge Brown, requiring John Bird and Judah Bird to bring into court the body of an Indian chiid, daughter of Rachel Conkapote [Konkupote], deceased, by her husband, Elisha Conkapote [Konkupote], both Indians of the Stockbridge tribe. Judges Young and Chapman also appeared, and the whole court lent itself to an impartial examination of the case, which resulted in their leaving the little Indian in the hands of the Birds, John and Judah.
The legislature subsequently allowed the Birds fifty dollars per annum for the support of the child. This legislation was procured by Hosmer Curtis, esq., in 1822, then a member of the lower house of the legislature.
Among the orders issued by the county June 6, 1820, were the following :
2
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HISTORY OF KNOX COUNTY.
No. 3,928-Paying Moody and McCarty for articles fur- nished overseers of the poor for the squaw that was shot . $2.84. 4
No. 3,929-Hormer Curtis and Mott for expenses incur- red for the sick squaw I.00. 0
No. 3,930-Jacob Martin, making coffin for squaw ... 6.00. 0
The following regarding Indian troubles in the northern part of Knox county (now Richland) is taken from the history of Richland county:
When war was declared with Great Britain, in the spring of 1812, a feeling of uneasiness ran through the border settle- ments. The Indians had always been allies of the English as against Americans; and they would have been equally allies of any other power that would have assisted them in regaining the territory that was being wrested from them by the advanc- ing pioneers.
Tecumseh, the brave and eloquent chief, was earnestly en- gaged in uniting the Indian tribes, inducing them to take up the hatchet, and, with the help of the British, drive the Americans from their country. Very few soldiers were then upon the border for the protection of the settlers; block-houses and means of defence were scarce. When the American commander,. General Hull, surrendered, this feeling of insecurity was in- creased to one of alarm. It was supposed that a British invad- ing army would immediately cross the State of Ohio, and that the Indians would be let loose upon the defenceless settlers. Block-houses were immediately erected for protection-they sprang up, like mushrooms, almost in a single night. Two were erected on the site of Mansfield; one on Rocky fork, at Beam's mill (now Goudy's mill); one on the Clear fork of the Mohican, and one where Ganges now stands. The block-houses at Mount Vernon and Fredericktown were also erected about this time. Within reach of these rude works the pioneers felt comparatively safe. A few of them could defend themselves against quite a force of savages; and, as rapidly as possible, these works were occupied by soldiers.
There had been, for some years, a camp of Indians at Green- town on Black fork-about one hundred of them. A few were Mohawks, but most of them were Delawares, under an old chief named Armstrong. They had always been friendly and neigh- borly with the whites, and quite a settlement of white people had gathered around them. Fearing that Tecumseh would in- fluence these Indians to engage in the war, and that they would suddenly fall upon the settlers and murder them, the military authorities determined to remove them. It was the policy of the government to gather all the friendly Indians together as much as possible-to separate the sheep from the goats, as it were-that it might know who were its friends and who its enemies. This was the motive for the order removing the Greentown Indians. However unjust it might seem to drive them from their homes and hunting-grounds, it was in accord- ance with a general policy that seemed to be for the best. A great many friendly Indians were gathered near the present site of Piqua, Ohio, where they were under the protection and su- pervision of the military. To this place it was decided to re- move these Indians, and the task was intrusted to Colonel Samuel Kratzer, who had arrived at Mansfield with his com- mand from Knox county. His soldiers were scattered about the vicinity, building block-houses and doing garrison duty. One company, under command of Captain Martin, was stationed at
the block-house at Beam's Mill. In September, Colonel Krat- zer sent a company of soldiers, under Captain Douglas, to bring the Greentown Indians to Mansfield. It was a delicate and dis- agreeable duty. When Douglas arrived at the village and re- ported his mission to the chief, Captain Armstrong hesitated about obeying the order. He had eighty fighting men under his command, and could have made a vigorous resistance. It seemed cruel to remove these people from their homes, where they were living quietly, attending to their own business, molest- ing no one, and surrounded by their families and the comforts of life; in a country wonderfully beautiful, which they had always called their own. What wonder is it that they hesitated to obey this peremptory order? These Indians were in a great degree under the influence of Christianity. Missionaries had visited them regularly for years, and preached in their council- house. They traded freely with the whites, and were more in- telligent and further on the road to civilization than most other tribes. The village site had been selected for the romantic beauty of its scenery ; it is said by those who visited it at that period that no more lovely spot could be found ; yet they must leave this at the bidding of destiny. It seems as if it was or- dained that this race should be ground to powder under the heel of civilization.
The Indians were thrown into a violent state of excitement upon the appearance of the soldiers for their removal. Captain Armstrong trembled with suppressed emotion; so much so that he could hardly reply to Captain Douglas. The camp was like a powder magazine-a spark would have caused an explosion- a word would have brought on a desperate struggle. Douglas, finding he would have some difficulty, concluded to go to Mr. James Copus, for his advice and assistance, desiring, if possible, to avoid bloodshed.
James Copus was the first settler in Mifflin township. He was born in Greene county, Pennsylvania, about the year 1775; mar- ried in his native county in 1796; emigrated to Richland county in March, 1809, and settled on the Black fork of the Mohican. . He first located about three miles east of the present site of Charles' mill, on what has since been called Zimmer's run, where he erected a camp cabin of poles. In this cabin he lived eigh- teen months, when he moved down nearer to Black fork, about three-fourths of a mile from that stream, where a beautiful spring gushes from the foot of a high rocky ridge or bluff. Here he built a permanent cabin on land he had selected, and began clearing off a farm. Meanwhile, he had become well known to the Greentown Indians; was on the most friendly terms with them, and was much respected by them. He was a inan of strong religious convictions-a Methodist, and frequently preached for them in their council-house. He was a stout, fear- less, industrious German, and soon had a small patch cleared about his cabin, fenced with brush and logs, and planted in corn He possessed a yoke of oxen and a cow or two. A few white neighbors soon gathered around him, among whom were James Cunningham, Andrew Craig, David and Samuel Hill and Mr. Lambright. The settlement came to be known as the Black fork or Copus settlement. The Indians soon learned to trust Mr. Copus, to believe in his honesty and fidelity, and in conse- quence, he soon acquired great influence over them. It was to this man that Captain Douglas went, to secure, if possible, his influence in getting the Indians removed without a conflict. Mr. Copus entertained some peculiar views respecting human rights; his sympathies were with the Indians, and he was strongly op- posed to their removal. He liked them as neighbors, believed
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HISTORY OF KNOX COUNTY.
they were inclined to peace, and could not see the necessity of driving them from their homes. He entered into a long conver- sation with the officer, respecting the justness of his mission. He maintained that they had suffered the most shameful wrongs, and that a God of mercy would demand restitution from the hands of the whites. He at first refused to assist the officer, declaring to him, that, if he would not disturb them, he would himself stand accountable for their conduct. All Mr. Copus' arguments were to no purpose. The officer stated simply that his orders were peremptory to remove them, and, however un- just it might be, he could not do less than obey orders. Mr. Copus saw that if he did not use his influence and persuade the Indians to go peaceably, there would be bloodshed, and, with this view, he at last agreed to accompany the officer to the In- dian villlage; first stipulating, however, that, should the Indians quietly surrender, their lives and property should be protected. This Captain Douglas promised, and taking with him his three sons, Henry, James and Wesley, they proceeded to the village. Through Mr. Copus' influence, the Indians were persuaded to go quietly away with the soldiers, after being assured that their property should be protected and restored to them, and that they should be protected on the march. Prior to this they had assured Peter Kinney, a neighbor, that, if permitted to remain, they would surrender their guns and war-like weapons, and an- swer to roll-call every day, but as Captain Douglas had no dis_ cretionary power, this could not be done.
A schedule of their property was taken by James Cunning- ham and Peter Kinney, and they took up their line of march across the Black fork, turning their faces from a home they, as a tribe, were never to see again. They were taken across to the new State road, thence to Lucas, and from there to Mansfield, camping in the deep ravine, which now crosses the First ward, above the bridge on South Main street. It is now called Ritter's
run. Some eight or ten soldiers straggled from Douglas' command, and remained behind at the Indian village. No sooner had Armstrong and his people disappeared in the forest, than these soldiers deliberately, to the surprise and distress of Mr. Copus, set fire to the village and burned it to the ground. Nearly everything the Indians left behind was consumed. The village contained some sixty comfortable log houses, a large council house, and much personal property, which the Indians were unable to carry with them.
This is the statement of Mr. Wesley Copus, who was present. He is now dead, but the statement was written down in his presence, and by his dictation, some years before he died. He attributed the untimely death of his father to this act of perfidy on the part of Douglas' command.
After being joined by a few Indians from Jeromeville, Colonel Kratzer and his cominand conducted the Indians through Berkshire and across Elm creek, in Delaware county, to Piqua.
It is said the Indians discovered volumes of smoke rising over the tree tops, surmised that their property was being burnt, and some of them vowed a terrible vengeance.
Captain Thomas Steene Armstrong, chief of the Greentown Indians, whose Indian name was Pamoxet, was born in Penn- sylvania, somewhere on the Susquehanna river. He was not a full blooded Indian, but very dark-skinned; the name Steene probably alluded to some white relative, in this country. He first came into notice at the treaty of Fort Industry, July 4, 1805. He was probably chief of the Turtle branch of the Lenni Lenape, or Delaware tribe, and located at Greentown, about the time Captain Pipe made his residence near Mohican Johns-
town. He was often visited by the Moravian missionary Hecke- welder, long before any white settlers made their appearance.
At the tine these white settlers came, Captain Armstrong . ap- peared to be about sixty-five years of age; was a small man, slightly stooping, rather dignified and reticent, dressed in full Indian costume, and appeared to advantage. He had two wives-one an old squaw, by whom he had James and Silas, and, probably, other children. He married a young squaw in 1808, by whom he had children. He frequently visited the cabin of James Copus, and made sugar there the first spring af- ter his arrival. James and Silas often shot at a mark, with bows and arrows, with James and Wesley Copus, in the sugar camp. They also amused themselves by hopping, wrestling, and other boyish sports. Armstrong had two Indian slaves, or servants, both deaf. They were of some other tribe. He was a harmless old chief, and treated every one very kindly. The favorite hunting-ground of his tribe was in Knox county, along Owl creek and its tributaries, and frequently they had difficulty with the early settlers of that region. After their removal to Piqua, Armstrong settled in the Upper Sandusky region, among the Delawares and Wyandots, and never returned to Greentown; but his boys, however, James and Silas, frequently came back. The chief was a good Indian doctor, and could talk very good English. His descendants married among the Wyandots and Delawares, and, when these tribes were removed, went with them beyond the Mississippi, settling near Wyandot, Kansas.
During the short time the Greentown Indians were encamped in Mansfield, two of them, a warrior and his daughter, a little girl, escaped from the guards and made their way toward Upper Sandusky. This Indian's name was Toby; he did not belong to the Greentown Indians, but to another tribe located at Upper Sandusky. For some reason, his little daughter had been living with the Greentown Indians, and, when he found they were be- ing removed by the Government, he came to take her home, and met her at Mansfield. Here he found her under guard, and not being able to get her away openly, he succeeded in getting her through the guards, and they started for Upper Sandusky. At that time there was, in Colonel Kratzer's command, a com- pany of soldiers from Coshocton, and, among them, two men by the name of Morrison and McCulloch; the latter had had a brother killed by the Indians at Brownstown. These two men took their rifles and started in pursuit of the fugitives, on the Sandusky trail. Two miles out, they overtook and immediately fired upon them, wounding the father. They then returned to town. The Indian ran about forty rods to a stream, and laid down in it. Morrison and McCulloch told what they had done; and a company of soldiers, under Sergeant J. C. Gilkinson, and accompanied by the two scouts, Morrison and McCulloch, went out to look for the wounded Indian, and found him still alive, lying in the stream. As they approached, he lifted his hands, imploring mercy, but there was no mercy for him. Morrison drew his tomahawk from his belt and handed it to McCulloch, saying, "Take revenge for your brother's blood." McCulloch walked deliberately up, and, in spite of the entreaties of Mr. Gil- kinson, sank the tomahawk into the Indian's skull, up to the har.dle.
They then took the body out of the water, and, having piled some logs on it, left it for the present and went home, taking along the gun, tomahawk, and other articles belonging to the Indian. Some days after, they returned, cut off the head of the Indian, scalped it, brought it to town and stuck it on a pole in the street, where it remained sever' dlays, when some one,
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HISTORY OF KNOX COUNTY.
becoming disgusted with the sight, took it down and buried it. Dr. J. P. Henderson, still living, adds to the above the follow- ing: "The scalp they filled with whisky, handed it around and drank from it, though mixed with blood."
The daughter escaped, and, after living nine days on berries, arrived safely at Sandusky. Nothing could be done to punish Morrison and McCulloch for this crime, as there was a standing order that all Indians found in the woods, outside the guards, should be shot.
About the same time the Indians were removed from Green- town, Levi Jones was killed, near Mansfield. On the thirteenth of August, 1812, John Wallace and a man by the name of Reed went out a half-mile east of town to clear off a place for a brickyard. In the afternoon, Levi Jones, who kept a grocery in the cabin on the Sturgis corner, went out where they were at work and remained with them some time. In returning, he took a different route from the one by which he went out, it be- ing a trail through the woods. When he reached the vicinity of the brick block lately known as the Friendly Inn, and near the foot of the hill on the east side of North Main street, he was fired upon by a party of Indians in ambush. It is supposed this was a party of the Greentown Indians. They probably had some grudge against Jones, who sold whisky, and had trouble with them at different times on this account. One shot took effect, the ball entering the back of the left hand, passing through the hand and entering the right breast. The hand through which the ball passed was confined at his breast by a sling, in consequence of a felon on his thumb. Jones did not fall immediately, but, giving a yell of pain and alarm, started on a run for the block-house. He might have reached it, but un- fortunately came in contact with a brush across the path, which threw him backward upon the ground. Before he could regain his feet, the Indians were upon him, and finished their work by stabbing him several times in the back. They then scalped him, and, having secured his hat and handkerchief, gave the scalp yell and left.
John Pugh and Mr. Westfall were working a few rods from the place, and hearing the yell, ran into town and gave the alarm. They returned, and found Jones lying dead in the trail, but, fearing an ambush, left him there and returned to the block-house. In a very few minutes everybody in the vi- cinity heard the news, and all immediately took shelter in the block-house. The excitement was very great; they momen- tarily expected an attack. During all this time, the supposition was that Reed and Wallace, who were clearing the brickyard in that direction, had also been killed by the Indians, and that the latter were still lurking in the neighborhood. The wives of Reed and Wallace were almost frantic, thinking their husbands had been murdered. It was now about sundown, and, as it seems there were no soldiers in the block-house at that time, it was determined to send immediately to Mount Vernon for help. Who would volunteer to go, was the question. It was a haz- ardous journey; whoever volunteered would stand a fair chance of losing his scalp. It happened that, just at that time, the ec- centric but brave Johnny Appleseed was present. He imme- diately volunteered to undertake the hazardous journey, and started about dark, bareheaded and barefooted, through the wilderness. He reached Mount Vernon in safety, and with such expedition that Captain Garey, with a party of soldiers, was at the block-house by sunrise the next morning.
On this journey Johnny Appleseed gave a warning cry at every cabin he passed, informing the inmates that Reed, Wal-
lace, and Jones were killed, and that the Indians were passing south. There was something awful, it is said, in Johnny's warning cry, as he pounded at the door of each cabin he passed, and shouted to the inmates: "Flee! flee! for your lives ! The Indians are upon you," and, before they could open the door, or fairly comprehend his meaning, this angel of mercy had disappeared in the darkness and night, on his way with the fleetness of a deer to the next cabin-
And, pressing forward like the wind, Left pallor and surprise behind.
Shortly after Johnny left, Reed and Wallace made their ap- pearance at the block-house, safe and sound, to the great joy of all.
When the soldiers arrived in the morning, the body of Jones was brought in on a sled and buried, and a search made for any savages that might be lurking about. The place where the In- dians had tied their horses was found near the foot of the hill upon which Judge Geddes now resides. The next day Captain Douglas raised a company of fifteen volunteers, and started on the trail of the Indians, following it to Upper Sandusky. They came so near the fugitives the second day, that they found their camp-fires still burning. At Upper Sandusky they found Gov- ernor McArthur with a company from Chillicothe, and semained there several days, searching the Indian camp for the mur- derers of Jones, but did not find them. Some three hundred friendly Indians were encamped there. Douglas did not think it safe to return by the way he went, and came back by way of Fredericktown. The men were roughly dressed, and had hand- kerchiefs tied about their heads instead of hats. They looked more like Indians than white men; and, as they were going into Fredericktown, they fired off their guns by way of salute, and greatly frightened the inhabitants. Two women fainted in the street, and a general stampede for the block-house took place.
The murder of Jones must have happened a few days before the removal of the Greentown Indians, as at that time soldiers were already occupying the block-houses on the square,
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